Chapter Twenty One James’s Rebellion
Chapter Twenty One: James’s Rebellion
James made his first phone call the moment he had decided to fight back; though, naturally, he did wait until his mother was well out of earshot.
He was not, by nature, a rebellious person.
He had spent his life being agreeable, accommodating and pathologically conflict-averse.
Deferring to his mother on matters large and small, from the colour of his bedroom walls (elephants’ breath, obviously, anything else would be ‘garish’) to the trajectory of his career (insurance, the family had connections).
He had learned, early and thoroughly, that the path of least resistance was also the path of least suffering.
But he had seen Anastasia’s face during the rehearsal dinner.
He had watched her smile become fixed, her eyes become distant, her whole self retreat behind a wall of polite compliance while his mother talked about ice sculptures and receiving lines and all the ways she had managed to turn their wedding into her personal production.
He had promised to fix it. And James, for all his faults, kept his promises.
The first call was to the string quartet.
‘Pemberton Quartet? Yes, hello. This is James Ashworth-Pemberton. I’m terribly sorry to call so late, but I’m afraid there’s been a change of plans regarding tomorrow’s wedding.’
A pause. Some confusion. The cellist, who was their spokesman due to his family connections explaining that they had already loaded the instruments.
‘Yes, I understand. And I’m so sorry for the inconvenience. But I’m afraid we won’t be needing you after all. Full payment, of course. Plus a bonus for the late notice. Consider it a paid holiday. Yes, really. No, I’m quite certain. Thank you so much. Goodbye.’
He hung up. His hands were shaking slightly. He had just cancelled his mother’s string quartet. The Pemberton Quartet, who had played at every major family event since 1987. The cousin was going to mention this at Christmas. For years.
James took a breath and made the next call.
???
By midnight he had contacted a DJ he’d met at Glastonbury two summers ago, a woman named Zara who went by ‘DJ Stardust’ and who had once kept a tent of three thousand people dancing until dawn.
‘Wedding tomorrow?’ Zara had said, audibly amused. ‘Bit last minute, innit?’
‘I know. I’m sorry. It’s... there’s a situation. With my mother. It’s complicated.’
‘Say no more. Mothers are always complicated.’ A pause, the sound of something being shuffled. ‘Lucky for you, my gig tomorrow fell through. Some tech bro’s birthday party, the app tanked and suddenly they couldn’t afford me. Their loss, your gain. Send me the address.’
‘You’re a lifesaver.’
‘I know. That’ll be triple my usual rate, by the way. Emergency fees.’
‘Done.’
By one in the morning, James had rearranged the seating plan, completely removed the ridiculous receiving line, ordered fireworks; big spectacular ones, the kind that would make Anastasia’s eyes light up and contacted a proper sawdust-on-the-floor butcher about supplementing the formal dinner with something more casual and cow-based.
He found a local caterer and demanded the finest BBQ ever held, pointing out that the best part of a cow was not going to cook itself. The caterer was nonplussed and half asleep, but woke up immediately when James said how much he was prepared to pay.
The caterer, stopped asking questions, ignored the ridiculous hour and got all the important details sorted out. Rich people were often eccentric. It came with the territory.
???
At two in the morning, James called me.
‘Do you know what time it is?’ My voice was thick with sleep and irritation.
‘Yes. Sorry. I need your help.’
‘Is someone dying?’
‘No. Well. Not yet. I’m... I’m doing something. Something big. And I need you to help me coordinate the ushers.’
A long pause. ‘What kind of something?’
‘I’m changing the wedding.’
‘The wedding that’s happening in approximately fourteen hours?’
‘Yes.’
‘Without telling your mother?’
‘Especially without telling my mother.’
I laughed. ‘All right. I’m in. What do you need?’
‘The hot tub. I finally got one, for the wedding, Mummy thinks it’s vulgar but I insisted.
I want to use it for a moment with Anastasia after the ceremony, I have this brilliant idea with trampolines and everything.
Only thing is, it is massive, so I need some heavy lifting and stealth to get it in place.
And you know how much I hate lobster, well I have changed supper, we are going to have a big dirty BBQ instead and if Maurice thinks he is covering anything in foie gras, he has another thing coming.
‘James, I need to tell you something.’
‘What?’
‘This is the most sensible thing you’ve ever done.’
‘Really?’
‘Having a BBQ in the winter when it is due to snow is clearly insane, but standing up for Anastasia against your mother? Taking control of your own wedding? That’s...’ ‘That’s growth, James. I’m proud of you.’
‘Don’t get sentimental on me. It’s two in the morning and I’ve still got calls to make.’
‘What else is on the list?’
‘The ice sculpture, it’s a swan. Mum ordered it without asking, I need it gone.’
‘Gone where?’
‘I was thinking the lake, it can swim with the actual swans. Poetic, don’t you think?’
‘You want to throw an ice sculpture into Capability Brown’s lake.’
‘Float it. Gently. Freddie can handle it. He’s always wanted to do something with the lake.’
‘And to replace the swan?’
‘Chocolate fountain. I saw Anastasia’s face light up at one once, at some awful corporate event.
