Later, when Lizzie and Alexandra were alone in the room that had been Jack’s bedroom and was now the dressmaking room, Alexandra sighed.
‘I know you got a bit frustrated with your mother and her plans for your wedding,’ Alexandra said to Lizzie while her friend measured her from armpit to floor. ‘But a few plans would come in handy. There’s so much to do, so many decisions to make.’
Lizzie noted down the measurement and then hugged her friend. ‘I’m so sorry. It must be hard for you, not having a mother at a time like this.’
Alexandra cleared her throat. ‘I always assume that I manage perfectly well without parents, but maybe they do have their uses! But while I haven’t got a mother and father, I do have lots of people who love me and look after me.’
‘David adores you. He’s the best kind of father, I think,’ said Lizzie. ‘He doesn’t boss you about but he’ll always help you out of a scrape and doesn’t shout.’
‘I don’t know what would have happened to me without David,’ said Alexandra, thinking of the time when she lived with him in London. ‘He’s agreed to walk me down the aisle.’
‘And I think Stéphie will make an excellent mother substitute,’ said Lizzie. ‘She’s bossy, knows what’s best for you and loves you very much.’
‘And Penelope and Jack! Penelope only had a really short honeymoon because of my wedding.’
‘She’s a little scary but determined that everything will be perfect. She still needs convincing that Meg’s food will be good enough and that’s just for the dinner the night before!’
Alexandra smiled. ‘I know! That’s partly because the caterers are friends of hers. Pam and Elizabeth. Both English and both very good cooks. Although I don’t know what Penelope will say when she finds out that Meggy and David are making a croquembouche!’
‘Although I know Meg and David would have done a wonderful job with the food, I’m glad you’ve got caterers. Then David and Meg can join in the party properly.’
‘That’s what I thought,’ said Alexandra. ‘And if the croquembouche collapses, so be it!’
Lizzie laughed. ‘Can I measure you across the shoulders? You can be relaxed about your croquembouche if you like, but we want your dress to look as if it really has been made by Givenchy.’
‘And as if I really am Audrey Hepburn!’
Several days later, everyone agreed that Lizzie had, in David’s words, ‘played a blinder’. Alexandra, in her simple column wedding dress, sleeveless with a stand-up collar, looked more beautiful than Audrey Hepburn. Her hair was arranged (by Donna, who’d come down from Paris with Bob and who was by far the best at it) into a chignon. A long veil held in place by a tiara (lent by Antoine’s godmother) floated down her back.
But the buckle had fallen off Alexandra’s shoe and Lizzie was sewing it on again. Inside the church Pachebel’s canon in D could be heard playing (Henri and a friend had practised and practised and were now playing beautifully).
David was striding about, as anxious as any father about to walk his daughter down the aisle. Maxime was there too, impossibly handsome in his wedding clothes.
‘It doesn’t seem very long ago when we were arranging your wedding,’ said Meg to Lizzie, making conversation, possibly seeing that Alexandra was getting nervous. ‘And now we’re organising a wedding in Provence.’
‘Your turn next, Meg,’ said Vanessa.
‘I’m not planning on getting married,’ said Meg. ‘At least not for years. I’m going to have a career.’
‘Good for you, Meggy,’ said David. ‘I feel as if I’m about to go on as Hamlet at Stratford.’
‘Courage, mon brave!’ said Maxime, and clapped him on the shoulder. Alexandra happened to be looking and saw the look that was exchanged between the two men. Ah! she thought. Of course! Maxime is David’s special friend. How lovely! She smiled broadly at them and David made a face, unable to hide his happiness.
‘There, that’s done,’ said Lizzie, who had missed all this.
‘Thank goodness,’ said David. ‘Now put your shoe on, Cinderella, and I’ll escort you to your Prince Charming.’
‘But Papa is only a comte, not a prince,’ objected Stéphie.
‘I know, darling,’ said Alexandra, kissing her cheek. ‘But sometimes you have to lower your standards a little. And I do love him!’
Epilogue
Antoine and Alexandra stood on the steps of the chateau, holding hands. They were looking at the party still going on in the orangery, which had spilt out on to the lawn. They had left it a couple of hours ago to much cheering and bouquet-throwing (Meg had caught it and had swiftly thrown it back).
‘It was a wonderful wedding,’ said Alexandra. ‘Everyone I love was there. And a few people I didn’t know I was really quite fond of. My Swiss relations, for example.’
‘Yes! They really took their hair off – what?’
