There’s a long pause as she watches me. Then she leans forward across the table, clasping her hands together. “All right then. I’ve been thinking about the band I want.”
“Great!” I say enthusiastically, pen at the ready. “Was there a specific group that you had in mind? I can check their availability.”
“Yes. Oasis.”
I look up from my notepad. “Oasis. As in, the rock band Oasis?”
“Yes.”
“The rock band with the Gallagher brothers? That Oasis?”
“Yes.”
“The famous band that split up a few years ago. And have vowed never to get back together. You want that band to play at your wedding.”
“Wouldn’t that be so cool?” She twirls the straw in her smoothie. “They’re the perfect vibe for the champagne reception, I think. Don’t you?”
“Cordelia, I—”
“Speaking of the champagne reception, the flooring in the main hall will need to be completely redone. I won’t have my guests walking in on those horrible ancient tiles. You need to talk to Daddy about that.”
“You want me to ask the Marquess of Meade to refloor thehallway of your grade-one-listed stately home?” I ask, hardly able to breathe. “That’s a joke, right?”
She looks stunned. “Why would I be joking? Oh, and then I need to talk to you about the swans. A very important job for your list.”
“The swans.”
“I’ve always dreamed of having swans lead me down the aisle.”
“You want swans at your wedding. In the church.”
“No offense, Sophie, but are you sure you’ve done this bridesmaid thing before?” she asks innocently. “You’ve been repeating everything I say, but I’ve noticed you haven’t written many notes. I don’t mean to belittle you, but isn’t it your job to do whatever I want, no questions asked?”
I clear my throat and focus back on my notepad, jotting down “re-form Oasis, redo flooring, gather swans.” She’s giving me impossible tasks so that I’ll quit.
“As I was saying, a bevy of swans must go down the aisle ahead of me. Isn’t that gorgeous? It may be tricky to train swans, but I’m sure there’s nothing you wouldn’t do for your dear friend.” She reaches over and pats my hand. “Which leads me to the tiara. It’s important to wear a very special piece of jewelry on your wedding day, I think. I’ve decided on Queen Alexandra’s Kokoshnik Tiara. You must know it, of course?”
I shake my head.
“How strange,” she says, tutting at me. “You’re a little behind in your research. It’s a very famous tiara, given to Queen Alexandra on her twenty-fifth wedding anniversary. I think it will suit me very well. Could you get that out on loan for me, please? It’s spelled K-o-k-o-s-h-n-i-k.”
“Where exactly would I be loaning that tiara from?” I ask nervously, writing it down.
“The Queen, silly!” She laughs. “Who else would have it?It’s one of her favorites. Oh, and one last thing off the top of my head, before I have to dash, what do you think of suspending peacocks from the ceiling over guests as we dine? I think we’d need a hundred or so to make an impact. And you’ll need to work out how to keep the poor darlings up in the air while we eat but so that we can see them when we look up—glass platforms or something hanging from the chandeliers? Oh, I don’t know, I’m awful at this sort of thing, but I know it’s right up your street.”
“Cordelia,” I say, lowering the pen. “You can’t be—”
“I also need you to get me ten photographers for the day. One is simply not enough. But they all need to be famous photographers, not just anyone. And I read somewhere that a bride had two thousand candles at her wedding? How sparse! I’m going to need at least four thousand. Make sure you write that down.”
She stands up, swinging her gym bag over her shoulder, smiling down at me.
“Thank yousomuch, Sophie. Oops, Emily, I mean. You really are a lifesaver. And I know I’ve only given you a few of the small things to work on for now, but don’t worry, I’ll be sending you more ideas soon.”
As she swivels to leave, her gym bag flings round and hits her still-full green smoothie glass. It knocks over and splatters all over me. I yelp, jumping up from the table, my precious notebook, phone, and clothes covered with green sludge. I quickly pick my phone off the table, desperately trying to save it with napkins.
“Whoops!” She giggles before waggling her fingers at me. “See you.”
As I wipe the rest of the smoothie off my phone, gratefully taking the fresh batch of napkins offered to me by the girl behind the bar, I watch Cordelia walk to her car through the window.
