After that, the wedding had taken something of a backburner. Being engaged was nice, there wasn’t really a rush, and until a month ago, we hadn’t planned a single thing. It was only when Maddie called to say one of her clients had cancelled their wedding at Varden Hall that things got back on track. Varden Hall was a beautiful country house just outside of London and while it wasn’t the venue I’d imagined for my wedding, I had to admit it was absolutely gorgeous. Plus, it was one of the few wedding venues my dad hadn’t already used, so that was a bonus. But even with Maddie helping out, there was still so much to do and every ounce of it was exhausting. Dan and I had been working like maniacs since the day we moved and it was hard to muster up excitement for overpriced cake when you were working seven days a week, and if I couldn’t muster up excitement for cake, what chance did seating arrangements have?

  But now the date was set and the ball was rolling and the four of us were off to LA for my early hen do before flight prices went crazy. What we were doing when we got there was anyone’s guess, but I was, as ever, packed for all eventualities. As long as we weren’t attending any black-tie balls, I was fairly certain I had everything I could possibly need in my little suitcase.

  ‘Don’t let me forget to show you the sample menus,’ Maddie said, tucking her light brown hair behind her ears as she peered at the seat numbers listed above the rows. ‘I’ve got some quotes in from a few caterers that are available. Unless you don’t want to talk wedding stuff today, which I totally understand.’

  ‘There is never a bad time to talk about food,’ I said, giving my soon-to-be sister-in-law a grateful glance. She really had been an absolute lifesaver. ‘When we’re done with the wedding, maybe we could talk about you taking over planning my entire life?’

  She smiled and gave a small curtsy, pausing just long enough for Emelie to turn around and whack her in the face with her backpack.

  ‘Excusez-moi,’ Em breezed as Maddie squealed and pinched the bridge of her nose. ‘This is our row, non?’

  I watched Matthew shake his head at her as he opened the overhead locker and slung his bag in first before taking my suitcase and sliding it in with ease.

  ‘I’m in the aisle seat,’ he declared as he gallantly hoisted Maddie’s weekend bag into the locker, leaving Emelie to wrestle with her overstuffed suitcase by herself.

  ‘What if I want the aisle?’ she asked, travel pillow fastened around her neck, travel sickness bands on her wrists.

  ‘Then you’re shit out of luck. I’m eighteen feet tall, you three are miniature. I’m in the aisle. And it’s Rachel’s hen so she’s in the window seat.’

  ‘Then I’m next to Rachel!’ she replied.

  ‘Sorry, Em, but I need Maddie next to me,’ I said, steeling myself for violence as Emelie’s green eyes flashed. ‘We need to sort out this caterer stuff.’

  ‘That won’t take very long,’ Maddie said quickly. ‘We can always switch after a bit. It is a long flight after all.’

  ‘Whatever,’ Em sniffed and yanked a silk eye mask out of her pocket and yanked it over her curls like a headband. ‘I get to sit next to you in the car though.’

  ‘Maybe she’ll let you hold her hand in assembly as well,’ Matthew said, shoving us down the row and into our seats as the next group of passengers began to board. ‘Sit down, fasten your seatbelt and for the love of god, somebody get me a drink.’

  Shoving a handful of bridal magazines into the seatback pocket, I gave him a look. ‘Matthew, it’s eight o’clock in the morning.’

  ‘And, Rachel, I’ve been up since four,’ he replied. ‘So someone better find me a glass of something extremely strong before I tear this plane apart.’

  ‘All I’ve got is a bag of Haribo, but you’re welcome to them,’ Maddie offered.

  With a dramatic sigh, Emelie produced a giant bottle of vodka from her backpack and passed it to a grabby-handed Matthew. ‘Thankfully, one of your bridesmaids was prepared for this eventuality. Don’t drink it all, you’ll die.’

  ‘Hen do off to a cracking start,’ I muttered as he unscrewed the lid and took a deep swig, with Emelie and Maddie chanting at him to chug.

  Seven mystery days in California with my nearest and dearest.

  What could possibly go wrong?

  Los Angeles was blazingly hot. Sun-sizzling-the-air-until-it-burned-the-inside-of-your-nose hot, and none of us were prepared for it. We stood outside the car hire office, more than a little rough around the edges after our long-haul flight, melting into the concrete.

