Better Off Wed, page 8
As if it wasn’t bad enough that Teddy wasn’t able to make it today, leaving me to get a lift with my mum and dad, the only break I’ve had from my mum telling my dad stories about people they know that he has absolutely no interest in (unless he can think of a joke to crack, of course) was when we stopped at a service station and briefly lost my mum. We can certainly see the funny side of it now that we’re safely back in the car and almost at our destination but at the time it was genuinely horrifying. The three of us separated, my mum and dad to go to the toilets while I ordered us some drinks, but when it came time to meet up – outside the WHSmith, where the random selection of junk from garden ornaments to intense-looking cuddly toys are on sale – Mum never showed up. Dad and I chatted while we waited, eventually realising she had been longer than expected, so we called her.
‘Where are you?’ she asked me.
‘Outside WHSmith,’ I replied. ‘Where are you?’
‘I’m outside WHSmith,’ she insisted.
I paused and looked around but there was no sign of her.
‘We’re at the Burger King side,’ I told her, hoping she would come to us.
‘I can see Burger King and you’re not there,’ she replied. ‘Come on, stop playing your dad’s silly games and let’s get back on the road.’
‘Okay, listen, walk over to the Starbucks by the door, we’ll meet you there,’ I said.
I stayed on the line with her, thinking it would be for the best while we found each other again.
‘Right, I’m by Starbucks,’ she eventually said.
‘So are we,’ I replied in disbelief.
It was like in a science fiction movie, where someone is transported to an alternate universe – well, how else would you explain Mum standing in the exact same spots as me and Dad, but being nowhere to be seen? It turns out she had wandered over the bridge that crosses the motorway, to the service station on the other side, which has all the same shops as the side we started at. Eventually, we were able to find her and get back on the road, and thankfully I think we’re almost there, but it’s been one hell of a journey.
‘I think it’s so lovely that you and Dougie are both so keen to get married in Granddad’s barn,’ Mum says. I can’t see her face but I can hear her smile.
‘Of course,’ I reply. ‘It’s tradition.’
Weddings at the Porthian Sands Resort take place in a gorgeous wooden barn that sits just outside the hotel, on a terrace that looks out over the beach below. We say it’s Granddad’s barn – of course, it isn’t actually his, but he did play a big part in the planning and building of it. He actually proposed to my grandma just before he started working on it, and apparently he would always say he was building it for her, so that they could get married in it. She would always tell us how she dreamed of looking out to sea while she said her vows, almost as though she was looking out to her future and all the places they would go together. So Gran and Granddad got married there, my great-auntie and uncle did too, and in later years my parents and my cousins tied the knot there. It felt like our place.
It’s only in recent years that it has become this boujee wedding venue, resulting in the barn being super in demand (which is why Eden is so keen to tie the knot there), but ever since we were kids, Dougie and I have always just known that if and when we had our own weddings, we would follow in the family footsteps. Well, why else would we agree to a double wedding, if it weren’t so important? Plus, every couple in our family who have tied the knot there have been together forever – or to this date, at least, although if you ever flag that to my mum, she jokily tells my dad not to count his chickens just yet.
‘It’s funny how things work out sometimes, isn’t it?’ Mum says. ‘They do say Porthian Sands is the place you go to find true love. It must be something in the Cornish air.’
‘I suspect it’s more likely something that’s in the Cornish cider,’ Dad jokes.
‘Cynic,’ she ticks him off. ‘I’m not saying I believe it, it’s just urban legend, isn’t it?’
‘A marketing ploy,’ Dad adds.
‘Maybe it is,’ Mum continues. ‘But I like the idea that it’s a place for lovers, a place where something just tells you that you’ve found the person you’re going to spend the rest of your life with. And it can’t be a coincidence that Liv’s boyfriend proposed to her when he did, meaning you called the hotel when you did, and we found out that they weren’t going to be hosting weddings any more, but that there was just one slot left… it’s meant to be.’
‘I can’t argue with that,’ I reply with a smile.
