“Nah, going for something a little less emotional and gushing.” She grins, turning back to Leo. “If anyone’s going to cry tomorrow, it will be the groom.”
Leo’s face brightens as he spots someone at the entrance to the marquee. “Speak of the devil!”
Matthew shuffles in, dodging out of the way of the catering staff as they carry things in, and almost knocking into the florist, who is going through the fixings and weight loadings of the hanging flowers with the owner of the marquee company.
“S-sorry,” he says, looking flustered as he stumbles away from them and clumsily knocks into a couple of milk churns. They clang as one wobbles into another.
“There you are,” I say, laughing as he quickly steadies the churns. “Those are for the flower arrangements that will be just outside the entrance to the marquee. We’re going to have two there and then some at the top of the path by the gate. What do you think?”
“Uh, fine,” he says, distracted.
“Before I forget, I know your dad was worried about the boutonniere, but tell him not to worry, I’ve triple-checked with the florist and she’s confirmed that he definitely has one waiting for him.”
“Can we… talk?” Matthew says, his brow furrowed.
“Hey, you’re sweating. Are you okay?” I ask, suddenly alarmed. “Oh no. You’re not coming down with something, are you?”
“You want me to get some paracetamol?” Ruby offers, overhearing as she approaches.
“Hey, Matthew!” Leo grins, giving him an enthusiastic slap on the back. “How are you feeling, mate? The place looks great, you two have smashed it.”
“Yeah, because Matthew had so much to do with it,” I comment playfully.
It’s been a running joke between us that Matthew’s involvement with the wedding started and ended with him proposing. Every time I’ve tried to get his opinion on anything, he’s brushed it off, insisting he’s happy with whatever I want.
“Freya, I really need to speak with you,” he says to me in a serious tone.
“What is it?” I ask, as Leo and Ruby share a concerned look.“Are you still worried about insulting your uncle by sitting him on table nine? Because I really don’t think he’ll—”
“It’s not that.”
“Well, what then?”
His eyes dart frantically around the marquee, and he anxiously runs a hand through his hair, making it stick up all over the place. As he does so, we’re asked to move aside so staff can carry in the crates of glasses to go behind the bar.
“Look, can we go somewhere private?” Matthew snaps, shooting glares at the staff as they pass. “It’s so busy in here.”
I frown at him. “Um, sure. Leo and Ruby, are you okay to hang here for a bit and then we’ll do that drink?”
“Of course. We’ll make sure everything’s under control here, you don’t worry about a thing,” Ruby assures me. “See you in a bit.”
I follow Matthew as he storms out of the marquee and marches toward the house. The back door to the garden is propped open and we head in. In the kitchen we pass Dad and Adrian, who are having a hushed conversation. Adrian straightens and plasters a smile on his face as he sees me.
“You’ve found those pesky peacocks, yes?” I prompt, raising my eyebrows, as Matthew continues out of the kitchen and through to the hall.
“Absolutely, sis!” Adrian calls out after me. “Everything is under control.”
“I don’t believe you!” I singsong back over my shoulder.
“Love you, too!” he replies.
I shake my head, unable to stop a small smile as we stop by the stairs. My brother may be an idiot, but he’s a lovable one.
“I know the whole peacock thing is a bit crazy,” I say, as Matthew leans on the banister. “But I’m sure that Adrian will… Oh hey, Aunty Em!”
“There’s the beautiful bride-to-be!” my aunt trills from thetop of the staircase. “And the handsome groom! You all set for tomorrow?”
“Everything’s looking great! You need anything?”