  ‘This sun is going to kill me,’ Emelie declared, covering her pale skin and auburn hair with an absolutely enormous hat. ‘There isn’t an SPF high enough for what is happening to my body right now.’

  ‘At least it’s a dry heat,’ Matthew replied, wrapping his hands around his eyes in lieu of the sunglasses he’d left in their case on the dining room table, next to the vase of powder-pink peonies. We knew this because he had told us all several thousand times over the course of the eleven-hour flight. ‘And you’d better get used to it Emmy-cakes, it’s not likely to be any less sunny in Palm Springs.’

  Brightening at the reveal, I beamed at my friends. ‘We’re going to Palm Springs?’

  ‘Surprise,’ he confirmed with unenthusiastic jazz hands. ‘We’re driving out to the desert and taking you to IndioFest.’

  Emelie threw back her head and stretched her arms up into the air and yelled.

  ‘Road triiiiiiip!’

  Matthew took hold of her wrists and clamped them back down by her sides. ‘That’s enough from you.’

  ‘Two things to tick off your list,’ she said, shaking him loose. ‘Tomorrow, we’re doing a cooking class so you can learn to cook, and I found a karaoke drag bar that’s open all night long so we can tick off staying out until dawn. That’s half the list done.’

  If it was possible, I’d been even more slack with my Bride-to-Be To-Do list than I had with my wedding planning. We’d made a couple of false starts; there was the weekend away for Emelie’s birthday that we had to cancel when I got booked on a job in New York, and Matthew had attempted to book us on the same massage course he’d taken but then the organizer suffered a heart attack while teaching aerial yoga and we didn’t even get a refund.

  ‘This is going to be amazing,’ I said, my heart full to bursting. ‘It’s insane that I’ve only accomplished one thing in almost a year. Who even am I?’

  ‘Dan’s dad’s dressing gown falling open at the breakfast table does not count as seeing one last penis,’ Matthew said. ‘Sorry, Maddie.’

  ‘Don’t apologize, I was there,’ she replied, turning an attractive shade of puce. ‘It completely ruined Christmas. I’ve bought him a ten pack of boxers for his birthday.’

  ‘Oh god, so have we,’ I gagged quietly at the memory. ‘Speaking of knicker drawers, I did give mine an overhaul. Anything that looked dodgy or had dubious elastic went in the bin before the move so we can tick that off.’

  ‘Not unless you replaced them with sexy alternatives,’ Em said. ‘A fresh five pack from M&S won’t cut it here. Remember when you went crazy at Agent Provocateur? That’s what we’re looking for. Lacy, strappy, crotchless—’

  ‘Enough knicker talk,’ Matthew interrupted, a distasteful look on his face. ‘Here’s the car.’

  On cue, a beautiful red convertible rolled to a stop in front of us with a pearly toothed child in the driver’s seat.

  ‘Here you go, Mr Chase,’ he said, switching off the engine and climbing out of the car. Seriously, he couldn’t have been more than sixteen. I wondered if everyone in LA looked pre-pubescent. ‘All your paperwork is in the glove compartment, you’re good to go.’

  ‘Seriously?’ Em said as Matthew attempted to load all our luggage into the tiny boot. ‘This is our car? How are we supposed to get all our stuff in that tiny boot?’

  ‘We’re road tripping to Palm Springs to attend a music festival for a hen do,’ he replied. ‘What other car could I have possibly chosen but a cherry-red Mustang?’

  ‘A car with an actual boot,’ she snipped, ducking as he attempted to clip her around the back of the head.

  ‘Do they always fight like this?’ Maddie lowered her voice as Matthew and Emelie continued to bicker back and forth over whose luggage was going to be sent on after us by horse and cart.

  ‘Constantly,’ I confirmed. ‘Don’t worry about it, this is their love language. Although there has been an uptick in physical violence lately.’

  ‘Maybe they need a holiday,’ she suggested as Emelie flicked Matthew in the crotch and he knocked her hat off her head. ‘Bit of time to unwind.’

  I watched Em attempt to wrap her arms around Matthew’s waist as she tried to pick up our much bigger friend and throw him into oncoming traffic. Given that Matthew was almost a foot taller than her, she was thankfully unsuccessful.