She pretended to think it was tacky, but I saw her go back three times for strawberries.
Also, with that in place Mother will never insist on the bloody awful reception line thing, so we can get rid of that as well’
‘Your mother is going to have a stroke.’
‘My mother is going to have to accept that this is my wedding, not hers.’ James’s voice was steady now, the shaking gone.
‘I’ve spent my whole life doing what she wanted.
Going where she pointed. Being who she expected.
And I don’t regret it, mostly, because she’s my mother, I love her, she only wants what’s best for me.
But what’s best for me is Anastasia. And I’m not going to let anyone, not even Mummy, make her feel like she doesn’t belong. ’
I thought for a moment. ‘I’ll rally the troops. Freddie can handle the ice sculpture. Tariq can coordinate Rupert to do the heavy lifting. What time do you need everything in place?’
‘It needs to be a fait accompli, so it can’t be changed back. Best it is all ready before mummy wakes up, so early.’
‘Define early.’
‘Six?’
‘James, it’s two in the morning and you’re asking me to coordinate a covert operation involving a hot tub, a floating ice swan and a DJ named Stardust, all to be completed by six a.m.’
‘Is that a problem?’
‘It’s the most fun I’ve had in months. I’ll make the calls.’
???
By four in the morning, Operation Wedding Rebellion (Freddie’s name, not James’s) was fully underway.
Freddie and Rupert had retrieved the ice sculpture from the entrance hall; a delicate operation involving a furniture dolly, several blankets and Rupert’s considerable strength, and transported it to the lake, where it now floated serenely among the real swans, slowly melting into abstract art.
The hot tub was in place, with a trampoline on either side and some snuggly robes and towels on standby.
The chocolate fountain had been sourced from a catering company in Cheltenham that specialized in last-minute emergencies. ‘You’d be amazed,’ the owner had said, when James called at four a.m., ‘how many people need a chocolate fountain at four in the morning. It’s more common than you’d think.’
DJ Stardust had sent a text confirming her arrival time and asking about the power supply situation, followed by a second text asking if there was ‘any chance of a decent sound system, because posh weddings usually have shite acoustics.’ James had replied that she could have whatever she wanted, within reason and possibly some things beyond reason as well.
The fireworks company had been the easiest call. Professional pyrotechnics were available at short notice if you were willing to pay premium rates and James was willing to pay premium rates for anything that would make Anastasia smile.
‘Big ones,’ he had specified. ‘Spectacular. The kind that light up the whole sky.’
‘Sir, our grand finale package includes a twenty-minute display with synchronised music and a custom finale sequence. It’s generally used for royal occasions and major sporting events.’
‘Perfect. I’ll take it.’
???
At five-thirty in the morning, James stood on the terrace, watching the sun begin to lighten the eastern sky.
For the first time in his life, he had the absolute certainty that he was doing the right thing. His mother was going to be furious. His stepfather was going to be confused. The Pemberton Quartet was probably already composing a strongly worded letter.
But Anastasia was going to be happy. And that was all that mattered.
I appeared beside him, holding two cups of coffee.
‘It’s done,’ I said, handing one to James. ‘Ice swan is floating. Hot tub is installed. Chocolate fountain is warming up. DJ Stardust texted to say she’s bringing her own lighting rig, which I think is a good sign. And the fireworks company is setting up on the south lawn as we speak.’
‘How long until your mother wakes up?’
‘Based on historical data? About half an hour. She likes to inspect the preparations before breakfast.’
‘Then she’s going to have quite a surprise.’
‘James.’ I turned to face him, my expression serious. ‘Are you sure about this? Your mother is going to be...’
‘Furious. I know. She’s going to say I’ve ruined everything, that I’ve embarrassed the family, that Anastasia has changed me into someone she doesn’t recognise.
’ James took a sip of his coffee. ‘And maybe she’s right about that last part.
Maybe Anastasia has changed me. Maybe I needed to be changed. ’
‘Changed how?’
‘Into someone who fights for what he wants. Into someone who puts the person he loves first.’ He looked out at the grounds: the lake with its floating ice swan, the hot tub starting to steam, the south lawn where the fireworks crew was setting up their equipment.
‘I’ve never defied my mother. Not once. Not about anything that mattered.
And I think... I think that’s been my problem all along.
I’ve been so afraid of conflict, so determined to keep the peace, that I’ve never actually stood up for anything. ’
‘Until now.’
‘Until now.’ James smiled, tired but certain. ‘Anastasia matters more. She matters more than keeping the peace. More than making Mum happy. More than any of it.’ He turned to me. ‘Is that selfish?’
‘It’s not selfish to want your own wedding.’
‘Good. Because I’m terrified, absolutely terrified. But I’m also...’ He searched for the word. ‘Excited? Is that strange?’
‘It’s not strange at all.’ I raised my coffee cup. ‘To James’s Rebellion, may it be the first of many.’
James clinked his cup on mine. ‘To doing things our way.’
We stood in silence, watching the dawn break over Hartington Hall, waiting for the chaos to begin.
Somewhere in the house, Elizabeth Ashworth-Pemberton was starting to stir.
The rebellion had begun.