Free An Enormously English Monsoon Wedding by Christina Jones

two-faced bitch woman from hell.
    ‘Who’s Nalisha?’
    Jay kissed her, and despite everything, she melted. It was OK. Nalisha was on her way back to Birmingham – oooh, no, Solihull, darling – wasn’t she? And now it was just her and Jay. Together. As it always would be.
    ‘Oh,’ Erin sighed happily. ‘I do love you.’
    ‘I love you, too. Such a shame I have to be in surgery this afternoon, because I really, really want to –’
    The Mercedes came to a sudden halt on the gravel and reversed slowly.
    Deena leaned from the window. ‘Oh, darlings, Nalisha and I have just had such a wonderful idea. As she’s going to be at a bit of a loose end until she takes up her new job, why doesn’t she come down here and stay in Nook Green for a couple of days? She can help you with all the little odds and ends that are bound to crop up before the wedding.’
    Nooo! Erin screamed silently.
    ‘And she’ll be able helpErin out with any of those awkward little cultural queries that are bound to occur,’ Deena continued, still smiling.
    Over my dead body, Erin thought.
    ‘Oh, I don’t need any help at all,’ Erin said through gritted teeth. ‘I’m perfectly well organised, thank you. It’s a lovely offer, of course, but …’
    Jay shrugged. ‘Well, if Nalisha wants to be bored to tears in a very tiny Berkshire village, then I’m sure we’d love to have her for a few days, wouldn’t we?’
    No, we bloody wouldn’t, Erin, thought crossly, trying not to look at Nalisha, smiling smugly in the back of the car. Nalisha is clearly a grade-A cow.
    ‘Fabulous!’ Deena beamedsome more. ‘I’ll leave the arrangements to you then, darlings. Byeeeee!’

Chapter Seven

    ‘So, when does she arrive?’ Doug Boswell clambered over several packing cases in the back room of the Old Curiosity Shop, easing his long ripped-jeaned legs carefully to the floor. ‘Nalisha – this stunning Indian woman that you seem to dislike? She’ll be here soon, won’t she?’
    ‘Don’t remind me. The day after tomorrow. Fortunately it means we’ll get tomorrow’s dress fitting out of the way before she gets here,’ Erin said, straightening up and inelegantly wiping dust from under her nose with the back of her hand. ‘Jay’s booked her into the Bates Motel for three days.’
    ‘The Bates Motel?’ Doug chuckled. ‘Seriously?’
    Erin nodded. ‘It’s what she deserves.’
    Esme Bates ran a small hotel – the White House – all very genteel and very twee, on the outskirts of Nook Green. Esme was about ninety but she had an IQ of about six million and had very, very high standards.
    Doug laughed. ‘Wouldn’t sheprefer to stay at the Merry Cobbler?’
    ‘She’d probably prefer to stay at the Ritz but it isn’t going to happen,’ Erin snorted. ‘And I’d prefer it if she stayed in Solihull for ever and ever and ever.’
    ‘You really don’t want her here, do you?’
    Erin frowned at her uncle across the shop. ‘Oh, well spotted.’
    It was a week after the Keskars visit to the Swan. Early August had followed late July and settled steamily into what the red tops still called a Proppa Scorcha. And, with only five weeks to go, it seemed to Erin that all her carefully organised wedding plans were rapidly unravelling. And now Nalisha was coming to stay for a few days. And Nalisha, who had
promised
to have a word with Deena about interfering, was clearly a two-faced bitch.
    Jay had thought it was a great idea, and Erin had found it impossible to tell him that she really, really didn’t, without sounding jealous and insecure and needy. And Nalisha’s parting shot about her cheap sandals might have not been as cruel as it sounded, might it? Maybe …
    ‘But there’s never been anything between Jay and Nalisha, has there?’ Doug sliced through a wodge of gaffer tape and delved into the packing case. ‘Romantically, I mean?’
    ‘No, I don’t think so. He says not, but honestly I’m not sure. I’m not sure about anything any