  ‘Yeah,’ I said, nodding. ‘That’s probably it.’

  Maddie pulled her long brown hair away from her face and fastened it in a low ponytail with a happy, resigned sigh. ‘My friends, Lauren and Sarah, are exactly the same. They’ve been mates so long they take every little annoyance out on each other. Sometimes I have to give them a reset, turn them off and on again like an old laptop. A week of sunshine, a couple of cocktails, a splash around in the pool and they’ll be so in love with each other again they won’t want to leave.’

  ‘And then they’ll fight about that,’ I said, smiling. ‘I’m sure we’ll be OK. As long as there are no major bumps in the road, they won’t have anything to argue about.’

  ‘No worries there,’ Maddie said reassuringly. ‘Everything’s been booked, scheduled and double checked. It’s all smooth sailing from here.’

  And it was.

  For exactly two hours and fourteen minutes.

  ‘I cannot believe you killed the car,’ Emelie grunted as the four of us stood next to the beautiful red convertible and its very flat tyre. ‘How did you not see that pothole? It was the size of Spain.’

  ‘It’s just a flat, I’ll change it and we’ll be back on the road in two minutes.’ Matthew planted his hands on his hips and kicked the deflated tyre with the white rubber toe of his Converse. ‘Rach, isn’t this on the list? Changing a tyre? Maybe it’s a sign from the bridesmaids gods or something.’

  ‘It’s a sign that we’re going to die out here,’ Emelie said as she heaved her suitcase out of the boot, dropped it at the side of the road and sat down, just as the biggest lorry I had ever seen in my life roared past, showering us with grit and sand.

  ‘Matthew, call the roadside assistant people.’

  He looked at her as though she’d asked him to marry Justin Bieber and have all his babies.

  ‘I most certainly will not,’ he replied, drawing himself up to his full height, right as someone whipped by in a Fiat 500 and tossed a giant Starbucks cup out their window. Even while covered in iced coffee, Matthew was indignant. ‘We’re not calling anyone. Have you got any idea how much that’ll cost? We’ve got phones, we’ve got YouTube, we’re all accomplished, intelligent adults, we can change a tyre ourselves, can’t we?’

  The three of us looked at each other.

  ‘No,’ I replied. ‘I don’t think we can.’

  ‘I can barely drive, let alone change a tyre,’ Maddie admitted, settling beside Emelie on her upturned suitcase. ‘Sorry, I vote we call the AA.’

  Matthew pressed his lips together, tensing his jaw so tightly I was worried we were going to need an emergency dentist as well as roadside assistance.

  ‘I will not admit defeat before I’ve even tried!’ he shouted. ‘You three sit your arses down and I’ll have us up and running again in no time, just watch me.’

  ‘Oh, I intend to,’ Em replied, picking bits of grit out of her curly hair.

  Squatting behind the car, I pulled the emergency Toblerone I’d bought at the airport out of my backpack and offered it around. ‘At least the scenery is nice,’ I said, holding one of the chocolate triangles up to the real-life actual mountain behind us, a dark sandy giant cut against the brightest, bluest sky. ‘How long until he lets us call for help?’

  ‘I’ve got the number here.’ Em held up her phone, then held out her hand for a piece of chocolate. ‘There’s a house with a hot tub not half an hour away and I’m being kept out of it by a fragile male ego. He gets fifteen minutes, then I’m making the call.’

  ‘Make it ten,’ Maddie suggested, pulling her cardigan over her head. ‘I haven’t got any sunscreen on and I’m starting to bake.’

  ‘I’ll split the difference and say he gives up in twelve,’ I guessed, a proud look on my face as Matthew battered the deflated tyre with a crowbar. ‘Anyway, tell me more about this hot tub …’

  CHAPTER FOUR

  The house was perfection.

  A gorgeous specimen of mid-century modern design, all sloping roof and sharp angles set off by warm colours and cosy furnishings. I loved the lushness of it, the plush green grass and towering palm trees that contrasted so starkly with the dusty desert that surrounded us. I adored the vintage features of the house, the retro tiling in the bathroom, the built-in bar in the living room and the kidney-shaped pool in the garden, and, most importantly of all, I loved that my friends had thought ahead and ordered many bottles of booze that were chilled and waiting for us on our arrival.

  ‘Do you think we should check on Matthew? He seemed a bit out of it when he went in.’

