Fishing For A Dream [Book Three]

Chapter 12 - Cheer Up London

It had become a rarity for Rose and I to actually hang out in a non-work setting, so when she asked if I fancied going to look at a possible wedding venue with her because Dee was working, I jumped at the chance. We hadn't done anything fun, just the two of us, for a long time and I missed it. I missed her being my best friend instead of just being my business partner.

Eltham Palace was a venue I'd always wanted to work at when I was a wedding planner, but never got the opportunity. Parts of the building were incredibly old, and it had even been the childhood home of Henry the VII, but there were newer parts which had been built and decorated during the 1930s that were in a gorgeous Art Deco style that was truly breathtaking.

As we strolled into the circular entrance hall, both of us gasped at the beauty of the clean-lined white furniture, the wooden panels on the walls, and the stunning white glass domed ceiling at the centre of the room. I'd seen it on plenty of occasions before, and it still made my heart flutter in awe whenever I walked in. But although Rose was making all of the correct noises, I could tell she wasn't as convinced this was the place for her as she had been in the car.

The place still had the added bonus of being one of the few places which had availability on the date Rose and Dee wanted - December 28th, their fathers' shared birthday.

"Dee wants as many pictures as possible," Rose said, snapping yet another photo, (she'd already taken so many in the short time since we'd arrived that I was certain it would have been easier to just stick a Gopro on her head so that she could film as we walked around!) "But I don't think they'll do any good."

"She's still set on Brighton, huh?" I replied - hypocritically - taking a photo of my own of the circular entrance hall and sending it to Harry.

"Yeah. Which, I'm not against, but it's so... far. And for a seaside town in late December, it could be pretty bleak."

"It could also be cosy and festive." Shrugging, I gazed up at the white glass, domed ceiling in awe. "But you don't seem particularly bowled over by this place either."

My best friend grimaced but didn't respond, but merely continued taking photographs as she surveyed the room, seemingly in search of something that would grab her and give her the feeling that she'd found the wedding venue for her.

Eventually, as we made our way upstairs to look at the rest of the house, she sighed like she had the weight of the world on her shoulders and said quietly, "I really don't know if I like the location. Do I really want to get married as stones throw away from... Mottingham?"

Laughter burst out of my mouth before I could stop it. She was correct that the surrounding area wasn't particularly idyllic, but she could hardly judge. "You're from bloody Bermondsey! Do you really have the right to be snobby about the delights of South East London?"

"It's precisely because I'm from Bermondsey that I can judge."

"So, you don't want to get married in this area, and Dee's dead set on Brighton Pavilion... Why are we here again?"