The Little Lady Agency by Hester Browne

Author:Hester Browne
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Tags: Romance
ISBN: 1416527265
Publisher: Pocket
Published: 2005-01-01T07:00:00+00:00

15

The gravel parking circle outside the house was full of cars, which didn’t bode well. I took three long deep breaths, vowed I wouldn’t let them get to me, then rang the bell.

Emery came to the door. She was looking even more wraith-like than usual, with huge dark circles round her eyes and the sort of shattered expression one only tends to see on recently released hostages.

‘Oh my God, Em,’ I exclaimed. ‘What’s happened?’

‘Daddy.’ She drew in a shuddering breath. ‘Daddy has ruined my wedding.’

‘Already?’ I said, taking her by the shoulders. ‘Now, buck up, Emery. Has he really? Or have you just fallen out about the guest list again? You know, most people only have a hundred or so people at their wedding. It’s not compulsory to invite everyone Daddy’s ever met. You don’t have to write off all Mummy’s social debts, you know.’

Emery shook her head. ‘No, it’s just . . .’ She waved her hand hopelessly. ‘Just . . . You know.’ Her head dropped and she let out a small sob. ‘William says . . .’

It would have been nice if Golf-Boy William were showing any sign of participation in his own wedding, other than actually instigating it, but so far he was claiming that work and client management (i.e. golf and squash) had him booked right up, leaving Emery in sole charge of their nuptials. I could see I wasn’t going to get any sense out of her, and with dread building in my heart, I pushed her spindly frame ahead of me, through into the kitchen.

My mother, father and grandmother were sitting around the table, which was piled high with brochures, paperwork, coffee cups, an overflowing ashtray, shredded tissues, and a smashed plate. The atmosphere was thick with cigarette smoke and bad temper.

‘Melissa! Darling!’ gasped Mummy, stubbing out her cigarette and lighting another. ‘I’m so glad you’re here!’

I ignored this, since what she really meant was ‘I’m so glad you’re here to deflect some of Daddy’s wrath.’

‘Hello, Melissa,’ said my father. His eyes glinted dangerously and I had the abrupt, paralysing sensation that he knew everything. Not that this was anything new or even necessarily significant: he’d been able to make me feel guilt on demand since I was old enough to sneak biscuits.

‘Melissa!’ said my grandmother, rising from her seat as if to leave. ‘Thank God you’re here to talk sense into everyone.’

‘Sit down, Dilys!’ snapped Daddy. ‘You’re not going anywhere.’

Granny compromised by getting up but going only as far as the drinks cabinet, where she poured herself a large gin and tonic. My mother’s eyes followed her movements longingly, but she tore her gaze away and puffed hard on her cigarette.

‘I wish you would give up, darling,’ said Granny, vaguely. ‘I did. It gives one terrible lines . . .’

‘What’s happened?’ I asked.

‘That bloody Gwen Morrison . . .’ my mother began, then paused dramatically, ‘has resigned.’

Daddy had finally caved in under serious pressure and Gwen Morrison had been engaged as Emery’s

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