  I stared up at the sky as the vivid blue faded away into inky darkness above us while Emelie and I drifted around the pool, draped over matching inflatable swans. It was just the two of us; Maddie had succumbed to her jetlag almost the moment we walked through the door and Matthew had given up the fight after a glass of wine and three packets of Cool Ranch Doritos.

  ‘He’s fine,’ Em said, waving an unconcerned hand. ‘All that hard work changing the tyre must have worn him out.’

  ‘He gave up after eight minutes.’

  ‘Eight minutes I could have been in this pool,’ she replied. ‘I thought it was nice of the Triple A guy to let you help him so you could tick it off your list. If you call holding a wrench and refusing to actually touch the tyre helping.’

  ‘He was nice,’ I smiled, remembering our first holiday friend, Carlo the mechanic, fondly as I raised my plastic goblet into the air to toast him. It was twice the size of a regular wine glass, it had flamingos painted onto the sides and I loved it completely.

  ‘Thank you for filming it.’

  She leaned over as far as she could to tap her glass against mine. ‘Anything for my best friend. Isn’t it wild that we’re on your hen do? All those late nights at uni we spent talking about moments like these, now they’re finally here. You imagine them for so long but it’s surreal when you’re actually living them.’

  ‘Don’t,’ I said, my head lolling back. ‘I’m too jetlagged to process concepts like that. Anyway, uni me would never believe us if we went back in time and told her about all of this. Palm Springs? Our own pool? She just wouldn’t have it. I don’t think I even knew where Palm Springs was back then.’

  ‘Uni me would believe it,’ Em said with confidence. ‘I always knew you were destined for greatness, even when I was off my tits on Aftershock and peach schnapps.’

  I laughed and took a grateful sip of my very nice rosé. ‘Wish you’d filled me in, could have saved myself three years of an English degree when I ended up as a make-up artist.’

  ‘But then who would have done my make-up every night for three years?’ she asked.

  ‘That is a fair point.’

  I rested my head against my swan’s neck and smiled, pleasantly woozy from the wine, the sweet smell of jasmine and having been awake for twenty-four hours. ‘This place is heaven, isn’t it? I can’t believe Maddie’s friend is letting us stay here for free.’

  ‘I would have found somewhere if she hadn’t,’ she replied, more than a little bit defensive. ‘This place is a bit old fashioned for my taste, to be honest.’

  It absolutely wasn’t.

  Emelie loved all things vintage, and I’d seen the look on her face when we walked through the door and she spotted the cool wicker chair suspended from the ceiling. We’d already had three Instagram photoshoots and I suspected there would be many more before the week was out.

  ‘And it sucks that we don’t have our own rooms,’ she added.

  ‘You could have had your own room,’ I told her, unable to stop myself from yawning. Jetlag was slowly but surely starting to creep in. ‘I offered to share with Maddie.’

  With a completely neutral expression, Em stretched out her legs until her feet rested flat against the side of the pool, bent her knees and pushed off, zooming away from me, across the water in silence. I knocked back the rest of my wine and kicked my legs on either side of the swan, splashing myself in the face as I followed her.

  ‘Are you OK? What’s going on?’

  ‘Nothing.’

  ‘You don’t like Maddie?’

  ‘I’m sure she’s fine.’

  Ouch.

  ‘She’s more than fine,’ I replied gently. ‘She’s brilliant. Plus she’s Dan’s sister, my friend and let’s not forget, your fellow bridesmaid.’

  ‘I’ve already said, it’s nothing,’ she insisted, dipping her toes into the warm water. ‘I just don’t know her that well. I haven’t spent as much time with her as you have. I mean, I don’t even spend as much time with you as she does these days.’

  Every word that came out of her mouth was loaded and I was not in the right frame of mind to navigate that particular minefield. So, for reasons I couldn’t quite explain, I decided to dive face first into another one.

  ‘How are things with you and Paul?’ I asked. ‘He’s been awfully quiet lately and Mum says she hasn’t heard much from him either.’

  She tilted her head back, letting her hair float away behind her, Ophelia in a pink bikini.

  ‘We’ve both been really busy,’ she replied robotically. ‘Work has been mad for me, and he’s at the shop twelve hours a day, seven days a week.’

 

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