Sometimes I believe in fate, in signs, in those inexplicable messages from the universe, and I love the idea that in Porthian Sands this magical energy is supposedly so much more powerful. But I do also try to be quite a realistic person, and the idea that a tidal wave might wash over my wedding ceremony if Teddy isn’t the right one for me, or that Eden will be carried off by a flock of seagulls (oh, imagine!) if Dougie and her aren’t meant to be – come on.
I’ve seen Porthian House many times on my various trips to Cornwall, but I have never set foot inside until just now.
A stunning white contemporary beachfront mansion sits at the top of a long driveway, just up from the hotel. It looks more like it belongs abroad, in the Med somewhere, with its flat roof and gleaming white walls – well, what you can see of the walls, because a larger proportion of the building is glass. It has all these huge anthracite-grey framed windows, most of them floor to ceiling – in fact, I think many of them are doors, not just windows. The upstairs floors boast multiple balconies coming off the bedrooms, with clear glass fences so that you can enjoy the view, from all angles, uninterrupted.
Approaching it from the side, you can see that it doesn’t just face out on to the beach, it’s sitting on it, with a patio and a bit of a garden leading right out on to it, like its own personal patch of beach for guests to enjoy.
‘You wouldn’t get much change out of five mil for this place,’ Dad announces.
‘Careful, Vic, I’ll be getting ideas,’ Mum says.
‘Ideas?’ he replies.
‘Yes, ideas about selling up and finding somewhere on the beach to live,’ she replies. ‘I may have been born in Oxford, but this is where my family is from, I feel a deep connection with the place. Gosh, I’d love nothing more than to live on the coast. Here would be perfect.’
‘Yes, the five-million-pound beach house would probably be perfect for most of us,’ I tease. ‘Are we the last ones here?’
I notice multiple cars parked on the driveway.
‘Not exactly,’ Dad replies as he takes cases from the boot. ‘That will be Teddy, eventually, unless he stands you up.’
‘Oh, do behave, Victor,’ Mum ticks him off. She turns to me. ‘I should’ve bloody stood him up.’
‘Ah, but then you wouldn’t have me,’ I reply.
‘There is that,’ she replies with a smile. ‘And I suppose I could always divorce him.’
‘She’s joking,’ Dad tells me. Then his face falls playfully. ‘I’m pretty sure she’s joking.’
We take our cases and walk up the pathway to the house. All of the pathways and flower beds have the same little white walls running alongside them, tying them to the house, making the place appear even bigger, even more spectacular than it is.
‘It’s been recently renovated apparently,’ Dad tells us as we approach the front door. ‘Remodelled, actually. I’m interested to see if they’ve done a good job.’
A large black front door sits between two floor-to-ceiling windows. Dad presses the smart doorbell. Eventually we’re greeted by Eden and Dougie.
‘Oh, my gosh, hello, come in,’ Eden insists.
She welcomes us warmly, but it very much feels as though this is her house, there’s just something about the way she lets us in, gesturing where we should put our bags down so we can all hug.
‘Bloody hell,’ Dad practically cackles. ‘Look at this place. Whew.’
Dad admires the glass atrium in the centre of the entrance, following it up through the floor above us, peering up until he can see the sky.
‘Isn’t it gorgeous?’ Eden coos. ‘So, this is the open-plan living space.’
It’s an enormous room. Light and bright with floor-to-ceiling windows everywhere, apart from the side that faces the beach where bifold doors are open, taking the inside space outside.
In the heart of the living area, there is a large, inviting-looking sofa with soft beige cushions – it must seat at least twenty people, and so does the long dining table. This certainly is a party house, although, with all the fancy artwork and sculptures (not to mention all the glass), I can totally understand why they don’t want stag or hen parties here.
Beyond the lounge area, which looks out over the beach, there’s an almost entirely white kitchen. It’s so minimal – which doesn’t check out for a place like this – so I can only imagine all the bells and whistles are thoughtfully hidden away. I can’t wait to see what it does have.
