The beauty salon is not far from Alex’s shop, and it also happens to be opposite a pub, so we have a late lunch there. Afterwards, we wander around town a bit more, then decide to head back to the Old Vicarage.
As I open the front door, a wonderful smell floats towards us – a mixture of cinnamon and thyme. It’s not long before we’re sitting at the table eating again. I’m still full from lunch, but Alex has gone to a lot of trouble cooking and I eat as much of the roast dinner and crumble as I can. My round tummy has been protruding very noticeably for a couple of months now, so it’s not as if I was trying to keep slim for my wedding day.
After dinner, Alex gets his overnight bag ready and slings his suit, in a protective cover, over his shoulder. He has made arrangements to stay at his best man’s house.
‘You won’t change your mind?’ I ask hopefully.
‘A groom shouldn’t see his bride on the big day before she walks down the aisle – or, in our case, into the register office,’ he says. ‘It’s bad luck.’
I know he’s not superstitious, any more than I am, but I expect he’ll go out for a few drinks with his mates and enjoy his last few hours of bachelorhood.
‘As long as you don’t have too much fun, then,’ I say, pretending to pout.
He gives me a tender kiss and now I wish more than ever that he’d sleep next to me tonight. I tell myself that at least this way I’ll get some time alone with my family and my best friend. I haven’t seen them for about two months, and I’ve missed them.
As soon as he has gone, Julie and Hannah appear from the living room and usher me upstairs to my bedroom.
‘Right, let’s get to work,’ Hannah says, picking up books from my bedside table and checking under them.
The missing necklace has been crouching in the back of my mind all day, and I’m thankful that Julie and Hannah haven’t forgotten about it either.
We’ve been searching upstairs for a while when Daniel offers to help. He rallies together Oscar and Archie, who were starting to bicker over a board game, but a full hour later we give up. Upstairs, we’ve checked under the beds, in all the cupboards, drawers and bathroom cabinets. Hannah went as far as to search inside my shoes and in my coat pockets in the wardrobe. And downstairs, Daniel and the boys have looked under the sofas, in the built-in cupboards and on the bookcases. Daniel says he has even checked in the laundry basket, washing machine and tumble dryer.
We’ve looked everywhere. And at least twice in most places.
Well, nearly everywhere.
‘So, do you want to open that box?’ Julie asks.
We found a cardboard box in the wardrobe of the bedroom with the peach walls, where my sister and brother-in-law are sleeping. I know Julie wants to open it, not because she thinks the necklace might be in there, but out of simple curiosity about what actually is inside.
‘No. I can’t imagine where the necklace has got to, but it can’t possibly have got into the box,’ I say. ‘It’s all taped up.’
‘I wonder what’s in there,’ Hannah muses.
‘Maybe stuff belonging to Alex’s daughters,’ I say.
‘You’d think that would be stored in their room,’ Julie says.
My nephews are sleeping in Poppy and Violet’s bedroom. Alex wasn’t happy about it, but the other guestrooms were going to be taken by Hannah, Dad, and Julie and Daniel. So that only left Alex’s daughters’ room.
‘It’s not as if it’s used,’ I’d pointed out, regretting it instantly as Alex’s face clouded over.
For a second I thought he might get angry, although he has never raised his voice at me, but in the end, he said, ‘You’re right.’ And that was that.
Julie goes in there now. The boys are aged twelve and ten, but she still tucks them in. When she has finished, she joins Hannah and me in my bedroom.
‘It’s a creepy bedroom,’ she comments, thumbing over her shoulder towards the door.
‘Oh, yeah, those fairies flying around all over the walls would give anyone nightmares,’ Hannah quips.
‘What do you mean?’ I ask Julie, although I realise I’m not at all surprised at her observation.
‘Well, for a start, the bookcase has sharp angles and it’s shooting poison arrows directly at the bed on the right, which is aligned with the door.’
‘Why is that bad?’
‘It’s like lying in a coffin when you’re about to be carried out feet first.’
I shudder, even as I think how ridiculous that all sounds.
‘Then the headboards are partially blocking both windows,’ Julie continues. ‘That creates negative energy. And you sleep badly with your head under a window, anyway. There’s an awful lot of clutter in there, which doesn’t help. Far too much Sha Chi altogether.’
Until now, I’ve always been flippant about my sister’s firm belief in feng shui. To me, it seems out of character for her as she’s usually so sensible and rational. I want to ask her how to remove the negative energy, but Hannah changes the subject.
‘So, what are we going to do about the necklace? Have you got another one?’
‘The only other one I have was a present from Kevin. I can’t possibly wear that.’ I bite my lip, pushing away the feeling of guilt that accompanies every thought I have of my ex-boyfriend.
‘The one with the letters “K” and “K” entwined?’ Julie raises her eyebrows. ‘No, you certainly cannot.’ She strides out of the room without explanation and I wonder if I’ve upset her. I look at Hannah, who shrugs.
‘Here you are. Wear this,’ Julie says, appearing seconds later, holding out a gold chain with a diamond pendant. ‘It was Mum’s.’
Tears spring to my eyes. ‘Are you sure it’s OK?’
‘Of course I’m sure, Kaitlyn. I brought it here in case you wanted to wear it for your wedding day. I didn’t know Alex had given you a heart for the occasion.’ She pauses, clearly replaying her sentence in her head. Hannah snorts. ‘You know what I mean,’ Julie says.
She puts the chain around my neck and does up the clasp. ‘There. Now you won’t lose this one.’
‘Thank you,’ I say.
A few minutes later, when Dad, Julie and Daniel have all gone to bed, Hannah and I are both in our pyjamas and Hannah is waltzing around my bedroom trying to talk round the toothbrush in her mouth.
‘I can’t make out a word you’re saying.’ I start to giggle.
She goes into my en suite bathroom. I hear her gargle, and then she materialises in the doorway, her eyebrows raised in mock surprise.
‘Who do all those bottles belong to?’ she says.
‘What are you talking about?’ I ask, my tired brain conjuring up images of wine bottles, even though I haven’t drunk any alcohol for months.
‘All those cosmetics. We had to drag you kicking and screaming into the beauty parlour earlier,’ she jokes. ‘And I know you’re not that obsessed about your appearance.’
What she’s really referring to, I imagine, is that I wear minimal make-up and don’t do enough with my hair for her liking. She has told me several times that people pay a lot of money to dye their hair the same colour as mine, whereas I’ve inherited this shade naturally from my mum’s Irish genes, but I just scrape my hair back into