So she said to Kevin that she would be grateful for any help she could get.
Before the end of the week, she had a friendly human dynamo in the shape of Trudy, mother of two and hotshot administrator, who was going spare at home while the children were busy with nursery school and playgroup. Within two days she had set up a spreadsheet with a To Do list plus target dates and notes of people to be consulted.
She also gave Bella some shrewd advice. ‘Lady Pansy is straight out of the quill pen era. Not her fault, but she needs managing.’
Bella gave a hollow laugh. ‘But how?’
‘You have to pre-empt her. Be pro-active. Set up meetings with her, put them in the diary, keep them short. Make her feel key to the whole process, but stop her picking up the phone every time she thinks of something else.’
It worked.
Of course, Lady Pansy didn’t like it. To begin with she forgot to copy her messages to Trudy. But when she found that Bella re-routed all her text messages to her new PA and kept her telephone permanently set to voice mail, she gave in. There was a difficult little meeting when she suggested, with great sweetness, that Bella was finding her new role too overwhelming.
‘Maybe you ought to move into the Palace? I can mention it to Her Majesty. We are having coffee this morning.’
The prospect was hair-raising. Bella knocked it on the head fast.
‘That’s very kind, Lady Pansy. But not necessary, thank you. I think I have worked out how to balance my work life with everything I need to do for the wedding. I’ll review the situation with Richard in a few weeks. And this is how I see it working …’
She presented Lady Pansy with the new timetable. Bella would still go to the Palace to meet her, but she would do it on a regular timetable: at 2 p.m. on Monday to review stuff that had come in at the weekend and make any changes needed to the week; a quick catch up on Wednesday at 5.30 p.m.; the major review and planning meeting of the week to be two hours on Friday morning. With adjustment to her childcare management, Trudy thought she could generally manage to attend the Friday meeting. Lady Pansy was to pass any questions to Trudy who would prioritise and manage while Bella was at work.
Lady Pansy knew when she had been outmanoeuvred. Her phone calls slowed to a trickle.
Bella and Trudy spoke at lunch-time every day.
‘You need to pace yourself,’ Trudy advised. ‘Plan to do one thing at a time and stick to it. Wedding dress this week. Bridesmaids the next.’
‘Oh, God, bridesmaids! I haven’t thought about bridesmaids.’
‘Next week,’ said Trudy firmly.
Yet it was Richard who found the solution to the wedding-dress problem.
‘Of course you can’t have a dress you hate,’ he said vehemently. ‘You’ll be looking at photographs of it for the rest of your life.’
‘But tradition …’
He took her left hand and looked at the ring. ‘We can set some of our own traditions.’
She searched his face. ‘You’re sure?’
‘Of course.’
‘Your mother had the full meringue, and so did your grandmother.’
He snorted. ‘And my great, great ever so great grandmother wore a dress of total bling. Your point is?’
Bella was stunned. ‘Bling? How do you know? I don’t believe you.’
‘Would I lie to you? Look, I’ll prove it.’
They were in his flat, padding around in earlymorning disarray. He went over to his desk and switched on the laptop.
‘Look. Here.’
Bella went and peered over his shoulder. He had called up a Regency sketch of a man in knee breeches and an elaborate jacket leading a girl in a slim, high-waisted, low-cut dress, with puffed sleeves trimmed with lace. Her hair had been screwed into a knot on top of her head and she was not wearing a veil. Bella peered closely.
‘Silver lamé on net over a tissue slip,’ she read. ‘It was embroidered at the bottom with silver lamé shells and flowers. The manteau – oh, I see, that was the train – the manteau was of silver tissue lined with white satin, with a border of embroidery to answer that on the dress and fastened in front with a splendid diamond ornament.’ She looked up. ‘Heavens, she must have looked like a Christmas tree.’
Richard’s lips quirked. ‘Especially when you think of all the candles they’d have needed.’ He flickered his fingers. ‘Glitter, glitter, glitter. What about going