‘Let’s show you to your rooms first, shall we?’ Eden suggests.
‘Let’s,’ Mum says excitedly.
‘Hey, this is a bit of all right, isn’t it?’ Dad says as he pats Dougie on the back.
‘It’s unreal,’ he replies. ‘Liv, where’s Teddy?’
‘He’s going to be late,’ I reply. ‘Maybe a day.’
‘Oh,’ he replies. ‘Well, I’ll say it again when I see him, but thank him again for this place, won’t you?’
‘Of course,’ I reply.
What feels weird about all of this – well, weirder beyond the expected amount when you’re moving into a beachfront mansion with your family ahead of the double wedding you’re having, that you’ve only partially planned over the last two weeks, of course – is being here alone. I know this isn’t how it is, but I feel like I’ve just turned up to my wedding without my groom. I know, I know, he hasn’t stood me up, but this feels stood-up adjacent, perhaps. I was so excited but now, turning up here without Teddy, it’s just taken the shine off, knocked the wind out of my sails a little. But he’ll be here soon and then perhaps it will start feeling real. Right now, I don’t feel excited, I just feel anxious.
We climb the stunning curved wooden staircase that wraps around the atrium until we’re on the first floor.
‘This is your bedroom,’ Dougie tells my parents.
‘Check it out then meet us out on the patio,’ Eden instructs them. ‘My parents are already out there. We’ll show Liv her room and then we can all have a chat. I’ll show you the pool, the cinema and the games room later.’
‘The pool, the cinema and the games room,’ Dad repeats back to her. ‘Oh, my!’
That joke gets about as much laughter as it deserves, but I can’t blame him for being excited about the house. Houses are very much his thing and this is one hell of an example of how to get it right.
‘See you down there,’ Mum says. ‘Unless I get distracted by a big bath with a view.’
Mum and Dad wander into their room and soon enough, yes, I hear Mum squeak, confirming her suspicions about the bath of her dreams.
‘Okay, so, this is the master bedroom,’ Eden says.
I follow her into a large room with white walls, a gigantic bed with perfect white sheets, and not only is there a massive free-standing bath in front of the floor-to-ceiling windows but there’s a telescope for looking out over the view, out to sea, up at the stars – my god, it’s just amazing.
‘Wow,’ I blurt. ‘This is just… wow.’
‘There’s a gorgeous en suite and one of the windows is actually a door that leads out onto the balcony,’ she tells me. ‘And if you follow it along there’s a little gate that leads to a sun terrace on top of the pool room.’
‘This is just amazing,’ I blurt. ‘And this… this is my room?’
‘Ah, well, here’s the thing,’ she starts.
I should have known this was too good to be true.
‘Obviously there’s only one master suite, and two couples, so we thought the fairest thing to do would be to share it,’ Eden announces.
‘I take it you don’t mean the four of us sleeping in that bed,’ I half joke, because as daft as it sounds, I can’t quite find the faith required to truly rule it out.
‘Obviously not,’ she says with a roll of her eyes. Eden never gets my jokes, so I’m not sure why I’m expecting a half-joke to land.
‘We thought we could have a week each,’ Dougie chimes in.
‘And we thought we could go first, because we got here first, but with Teddy not being here yet, that’s perfect,’ Eden adds. ‘We’ll take it this week, you and Teddy can have it next week.’
‘Right, okay,’ I reply. It’s hard not to be a little disappointed but, if we’re taking it in turns to sleep in the master suite, I would obviously much prefer to sleep in it when Teddy is here to enjoy it too.
‘So, where is my room?’ I ask.
‘Back downstairs,’ Eden announces excitedly.
Back downstairs, if you don’t head for the living space, you can walk down a small corridor with three doors off it.
‘This one is a cupboard,’ Eden tells me. ‘This one is your bathroom.’
I notice my bathroom door is outside my bedroom, so no en suite for me.
‘And this is your bedroom,’ she announces.
