Love is the Drug. Ashley Croft

SEVEN

      In the Tiara Kabin, Sarah fixed on a smile as her first wedding client of the year unfurled a list of demands that would rival a hip-hop diva. She just hoped her customer wouldn’t notice her puffy eyes, but luckily Cassandra Burling rarely noticed anything that didn’t stare back from her own mirror.

      ‘I’d want the pearls dyed to exactly match my shoes. I’ve brought one of them so you can see what I want,’ said Cassandra Burling, ‘and there will be six matching hair slides for the bridesmaids and two smaller ones for the flower girls.’

      ‘I’m sure I can help …’ said Sarah with a smile, while silently screaming.

      ‘And I want a Swarovski crystals dove with a pearl in his beak to symbolise our union. And I want the bridesmaids’ hair clips all done to match but not as nice as mine, obvs. Then there’s the necklaces for my mum and his mum, not that the evil cow deserves anything but we can’t leave her out or she’ll probably cut us out of her will …’

      Finally Cassandra drew breath. She picked at the plastic on the edge of the coffee table with a Barbie-pink nail.

      ‘You can do that by the end of the month, can’t you?’ she added, flicking a piece of plastic onto the floor of the workshop.

      Sarah swallowed down a gasp of dismay. ‘The end of this month? As in the end of January?’

      ‘Yeah. Why?’

      ‘I thought you told me your wedding was in May?’

      ‘Oh, it was but we’ve got a cancellation at a theme park. It’s on Valentine’s Day and there’s a cable telly contest for Valentine’s Day brides. I want to have the ceremony on the Termination ride at Adrenalin Park. We’ll be upside down while the celebrant marries us but I still want to look ahm-azing. If you win, the telly company give you all your money back for the wedding and honeymoon.’ Cassandra folded her arms. ‘No one will be able to beat that idea.’

      Sarah wanted to vom at the very thought of being upside down. ‘No. I doubt if they will, but won’t the headdresses fall off on the ride?’

      ‘Oh, you’ll come up with something and if I win, your tiaras and stuff will be all over Brekkie.’

      ‘Wow,’ said Sarah.

      ‘Anyway, we’ve brought everything forward and I need the headdresses for a trial run at the salon at the end of January. You can do it, can’t you?’ Cassandra’s voice took on a vaguely menacing tone.

      ‘Well, there’s a lot of work, especially if I have to adapt them to being worn upside down, at high speed with all that G force.’

      ‘Well, I’d have thought you’d have been gagging for the work, and maybe offering me a discount if I’m going to advertise your work on Brekkie … but if you don’t need the business, I could try someone else.’

      ‘Yes, I do. Of course, I want the business and of course, I’ll do it.’ Sarah forced a smile to her face. She needed the business more than ever now that Niall had moved out. ‘Don’t worry, everything will be ready for your big day,’ she said soothingly.

      ‘Good, because I want it all to be totally one hundred and ten per cent perfect.’

      ‘Of course, it’s once in a lifetime.’

      Cassandra examined her nail. ‘Well, yeah, I suppose so. If it lasts. But that’s marriage, innit – a lottery?’ she added cheerfully.

      Cassandra didn’t sound the slightest bit bothered by the prospect of her relationship not lasting and Sarah couldn’t say she was shocked or even surprised. Cassandra wasn’t the first bride she’d had who looked on the wedding mainly as an excuse to have a party and be a princess for the day. And after all, wasn’t that what she was selling? Be a princess. Wear a tiara. Pretend you’re Kate or Meghan or Princess Aurora? Sarah was in the fairy-tale business after all, but she’d liked to think she had a slightly less cynical approach than some of the suppliers – a more personal touch, a genuine sincerity that most customers recognised even if they didn’t all appreciate it.

      ‘The headdresses will all be ready,’ she said, hardening her heart and opening her appointments book. ‘Shall we say you come round for a fitting four weeks from today?’

      ‘Fab.’ Cassandra studied the Kabin, sighing wistfully. ‘What a cute little hut this is. It reminds me of a fairy grotto. I wish I could give up my job and play around with crystals and beads.’

      Sarah restrained herself only by a great effort of will. ‘So do I.’

      Digging her Swarovski-encrusted pearlescent pink iPhone out of her Mulberry bag, Cassandra left the Kabin with a tiny finger wave.

      After she’d left, Sarah made herself a ginger tea and sat down. She couldn’t really criticise Cassandra. Who was the deluded one? Cassandra who was determined to make a statement on this one day – and stuff the lifetime afterwards, which was optional anyway? Or Molly who was, despite her protests, patently in love with her ambitious, frigid boss.

      Or Sarah herself? Deluding herself that she and Niall were different. Special.

      Until now Sarah had been happy that she’d given up a decent job with a bank to pursue the creative hobby she loved. She’d spent enough time helping other people get their businesses up and running in the decade or so that she’d worked at the bank. Although she didn’t begrudge a nanosecond of the time she’d devoted to making sure Molly had a good start in life, she’d been so excited at finally being able to do something for herself that was a bit risky, a bit crazy and a lot wonderful.

      So what if some people at the bank had thought and told her she was selling brides a cheesy, sparkly pipe dream? She was doing what she loved best, while trying to make a future for herself and her baby.

      Closing her appointments book, she took a few deep breaths and told herself to snap out of her gloom and get on with her work. Cassandra was her only appointment for the day, although she had several workshops to prepare for later in the week.

      In fact, she ought to get started on Cassandra’s commission right now, but she simply couldn’t face it. It was far more tempting to curl up in bed and bawl her eyes out again – although even that would mean sleeping in the bed where Niall had been shagging Vanessa.

      She locked the garden gate as Cassandra roared off in her BMW and a lump formed in her throat. The early morning drizzle had cleared and the sky was now an unblemished blue. Birds cawed from the cottage chimney, the sun gave the creamy stone a mellow hue and the whole place looked impossibly cute and picturesque. She and Niall had worked their butts off to afford it. She swallowed down her tears as she heard the “beep beep” of the bin lorry reversing up the lane. It wouldn’t do to blub in front of the bin men and anyway, she would never have Niall back again, even if he begged her on his knees in front of the bin men.

      She hurried back to the workshop. Anger had replaced the initial shock of finding Niall in bed with Vanessa, combined with worries about what their split meant for her future and that of the baby. She needed to make her business work more than ever if she was going to be a single mum.

      Another wave of nausea washed over her but she took a few deep breaths. She had to think of the baby now though it was hard to imagine a life beyond the cottage and the Tiara Kabin. She remembered the days they’d toiled on it in rain, hail and shine the previous autumn. It had a space where she could run her small workshops and entertain clients, with a tiny kitchenette for preparing drinks and snacks. Niall had got a mate to plumb in the sink and Sarah’s electrician cousin had wired it up to the mains. It was hardly the Grand Arcade but she loved it and the investment had finally been starting to pay off.

      Closing the door behind her, she took some long, slow breaths. If she had to move out of the cottage, she’d have to find somewhere with room for the Kabin. But where and how could she possibly afford another place near Cambridge with