A Groom With a View by Sophie Ranald

you so much.”
    You could have knocked me down with a bird’s-eye chilli. I said it was a pleasure, and we had a quite civilised chat about Liberian cuisine (wall-to-wall cassava and plantain, apparently, and something called ‘beef internal soup’, which Erica actually shuddered when she mentioned). She said she’d got into the habit of buying lethally hot sauce and eating it with pretty much everything.
    I resolved there and then to make more of an effort not only to make Erica feel welcome, but actually to get to know her, and even, if such a thing were possible, to learn to like her again.
    That night, as we curled up on the sofabed and I writhed around trying to get myself in the only position in which the spring didn’t dig into my back, I said to Nick, “You know, I think your Mum might be warming to me, just a tiny bit.”
    Nick looked up from his iPad and said, “Have a look at this. There’s someone on the Inspired Bride forum who’s having a winter wedding, and she’s posted loads of cool ideas. What do you think about painting pinecones white and using them in with the flowers and stuff?”
    I said, “Mmm, very pretty,” trying to imagine a world in which I might have the time and inclination to spray gloss enamel on to the reproductive organs of conifers. I put my head on his chest and he squeezed me close.
    “Where’s Spanx?” I said sleepily. “He hasn’t come to bed with us.”
    Nick said, “I think he’s in with Mum. He really seems to like her.”
    And I realised that in my campaign to get on better with Erica, I was going to have to deal not only with my long-standing mistrust of her, but also with being jealous of my own cat.

CHAPTER SEVEN
    From: [email protected]
    To: [email protected]
    Subject: Strict instructions
    Hey beautiful
    Guess what? Mum’s off to see Deirdre in Norfolk so we have the flat to ourselves tonight. And I’m going to take you out for dinner then take you home and we can take advantage of her absence! I also have a surprise for you. So:
    1. Don’t work too hard.
    2. Meet me in the Aqua bar in the Shard at half seven.
    3. Wear. . . actually, I’ll leave that up to you.
    (Do you reckon this counts as one of those date nights you said Katharine was on about? I do.)
    N xx
    “Hi Florence,” said Eloise. “No, they didn’t have it in a size eight, I’m afraid. They’ve got a ten or a six. Would you still like me to order it for you? Okay, I’ll ring them back and check whether it comes up small. No problem. Just a second, I’ll see if he’s free.”
    Guido made furious ‘cut her off’ gestures, then said, “All right, I’ll take it. Thanks Eloise.”
    For the next ten minutes he listened with a face like Kevin the Teenager. Then he put the phone down on his desk and went to the fridge and poured a glass of San Pellegrino, then wandered back and picked the phone up again and listened for another few seconds. Then he went outside and had a fag before returning to his desk.
    “You’re quite right, darling. It won’t happen again. Of course I was! I listen to everything you say. All right, darling. No, I won’t be late. Nine thirty latest. Ciao ciao.
    “For fuck’s sake,” he muttered. “Right, I’m going to the restaurant for evening service.” I caught Eloise’s eye. We both knew this would mean Guido getting home well after midnight and facing Florence’s fury. “You girls knock off early. You deserve it.” He put on his coat, turned off his mobile and left.
    “Great!” said Tamar. “I’ll be on time for my yoga class for once.”
    “I can meet Dean and go to the pub,” said Eloise. “What about you, Pippa?”
    “Nick’s taking me out for dinner,” I said. “But we’re not meeting until half seven, so I may as well stay here and see if I can nail that soup recipe.” I thought for a moment. “Actually, to hell with it. I’m going shopping. There’s no way these jeans are worthy of the Shard.”
    So I got