read over my shoulder, it’s annoying.” He kissed me.
“I’m not reading, I’m just looking,” I said. “Come on, go to the food bit.” I pointed at the screen.
Nick elbowed me in the ribs. “Patience! Right, here we go. Brocklebury’s head chef is Hugh Jameson – Huge Amazon, great name – who trained with Marcus Wareing before spending six years travelling the world, working in some of the top kitchens in Australia, Hong Kong and Los Angeles. This international exposure has given Hugh’s cuisine a truly global flair, allowing you to derive culinary inspiration for your special occasion from the finest blah blah. Doesn’t say anything very much, does it?”
“Not much, but if he worked with Marcus he must know his stuff. Let’s look at the pictures of the bedrooms again.”
“Hold on, I think we’re here,” Nick said. “Isn’t that the maze they were going on about? And there’s the moat, complete with ‘our pair of unique black-feathered swans’. Don’t know what’s unique about them but they’re kind of cute. Why don’t I carry that, Pippa, it looks massively heavy. You take mine.”
When Nick’s excited, he can’t stop talking. I followed him up the stone steps, framed by a lichened balustrade, and into a hallway with a huge, glittering chandelier suspended from the high ceiling and a staircase branching off in two directions in front of us. In the centre of the room was a shiny round table with an enormous flower arrangement on it, and the scent of roses filled the air.
We stood for a second, drinking it all in and wondering where to go. Then a pretty dark-haired woman in a grey suit came clicking over to us on her high heels.
“Mr Pickford? Welcome to Brocklebury Manor!” she said. “I’m Imogen, the events manager. We don’t have a check-in desk here, because we like to keep everything totally informal and relaxed. We want our guests, especially our wedding couples, to feel as if this house is their home for the time they spend here. So if you’d like to leave your bags and coats, they’ll be brought up to your room in a few minutes. And if I could just swipe a credit card for any additional expenses during your stay? That’s lovely. Now, would you like a tea or coffee or something from the bar or shall we get straight into the grand tour?”
“Maybe a Diet. . .” I began.
“The grand tour, definitely,” said Nick.
Imogen paused, smiling.
“Let’s do the grand tour then. My fiancé and I are really looking forward to seeing it all.” I realised it was the first time I’d referred to Nick as ‘my fiancé’. It sounded weird. It made me feel old.
“Lovely,” said Imogen. “We’ll start here in the Great Hall, which is the bit most couples like to see first, because that’s probably where your exchange of vows will take place. If you’d prefer a religious marriage, there’s a chapel in the grounds that can comfortably accommodate eighty guests. However, the Great Hall has room for two hundred, so many of our couples choose to solemnise their marriage here. This is the oldest part of the house, and these are regarded as amongst the finest examples of mullioned windows in southern England. But as you’re having a winter wedding, you’ll be more interested in the fireplace! Despite the height of the ceilings, this room is always wonderfully warm, even in February. Now if you’d like to follow me through to the drawing room, where many of our couples choose to have their post-ceremony champagne and canapés, or tea and scones, or perhaps even mulled cider and roast chestnuts – Hugh will talk through all the catering options with you when you meet him. . .”
The tour took almost an hour. We were shown the formal gardens, where many happy couples chose to pose for their photographs if the weather was fine. We saw the dining room, which could accommodate two hundred guests for an informal buffet or eighty for silver service. We had a look around the
“I’m not reading, I’m just looking,” I said. “Come on, go to the food bit.” I pointed at the screen.
Nick elbowed me in the ribs. “Patience! Right, here we go. Brocklebury’s head chef is Hugh Jameson – Huge Amazon, great name – who trained with Marcus Wareing before spending six years travelling the world, working in some of the top kitchens in Australia, Hong Kong and Los Angeles. This international exposure has given Hugh’s cuisine a truly global flair, allowing you to derive culinary inspiration for your special occasion from the finest blah blah. Doesn’t say anything very much, does it?”
“Not much, but if he worked with Marcus he must know his stuff. Let’s look at the pictures of the bedrooms again.”
“Hold on, I think we’re here,” Nick said. “Isn’t that the maze they were going on about? And there’s the moat, complete with ‘our pair of unique black-feathered swans’. Don’t know what’s unique about them but they’re kind of cute. Why don’t I carry that, Pippa, it looks massively heavy. You take mine.”
When Nick’s excited, he can’t stop talking. I followed him up the stone steps, framed by a lichened balustrade, and into a hallway with a huge, glittering chandelier suspended from the high ceiling and a staircase branching off in two directions in front of us. In the centre of the room was a shiny round table with an enormous flower arrangement on it, and the scent of roses filled the air.
We stood for a second, drinking it all in and wondering where to go. Then a pretty dark-haired woman in a grey suit came clicking over to us on her high heels.
“Mr Pickford? Welcome to Brocklebury Manor!” she said. “I’m Imogen, the events manager. We don’t have a check-in desk here, because we like to keep everything totally informal and relaxed. We want our guests, especially our wedding couples, to feel as if this house is their home for the time they spend here. So if you’d like to leave your bags and coats, they’ll be brought up to your room in a few minutes. And if I could just swipe a credit card for any additional expenses during your stay? That’s lovely. Now, would you like a tea or coffee or something from the bar or shall we get straight into the grand tour?”
“Maybe a Diet. . .” I began.
“The grand tour, definitely,” said Nick.
Imogen paused, smiling.
“Let’s do the grand tour then. My fiancé and I are really looking forward to seeing it all.” I realised it was the first time I’d referred to Nick as ‘my fiancé’. It sounded weird. It made me feel old.
“Lovely,” said Imogen. “We’ll start here in the Great Hall, which is the bit most couples like to see first, because that’s probably where your exchange of vows will take place. If you’d prefer a religious marriage, there’s a chapel in the grounds that can comfortably accommodate eighty guests. However, the Great Hall has room for two hundred, so many of our couples choose to solemnise their marriage here. This is the oldest part of the house, and these are regarded as amongst the finest examples of mullioned windows in southern England. But as you’re having a winter wedding, you’ll be more interested in the fireplace! Despite the height of the ceilings, this room is always wonderfully warm, even in February. Now if you’d like to follow me through to the drawing room, where many of our couples choose to have their post-ceremony champagne and canapés, or tea and scones, or perhaps even mulled cider and roast chestnuts – Hugh will talk through all the catering options with you when you meet him. . .”
The tour took almost an hour. We were shown the formal gardens, where many happy couples chose to pose for their photographs if the weather was fine. We saw the dining room, which could accommodate two hundred guests for an informal buffet or eighty for silver service. We had a look around the
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