Page 52 of The Scottish Island Wedding

‘There we are. Problem solved,’ Aunt Joan said to Elizabeth.

‘Wait! Stop it!’ Elizabeth cried out, but everyone was sitting down and making themselves comfortable.

‘Dear, why don’t you just let everyone sit where they like? It’s not the House of Lords,’ Arthur said jovially. Heather watched Elizabeth’s face flush with embarrassment. In that moment, as her husband undermined her in public, she suddenly felt bad for Lady Campbell.

‘Where did you want us to sit, Elizabeth?’ Heather asked her kindly, but Elizabeth shrugged.

‘What does it matter? It’s ruined now. Sit anywhere,’ Elizabeth muttered, and went back to her seat.

Heather wondered what Matty and his mother had talked about the night before whether Elizabeth had been more human in private than she usually was in public.

‘What is a rehearsal dinner, anyway?’ Aunt Chrissie asked, next to Heather. ‘We all know how to eat by now.’

‘Maybe we’re going to learn how to eat escargots with that special fork thingy,’ Bluebell piped up.

‘Oh, right. Or an oyster masterclass.’ Primrose nodded sagely. ‘How to swallow something fishily gelatinous while looking graceful.’

Elizabeth, who was fully within hearing range, glowered at the sisters, but said nothing.

‘No… come on, everyone. I think it’s that we all need to practice our curtseys, for when the helicopters land,’ Sorrel chipped in.

‘To be the sensible one for a moment, I think it’s a chance to practise speeches,’ Blossom replied, grinning at her sisters and laying a monogrammed napkin on her lap.

Blossom sat next to Sorrel and her boyfriend Tam, who, Heather saw, held hands even though they were sitting next to each other. Heather thought how adorable they were; she was so glad that her oldest sister had a second chance at love with her childhood sweetheart.

‘If there’s a chance for a free dinner, I’m in,’ Tom said loudly; Heather watched as Blossom scowled. Tom seemed quite tipsy already, and had clearly been taking advantage of the champagne before dinner. The contrast between Blossom and Tom and Sorrel and Tam was marked; there was no softness, no affection between Blossom and her partner.

‘You’re going back to the room to look after the kids after. Remember?’ Blossom hissed, leaning in towards him. ‘Go easy on the drinks, please.’

‘Can’t you do it?’ Tom looked world-weary.

‘No! I’ve been looking after them all day. This is my sister’s wedding. I’m allowed to spend some time with her,’ Blossom replied tartly. ‘Please don’t act as if you’re so terribly burdened by our children, Tom. You’ve hardly done any childcare since we’ve been here.’

‘I’m on holiday.’ Tom shrugged, pouring himself a glass of wine and draining half of it in one go. ‘We’ve got the radio.’ He pointed to an in-room intercom which sat on the table between them. Occasionally, a red light flashed on it as one of their sleeping children, in a bedroom on the next floor, stirred.

‘We agreed that you’d go back after dinner and I could stay down,’ Blossom muttered. ‘You know that Archie has a cold.’

‘He’ll be fine,’ Tom said dismissively. ‘You worry too much.’

‘It’s all right, love,’ Catriona interrupted. ‘I’ll have my dinner quickly and then go up and keep an eye on them. You two can have a night off.’

‘Mum, you don’t have to do that.’ Blossom looked defeated. Heather could see what she was thinking: it was lovely that their mother had stepped in, but she shouldn’t have to. Tom should understand Blossom’s feelings – and more to the point, be a better parent.

‘Well, if you’ve all quite finished,’ Elizabeth said, interrupting. ‘The order of speeches is on the agenda in front of you. We can tweak anything that doesn’t work now, before the big day.’

‘What qualifies as “not working”?’ Catriona asked icily. ‘Who is the judge of that, may I ask?’

‘There’s no need to be sarcastic about it, Catriona,’ Elizabeth said, faux-cheerily. ‘It’s good to run through things to check that nobody repeats anything someone else says, that the speeches don’t go on too long, and that there’s no concerning content.’

‘Concerning content?’ Angus frowned. ‘What the hell does that mean?’

‘Swearing, inflammatory language,’ Elizabeth said, playing with her fork. ‘Excessively long monologues about the true ownership of the castle. That kind of thing.’

‘Oh, it’s like that, is it?’ Angus retorted, but Catriona put her hand on his arm.

‘Fine. Let’s get on, shall we?’ she asked, coolly.

‘I thought I’d make a speech, actually.’ Heather put her hand up. ‘In case you didn’t know, I’ll do mine after Matty does his.’