TRISHA ASHLEY
Wedding Tiers
Copyright
This novel is entirely a work of fiction.
The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are the work of the authors imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental.
AVON
A division of HarperCollinsPublishers 1 London Bridge, London SE1 9GF www.harpercollins.co.uk
Copyright © Trisha Ashley 2009
Trisha Ashley asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work
A catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library
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Ebook Edition © 2009 ISBN: 9780007329052
Version: 2018-04-23
Jean Ashley, 1927-2009, who took joy in my success
Table of Contents
Copyright
Prologue: Ends and Beginnings, 1983
Chapter One-Cakes and Ale
Chapter Two-Sweet Music
Chapter Three-Blessings
Chapter Four-Love, Actually
Chapter Five-All Apple Pie
Chapter Six-Hippie Chic
Chapter Seven-Gathering In
Chapter Eight-Snap Happy
Chapter Nine-Pisa Cake
Chapter Ten-Slightly Adulterated
Chapter Eleven-Over and Out
Chapter Twelve-Stitched Up
Chapter Thirteen-Altered Image
Chapter Fourteen-White Wedding
Chapter Fifteen-Undone
Chapter Sixteen-Peapodded
Chapter Seventeen-Off-Piste
Chapter Eighteen-Mixed Pickles
Chapter Nineteen-Driven
Chapter Twenty-Faithful Friends
Chapter Twenty-one-Visiting Rights
Chapter Twenty-two-Unwanted Presence
Chapter Twenty-three-The Family Way
Chapter Twenty-four-Handsome Cavaliers
Chapter Twenty-five-Chicken
Chapter Twenty-six-Subtleties
Chapter Twenty-seven-Spring Fever
Chapter Twenty-eight-Three Tiers for the Bride
Chapter Twenty-nine-Good Reception
Chapter Thirty-Tried and Tested
Chapter Thirty-one-May Day
Chapter Thirty-two-Raspberries
Chapter Thirty-three-Family Matters
Chapter Thirty-four-Gestures
Chapter Thirty-five-Wedding Belles
Chapter Thirty-six-Fruits and Leaves
Acknowledgements
About the Author
Exclusive extract of Good Husband Material
Also by Trisha Ashley
About the Publisher
Prologue: Ends and Beginnings, 1983
When Josie awoke in hospital, unscathed except for concussion and an impressive array of bruises, she had no recollection of the crash. Granny, red-eyed but stoical, had to break the news to her.
Somehow she managed to blank out most of the weeks immediately following the accident too, so that when she looked back later it seemed to her that one day she was living in St Albans with a full set of parents and several good friends, leavened with the usual teenage-years angst and a heartfelt, if destined to be forever unrequited, passion for Sting, and the next she was being whisked off alone to Grannys cottage in Lancashire, to start a new life.
Its just thee and me now, flower, Granny was all too often to remark, though with the best of intentions. But it wasnt likely that Josie would forget that fact, even if amnesia and anger were her current first lines of defence. For she was totally and illogically furious, both with her parents for so selfishly getting themselves killed, and with poor, grieving, gentle Granny for being truly ancient, so that Josie was convinced that she would also soon be snatched away, leaving her totally bereft.
It would be better to love no one, to feel nothing at allmuch safer.
All that summer, she silently and sullenly followed Granny around the garden while she hoed, dug, planted and harvested, or helped Uncle Harry (who lived next door and was not a real uncle, only having married Grannys cousin) to tend the poultry. And slowly Josie began to gain some comfort from the cycle of cultivation, the clucking hens and the drowsy, contented humming of bees; while across the Green, the ancient church bells repeatedly rang a joyful wedding peal, a signal that hope and happiness still existed and might one day be hers again.
Only in the evenings, lying in her narrow bed among the transplanted possessions of her former life, the mournful screams of the peacocks next door in the gardens of Blessings would pierce right to her heart with unbearable sadness, and she would put a pillow over her head and weep.
She didnt take the bus to her new school on the first day. Instead, Uncle Harry drove her there in the yellow Vauxhall Cavalier that was his pride and joy. And then, embarrassingly, he and Granny both stood at the gates like the oldest parents in the world while Josie went on alone. She turned once, and they waved at her, as she had known they would: it was comforting but deeply uncool.
Catching sight of her, a passing youthtall and broad-shouldered, with floppy, light brown hairstopped dead and gave her a big, drop-dead-gorgeous smile. Suddenly breathless, she gazed into his warm hazel eyes, and it was as though she already knew shed found a kindred spirit, a soul materecognised that fate, having taken love away with one sweep of the dice, had then, fickle, tossed her a perfect six.
