Lizzie’s new life in France is off to a damp start, but is there a ray of sunshine in store?
BY JO THOMAS
Drip, drip, drip, Lizzie hears in the distance. Drip, drip, drip, she hears again, and imagines a water feature cascading down the big staircase in the chateau to end in a pool in the middle of the hall.
Usually a table stands there with a large vase of greenery or roses from the walled garden.
Drip, drip, drip…
Her eyes ping open and she’s catapulted out of a mad dream she was having. She was trying to herd cats. Robbie Williams was asking for his lucky socks before he went onstage in the chateau grounds – and as for the water feature in the hall… For goodness’s sake! Nonsense! There is no water feature! Lizzie listens again. But she can hear water somewhere and it isn’t outside the chateau. Oh, no! Not today, of all days!
She throws back the covers, steps into her slippers and pulls on her dressing gown as she heads for the door. Outside, spring has been put on hold and rain is bucketing down. She runs to the hall, which is decorated for today’s wedding with dark green foliage from the grounds and chunky white candles in glass lanterns up the wide staircase.
As she runs down the hall, opening doors to find where the water’s coming from, she phones the local builder whose number is on the comprehensive list of instructions her sister left.
As she approaches one room in particular, the dripping gets louder. She pushes open the door to the refurbished bridal suite, the finishing touches put on just yesterday morning. And over the bay window, looking out to the wet, windy March day, water is coming in from the roof.
“Nooooo!” Of all the things a wedding organiser is supposed to prepare for, water leaking into the bridal suite shortly before the guests arrive isn’t one of them! She grabs a bunch of dried chrysanthemums from their antique steel bucket, tosses them onto the floor and puts the bucket in place to catch the drips. Then she tries the builder’s number. It rings! And he answers! Phew!
“Désolé, but I am on holiday. Escaping the rain in Normandy!” says the builder, with a throaty laugh and a cough.
“What am I going to do, Jean-Marc? I have a wedding party arriving today! It’s the bridal suite. The wedding’s ruined! I promised myself I could do this, but clearly I can’t.”
He sucks his teeth. “I will find someone and send them to you,” he says. “I will call
