Page 7 of Storm of Bells
‘…white lilies, of course! Both for thedecorations and bouquets. I mean, how could that not be obvious?Hernameis Lilly.’
‘I know what her name is, thank you verymuch. I’ve only been best friends with her since she’s been sohigh! And I tell you, white flowers are completely ridiculous. Weneed something red! Something fiery! Something to reflect hercharacter and the fact that, as everyone knows, red is muchprettier than white.’
‘I beg your pardon? I always wear white!’
‘Exactly.’
I grinned.When I’d told Mr Ambrose I would let my relatives and friends dobattle over who would be in charge of the wedding planning and pickwhoever was left standing, I hadn’t been joking. My friend Eve hadjumped on the chance, spurred on by the fact that no one else amongour friends would ever be mad enough to let her anywhere near theirwedding planning. Before I knew what was happening, she wasbrowsing exotic locations anywhere between Jamaica andJohannesburg, designing dresses that looked like a salad had eatenitself and regurgitated itself up again, and composing a weddingmarch for the event in five-seventh time.[5]
But then something happened. Somethingneither I, nor my aunt, nor Eve would ever have expected: Ella. Mysweet, little, demure, sister Ella, who normally couldn’t be madeto argue with someone if you threatened her with an iron axe, hadmarched up to Eve and told her: ‘No! You are not allowed to ruin mysister’s wedding! I won’t let you!’
Eve had blinked.
And blinked again.
‘Ruin? I don’t intend to ruin anything! I’llmake it the most wonderful day of her life!’
Ella snatched the drawing Eve was working onout from under her fingers. ‘With this? What is this even supposedto be? The wedding cake?’
‘The groom’s attire,’ Eve admitted, lipspursing.
‘He’ll be wearing much whipped cream, willhe?’
‘That’s not supposed to be whipped cream!That’s—oh, give that here! You’re hopeless!’
‘Me?’ Ella drew herself up to her full heightof five foot three inches. ‘You’re the one who’s hopeless! And sowill Lilly’s wedding be, if someone doesn’t start to take thisseriously! So from now on,Iwill be taking over all weddingplanning matters.’
‘You? Ha! In your dreams!’
‘Want to bet?’
It had been a most interesting scene,particularly since I was the one who could lean back and just enjoythe circus. I couldn’t wait to see who would win the secondround—particularly once a certain pair of ladies from northernEngland arrived…
Smiling, I tiptoed past the room containingthe wrestling wedding furies and made my way into the dining room,where Leadfield had already prepared our usual sumptuous dinner ofcold porridge and potatoes.
‘Good evening, Leadfield.’
‘Good evening, Miss Lillian.’ Bowing sodeeply his back creaked, the aged butler teetered on the spot for amoment, then managed to right himself. ‘May I be so bold as toexpress my congratulations on your forthcoming nuptials?’
I gave the old fellow a smile, which he ofcourse didn’t return. He was a butler, after all. But his earswiggled in a very friendly manner.
‘You may.’
‘Most gracious, Miss.’ He glanced down thecorridor, from where ever-louder voices were issuing, followed by acrash, and what sounded like the tear of fabric. Ah. Anotherwedding dress design down the drain. ‘Ehem…I would not usuallysuggest this, Miss, but would you like me to serve your dinner now,before the rest of the family and your guests arrive? I have afeeling it will yet be some time until the others arrive.’
‘You are most astute, as usual, Leadfield.Yes, by all means, serve. We wouldn’t want the cold porridge tobecome warm again from the heat of the argument, now would we? Thatwould totally ruin the familiar taste and texture.’
‘Quite so, Miss Lillian.’
Limpingover to the closest chair, he pulled it out for me. I settled downand filled my plate, knowing that if I waited for Leadfield to doit, Tantalus would get to eat before I did.[6]
Footsteps approached down the corridor and,just as I looked up, my dear aunt entered the dining room, herusual cheerful expression of dyspeptic distaste on her face. Themoment she saw me, she froze in place, and her face began totwitch.
I quickly lifted my napkin to cover mysmile.
‘Good evening, Aunt. So lovely to seeyou.’
A vein in her temple pulsed. Her bony jawworked. Finally, against massive resistance, she pried her teethapart and rasped: ‘Yes. It is very…very…’
