Chapter 20
I awake to a crisp chill whistling through the room.
For a moment, I’m convinced I’m on my honeymoon and it’s a fresh ocean breeze billowing through white linen curtains.
A warm arm is lying heavy across my chest. A leg is pinning my body to the bed.
I imagine my husband lying like a handsome Greek god next to me.
He has whisked me away to a tropical island (definitely not Tokyo) to make up for working so much during our married life together and for not telling me that our quickie Vegas wedding has upset his entire family and now they all despise me.
I flutter my eyelids open. The first thing I notice is a mountain of wiry jet-black hair extensions.
Tash is snuggled into me. I lift my head to see that Liberty is sprawled across my legs, spooning me.
To her left, Liam is spreadeagled, nose in the air, mouth slightly open as he breathes deeply.
He has Louis lying flat-out on his chest and Peaches curled up under his arm.
Clementine is snuggled under his other arm.
She also has one hand on Louis as though in a group hug and they are all fast asleep.
I blink as a willowy figure looms into view. Cherry is standing at the foot of the bed with a finger to her lips. ‘Don’t move or you’ll wake them,’ she mouths. She looks so sad.
‘Leave the girls here if you want to go find Dom,’ I whisper.
She chews her lip, taking a moment to consider it.
‘What if he doesn’t want to speak to me?
I wouldn’t blame him. I’ve been awful to him.
I guess it’s not his fault he misses every family event.
But we wouldn’t be able to afford our new house if he didn’t work all the hours.
I’d rather go back to work myself and downsize than carry on like this. ’
‘Then go and tell him. It’s better to be honest with each other.’ Which is a bit rich considering the situation between Matteo and me.
She sniffs, smoothing her hair from her face, nodding. ‘Okay. Thank you.’
As she slides stealthily from the room, I flop my head back against the pillow wondering what size bed this is that it can accommodate all of us at once.
My mind wanders to last night and the sleepover.
It was messy on all counts. The rogue sighting of Eddie and Matteo disappearing into the chapel arm in arm with Birdie sparked a drinking frenzy of mammoth proportions for Tash and Liberty.
While they got stuck in pondering the various explanations for such clandestine actions, Liberty refused to listen to my sage advice to ring Eddie and find out directly from the horse’s mouth.
After all, it could have been completely innocent.
They may have been trading insider financial information, checking the cameras for who broke the priceless vase, or simply indulging in a spot of covert team building.
It made complete sense to me but not to Tash, who was convinced that perhaps Birdie was after a threesome with both Eddie and Matteo.
And that Liberty, no matter what the reason, should play it cool and let him come to her.
I had to let them get on with it because if the sprinkler going off wasn’t bad enough (thank God the butler was nearby to switch it off), Clementine threw up her prune juice all over the plush, hand-embroidered cream rug (yes, it looks eye-wateringly expensive if not irreplaceable), drenching Peaches and Louis in the process.
Amid lots of shrieking, the two children and Louis were quickly scooped up and dunked in a foam bubble bath.
Happy days if that had been the end of it, but the prune juice worked its way through their little digestive systems at an alarming speed.
Let’s just say we had to refill the bath twelve times.
Their heavily stained clothes were left to steep in the sink. The once pristine bathroom now resembles a Victorian wash house with baby clothes and blue-stained towels draped over every surface.
I cast my gaze around the room. The doors to the Juliet balcony have been flung wide, both to combat the horrific stench of the rather voluminous mix of human and canine defecation, and to dry out the furnishings after the sprinkler incident.
However, the upside of it all was that the wedding rings turned up in the bath, floating in a poo.
Cherry, Liam and I stood staring for a substantial length of time, unsure how exactly to retrieve the precious rings from the…
deposit. Fortunately, there wasn’t much time for finger-pointing as to who might have been responsible.
The water was draining quickly but we seemed frozen to the spot.
‘Get a bag,’ wailed Liam. ‘Before it disappears.’
‘No time! Use your hand,’ bellowed Cherry.
‘It’s your child’s faeces. Can’t you do it?’ pleaded Liam.
‘That’s not a human poo.’
As we dithered, Clementine picked the rings out, washed them in the remaining tub water as it drained away down the plug and calmly handed them to Liam.
I scan the bomb site that is our luxury suite.
It looks like we’ve been ransacked by the FBI.