It should have occurred to me, considering the geography of the house, that this room is the only one so far that doesn’t look out over the beach, it faces the driveway, with the road to the hotel just beyond it.
‘Oh,’ I blurt flatly.
‘I know, it doesn’t exactly have the grandeur of the room upstairs,’ Eden says. ‘But that’s why we thought the fairest thing to do would be to swap halfway through.’
It’s not that there’s anything wrong with this room. It’s not exactly small, the walls are white, the bed looks nice, and it does have floor-to-ceiling windows but… I don’t know. It’s nothing special, not like the one upstairs. Even something as simple as not having a sea view – and living in Oxford, then London, a sea view is not exactly something I’m accustomed to – feels like I’m really missing out on something.
‘I’ll go get started on some drinks,’ Dougie says. ‘So long as it’s all right?’
‘Yeah, it’s fine,’ I reply. ‘I’ll just look forward to swapping.’
‘So glad you’re cool with it,’ Eden says. ‘Come on, let’s go outside and see my parents, we’re just talking wedding plans and obviously I need the input of my co-bride.’
Before I get the chance to open my mouth, a very loud rumbling, almost rattling sound fills the room. It sounds like it’s coming from the next room, like someone is taking a chainsaw to the furniture.
‘What’s that?’ I ask, raising my voice a little, just to make sure Eden can hear me.
‘Oh, there’s a bit of a noisy flush in your bathroom,’ she tells me. ‘I guess, because it’s down here, it’s used as a sort of downstairs WC too, but don’t worry if you want a long shower or anything, people can always go use one of the ones upstairs.’
‘Great,’ I reply, trying not to sound too disappointed but, my god, this is far from ideal.
I perk up a little when we head out onto the patio where Dougie and both sets of parents are waiting, all sitting on comfortable-looking outdoor furniture.
Looking out to sea, you can see for miles. I love the way the sea just starts where the sand stops and then fades away to absolutely nothing, just the flat line of the horizon. It makes me want to get in a boat and chase it, although I know that’s not how it works, I’d just end up in France if I didn’t die somewhere along the way.
The table is laid out with various drinks and snacks. The parasol above is lightly blowing in the breeze. Honestly, this patio is heaven. I wish Teddy were here but it’s so nice that even being here alone far from sucks.
‘Right, sit down,’ Eden demands. ‘This wedding isn’t going to plan itself and we have less than two weeks to go. It’s so crazy that we think we can do this.’
‘If anyone can do it, you can,’ Dougie tells her. ‘This is your thing.’
‘Yeah, plus, with your and Teddy’s money, I’m pretty sure we could get Michael Bublé here to serenade us, if we wanted to,’ she replies. She thinks for a moment. ‘Nah, that’s probably tacky, isn’t it?’
I am so glad she walked that one back on her own.
Eden places two scrapbooks on the table in front of her. One is blue, the other is white, but both are stuffed to the brim.
‘Wedding planning scrapbooks,’ she says with a self-satisfied sigh.
‘Which one is yours and which one is Liv’s?’ Dad asks.
‘Oh, they’re both mine,’ she quickly corrects him.
‘I’m amazed you’ve found the time to do two,’ I tell her. ‘These last couple of weeks all I’ve done is google things and then forget everything I saw, only to need to google it all again later.’
‘I haven’t done them over the last fortnight,’ she points out with a scoff. ‘I’ve been working on these since I was teenager. One for a summer wedding, one for winter. I thought it helpful to bring both, just so you can really get a sense of what I go for.’
Eden lays the summer wedding scrapbook in the centre of the table and starts turning pages while everyone looks on in (whether it’s good or bad) amazement.
‘So, for the colour palette, for a July wedding at the beach, I’m thinking peach, blush and gold,’ she says.
‘Pink?’ I reply.
‘Summer pink,’ she corrects me. ‘May-blossom pink is over, we’re moving into more summery shades.’
I pause for a second. Oh, my god, she’s doing a colour palette to match her Instagram feed again.
