“I don’t know what it is with this bride, Sophie, but you seem desperate to get her to like you. You’ve never been like this with anyone else.”
“That’s because everyone else does like me!” I wail.
“Not everyone in life will like you, darling. That’s just how it is. My goodness, the number of people who don’t like me…”
“There are hundreds!” Dad’s voice calls, from another room.
“Thank you for that,” she calls back sternly, then softens her voice to talk to me again. “My point is, let that go. She doesn’t like you. So what?”
“She thinks I don’t take risks.”
“You’re very sensible, darling. You always have been.”
“Yes, but she thinks it’s abadthing,” I stress. “And—and maybe it is. Maybe they’re right.”
Mum frowns. “What do you mean? Who’s ‘they’?”
I exhale. I could explain that Daniel said something very similar and that’s why it’s bugging me, but I know she’d go off on one if Daniel came into the conversation.
“She’s mean,” I say instead. “I can’t work with her.”
“She’s not asking you to.”
I frown at the phone. “I’m confused. What are you saying?”
“I’m saying that an excellent form of revenge is success. You could quit tomorrow. Or you could get out there, take pride in your amazing work, and tick all those jobs off her list. Didn’t you say you got the photographer she wanted?”
“Yeah, I did.”
“And how did she react to that?”
I think back on when I told her about Clio Vaughn at Dashwell. “She was speechless.”
“There you are!” Mum says, so enthusiastically that her tea slops over the side of her mug. “She had nothing to say because you did what she didn’t expect.Youwon, not her.”
“It’s a good idea, Mum, but you should hear some of the stuff on her list. I mean, think of the swans…”
“That’s nonsense.” Mum dismisses it with a wave of her hand. “And you should have told her so from the start. You were trying to please her by agreeing to things that were stupid, and she was asking you to do stupid things to make you quit. You’ve got to know her a little, haven’t you? Do you really think she wants swans at her wedding?”
“No.”
“What would she want?”
I shrug. “I don’t know.”
“Well, think about it. You would for your other brides. You’ve been trying so hard to get her to like you that you’ve been forgetting about the job. Remember what I told you about doctors?” She clicks her fingers. “What happened with that bride last year, the one who wanted the lanterns?”
“Eleanor? Oh, that was nothing and it was all sorted in the end.”
“Tell me again?”
“She wanted guests to have those lanterns you let off into the sky when they left the venue, but she was also a big animal lover so I told her they pose a lot of danger to wildlife. I suggested she stick to sparklers instead.”
“And was she happy about it?”
“Yeah, course. She had no idea about those lanterns and was pleased I’d warned her. And in the end the sparklers photo was so good, they used it on the front of their thank-you cards.”
“There you have it,” Mum says excitedly, as though it’s all become clear even though I’m still very confused. “You carefully and respectfully told her what she shouldn’t do and pointed herin the right direction. When this new bride of yours said she wanted swans, why didn’t you do the same?”
