‘I don’t know… it’s just that… everything feels a bit chaotic.’
‘Are you talking about the chaos of the wedding or the chaos of your heart?’
Rosie laughed. ‘Both.’
‘Well…’ Grace smiled at her. ‘The chaos of the wedding is all manageable. And everything is going to be fine. But as for the chaos of your heart…’ She paused.
‘Go on.’
‘Well, in my experience chaos is like a wave you have to ride. You go with it. I mean, have you ever met an unhappy surfer?’
‘I actually don’t know many. The waves in Sandycove are not like those in Kilrush.’
Grace rolled her eyes. ‘Pedantry is the destroyer of all whimsical musings. But basically it is chaos where the joy is, chaos is where the fun is. You’re just going to have to embrace it. Go and have fun. See where chaos takes you.’
‘I don’t think I’ll ever embrace it.’
‘But first it’s taking us to the flower arch to make sure it’s still standing. And that the altar looks perfect.’ Grace checked the time. ‘Right, it’s 9.30a.m., we have less than five hours before the wedding. Let’s get cracking.’
As they walked down to the marquee, Grace talked excitedly about all the plans for the next weddings and how to make them bigger and better and all the new events and activities that she thought they should introduce as part of their wedding package.
‘I’m thinking honey gathering and perhaps a disco class, so everyone can learn a group dance, cocktail making, that kind of thing. Nessa had a good idea, she was saying we could buy bikes for our guests to use. Electric ones. That hill to the village is a killer.’
The marquee had been relaid with more tables and chairs and there were even more flowers and the caterers and florists were all hard at work.
‘Do you think they are all going to be too hot in the tent?’ asked Rosie.
‘We’ll open the tent flaps, have it overlooking the sea,’ said Grace, totally in charge. ‘And then for the ceremony, I think we bring iced water, with fresh mint. Your dad is picking some herbs for me now, and he said about putting fresh strawberries into the water as well. And we should provide a canopy. Could we ask someone to create something out of a parachute fabric?’ She looked at her watch. ‘Call Martin. He’s the only man for the job.’ She gave Rosie a funny look. ‘I like Martin,’ she said. ‘He’s a catch. Good-looking, practical, dealt with Laurence really well. Kind. Loves his mother. Saw him taking a thorn out of the paw of a kitten the other day…’
Rosie laughed. ‘Stop it, okay?’ She phoned Martin, worried that he might be a little strange with her after last night.
‘Morning, Rosie! How’s the form?’
Good old Martin, she was relieved he wasn’t going to make it remotely awkward. ‘We’re worried that there is no shelter over the seating area outside the marquee, where we have the altar…’
‘And you need a canopy of some sort?’ He paused, as though thinking it through. ‘And I take it, it’s a rush job?’
‘By 2p.m.?’
He laughed. ‘Leave it with me.’
She ended the call to face Grace.
‘Now, he’s a good man,’ said Grace. ‘Honestly, if only I could be soflaithiúlachwith men. Good men shouldn’t be discarded so easily. I hope you don’t regret it, that’s all.’
‘Rosie! Rosie!’ The twins were running along the grass, dressed in matching shorts, T-shirts and Velcro sandals. ‘Can we go for another swim?’
‘We’ve got our togs on under our clothes,’ said Isabelle. ‘So we can be in the sea quicker than quick!’
The grass was a little sloped as it neared the cliff edge and the twins picked up speed, their tiny feet scurrying below them, shrieking, and then, to stop themselves from going completely over the edge, launched onto Rosie. They picked themselves up, admiring the set-up.
‘It’s like a church,’ breathed Isabelle, impressed.
‘It’s nicer than a church because it’s got no roof,’ said Killian.
‘And it has sweets.’ Isabelle picked up a pink net of sugared almonds. ‘Could we have one? They have lots and lots.’
‘I think they have some leftovers,’ said Grace. ‘You two can share one.’