Lord knows what Matteo will make of it when he arrives.
I sent a text very late on to say I wouldn’t make it to his new bedroom, and he replied instantly to say he’d be happy to come and help if needed.
I take a deep calming breath in, my heart swelling at the thought of him.
He has been extremely accepting of me and my friends and the chaos we seem to bring to his life.
A smile tugs at my lips. At least I know he wasn’t being ruthlessly pursued by Birdie last night, and that her romantic attentions might have been diverted elsewhere.
Poor Liberty. She may have a difficult day ahead.
There’s a gentle tap on the door. I dare not move for fear of waking them all up.
There’s not one person who isn’t clamping me to the bed by one or more of their limbs while Cherry is busy elsewhere trying to save her marriage.
I keep my eye trained on the door as it slides silently open.
Matteo pokes his head round. I can see instantly that he’s not had much sleep either.
The shock on his face as he surveys the mess causes me to giggle, especially when he sees me lying wide-eyed beneath a pile of slumbering people unable to move.
He holds my gaze, causing my heart to do a flip.
When he rubs a hand over his forehead, his shoulders begin shaking with mirth.
I can see he’s thinking that this is pretty standard stuff.
He knows that he has his work cut out where my friends and I are concerned.
He takes a step inside the room and sniffs the air before shaking his head in bewilderment.
I flick my eyes accusingly to Louis and the children.
Just then I feel a tug on my hand. Clementine has woken, blinking herself awake. ‘Mummy?’
‘She’ll be back soon,’ I whisper. ‘She’s gone to see your daddy.’
Clementine yawns. It takes up her entire face. ‘Okay. Let’s sing,’ she says bossily. ‘I’ll do the lead.’ She stretches her arms wide, her little finger pointing at me as she sits up. ‘You can do the harmony.’
What?
‘No,’ I hiss. ‘We’ll wake everyone up.’ I can’t even put a finger to my lips to shush her because my arm is trapped under the quilt. ‘Besides,’ I whisper firmly. ‘We sang “Pink Pony Club” fourteen times last night.’
To be honest it could have been more. My vocal cords are in shreds. Once they’d recovered from the prune juice ordeal the children had a second wind that almost outlasted Tash and Liberty. Clementine, very like her mother, is a stickler for getting the words and choreography spot on.
On hearing Clementine’s voice, Louis stirs, and along with him, as though instinctively, Peaches’ and Liam’s eyes shoot open. Liam sits bolt upright.
‘Oh my God. I’m getting married today!’
Tash prises open an eye. ‘Don’t panic. We’ve still got four crates left.’
I frown at her, puzzled.
‘Sorry,’ she says, yawning. ‘I had a terrible nightmare that we’d run out of Lovington.’
Liberty stirs. She has make-up smudged down her gloomy face.
When she emerges from the white duvet cover, it’s not a pretty sight.
It’s like a Dollz version of the Turin Shroud.
I can see Matteo is already thinking about how to ask the staff in French to put the bedding on a hot boil wash.
And the heap of towels. And the sofa cushions.
When he catches sight of the rug, his eyebrows rise as high as they’ll go.
His gaze lands on the two wedding rings nestled safely in their red presentation box on the side cabinet.
Relief spreads across his face. At least that’s one problem solved.
We won’t need to go hunting for gold bands.
‘Fuck,’ groans Liberty. ‘My head. What was in that Wet Pussy?’
Tash tuts loudly. ‘Don’t blame me. It was you ringing for room service all bloody night.’
Sweet Jesus. That’s right. They had the poor butler coming and going until four in the morning with an endless list of cocktail demands.
It was a real low point when the poor fella asked how to do a Four Fingered Delight and was given explicit instructions.
Luckily, an alternative had to be found because they had run out of blue curacao.
Apparently, Ged and the boys’ Last Hurrah was giving ours a run for its money.
‘Matteo, did you by any chance have a “threesome” with Birdie and Eddie last night?’ Liberty groans, mouthing the word ‘threesome’.
Matteo frowns, pretending to scour his memory banks. ‘Not that I recall.’
‘Were Eddie and Birdie searching for clues as to who hid the broken the vase?’ I ask.
‘No.’
Phew.
‘What were they doing together so late at night in the chapel then?’ I reluctantly ask. I’ve almost reached my limits with all the secrecy and sneaking about.