Hello! he said, his voice deep, friendly and confident. Im Benjamin Richardsbut you can call me Benor anything else you like.
Flustered, she stammered shyly: Im Josie. Josie Gray.
Nice to meet you, Josie Gray. He smiled again before rejoining his waiting friends, who were all nudging each other and laughing.
She was jerked out of her trance by a voice at her elbow saying, Youve been here five minutes and dishy Ben Richards spoke to you? Wow!
A small, slender, impishly pretty blonde girl was looking her up and down from under her fringe as if she wasnt quite sure what the attraction had been. You must be the orphanonly we were told not to mention that.
You just did, snapped out Josie, who had become used to people tiptoeing around her as though she were some kind of delicately balanced explosive device.
The girl shrugged. Well, you cant go pussyfooting around things for ever, can you? Im Libby Martin, and if it makes you feel any better, my mothers an alcoholic slut and I have no idea who my father was.
Strangely, it did make Josie feel better, and she grinned. Then the bell went and everyone started to stream towards the door.
Come onMiss Price told me I had to show you where to go and Ive got to look after you all week, Libby said. God, Im so glad you dont look naffapart from that terrible haircut. If were going to be friends, youll have to do something about it.
Granny cut it and I think it looks cool, Josie said defensively, then added, Are we going to be friends?
Oh, I think so, dont you? Probably end up BF.
BF?
Best friends. Her blue eyes went wide. Where on earth are you from?
St Albans.
Huh. Libby looked unimpressedclearly shed never heard of the place. Ill tell you about my big plan at break, if you like.
Big plan? Josie echoed.
Well, I dont want to be Libby Martin with the slutty mother from up the council estate for ever, do I? So Im reinventing myself.
Great idea, Josie conceded, suddenly dying to know what her new friend was going to reinvent herself as, and how she intended to do it. What she began, but then the bell rang for the second time and Libby grabbed her arm and started towing her along. Practically everyone else had already vanished indoors, including the gorgeous Ben Richards.
No time nowIll tell you later, so get a move on or well be late. Though come to think of it, I suppose thats OK today, Libby added, again with an impish smile. Youre my get out of jail free card.
At lunchtime Libby outlined her plan, which seemed to be directed at leaving Neatslake as soon as possible and marrying a rich man.
Isnt that a bit Josie searched for the right word, mercenary?. Out for what you can get? What about love?
But I wouldnt marry a man unless I loved him, Libby said, looking shocked. No way would I do that! But Im only going to let myself fall in love with someone well off, who will look after me.
Right, Josie said doubtfully, because this kind of ambition had never cropped up when shed been discussing future careers with her friends in St Albans.
But first, I have to get ready to live that kind of lifeyou know, like in Pride and Prejudice, when they keep going on about all the accomplishments you need to be the wife of a rich man?
Well, yes, but I think they meant speaking Italian and doing embroidery, that kind of thing, didnt they?
Yes, but translate that into the twentieth century, Libby said impatiently. She dug a notebook out of her bag and flipped it open. Ive got a list of things I need to learn, like speaking without a broad accent. Mrs Springer, the English teacher, is helping me with that.
I like your accent, Josie said.
Youre mad! Libby said, then moved her finger down the page and continued, Horse riding, tennis, skiing Here she paused, uncertainly. Rich people do a lot of skiing, but that could be difficult round here. We dont get a lot of snow and the nearest dry ski slope is miles away.
Are you sure you need all of those?
Some of them, anywayas many as possible. You can help me.
OK, but Im not mad about horsestheyre so big.
Dont chicken out on me before we start, Libby said. What about you, what do you want?
I dont know, really. My parents thought I ought to She suddenly trailed off, her voice trembling.
Look, dont go all wobbly on me! warned Libby, and to her surprise Josie saw that her new friend had tears in her large blue eyes. If you start crying, then I will too, and then everyone will know Im as soft as butter and Ill be done for. Im only cool to know because they think Im hard as nails.
Josie sniffed back the tears. Sorry. Mymy parents wanted me to go to university, but I dont knowNow I just feel Id like to stay in Neatslake for ever and help Granny with the gardening and Uncle Harry with the hens. Grannys teaching me how to bake and make jam and stuff too.
You cant make a career out of any of that.
Yes I could. I could be a gardener, and I think Id like that. She caught sight of Ben Richards in the distance, in the middle of a group of boys. He was taller than the rest so he was easy to spot.
Libby saw where she was looking. Bens fourteen, in the next year up from us, and hes very popular. His parents wanted to send him to some public school but he decided hed rather come here with his friends and hes very stubborn. Hes brilliant at arthes done his O level alreadybut hes totally thick about everything else.