Chapter One, in which a turbulent day comes to an even more turbulent end

Nathalie breathed a sigh of relief when the last guest of the wedding party left the Black Feather around half past ten that evening. She was glad that everything had turned out well in the end.

It had been planned that the wedding party would first meet in the café for a breakfast buffet, but the originally announced forty guests had turned into almost ninety overnight, as the family of the Italian groom had decided to give him a special surprise and turn up to the wedding without any prior notice.

Nathalie had thought nothing of it when a coach pulled into the car park in front of the pub at just before seven that morning, as she had been expecting to have to keep turning guests away throughout the day, pointing out that it was a closed party. When a large group poured out of the coach, including everyone from small children to old people, Nathalie suspected that this was no ordinary coach.

Luckily, she had managed to get hold of her baker, who supplied the Black Feather with its the baked goods, and persuaded him to provide her with all the croissants he could muster. When the couple arrived at nine o'clock with the actually invited guests, there was a commotion, as everyone wanted to be introduced to everyone else and the groom's relatives insisted on greeting each of the other guests with a big hug and two kisses.

It all took up so much time that only the bride had the opportunity to eat a quick croissant with jam. "With my luck, my stomach will start growling so loudly moments before I say 'I do' that you will be able to hear it from the pews," she said to Nathalie.

She replied with a grin: "That's the moment you hate the fantastic acoustics of a church."

At just before eleven, the entourage of several limousines and the coach made its way to the church, albeit with revised seating arrangements, as the groom's parents and some other relatives were to be transported to the church in greater luxury.

While the other guests were looking for a seat in the cars, the bride's best friend came up to Nathalie and explained almost casually: "Oh, Miss Ames, I just wanted to thank you on behalf of Holly and Fabio for changing the menu to strictly vegetarian at such short notice.

"Strictly vegetarian?" Nathalie repeated, feeling like she'd been hit over the head. "Erm . when did Holly ask for this?"

"About a fortnight ago. I sent you an email."

Nathalie stared at her in disbelief. "Sent an email? I . didn't get an email with that request."

"You didn't? But that's what I assumed."

"I would have told you whether I could change the menu or not," countered Nathalie, who had to force herself to remain calm.

"Oh," said the young woman, who seemed a little naive. "I thought, since I didn't hear back from you ."

"Yes, I realise that," Nathalie interrupted. She thought about the horrendous bill she had received for more than forty pricey Kobe steaks. She realised she could be stuck with a mountain of meat that she wouldn't even be able to offer to her normal customers at cost price because no lorry driver would want to afford it.

"Oh, so you've bought the steaks now?"

Nathalie nodded.

"Oh, not so bad," said the woman, smiling unconcernedly. "Fabio can pay for the steaks, no problem, then you can use them how you like."

"Does that mean Fabio's family doesn't want them?"

The woman shook her head. "No, we've spoken to them, they all want to eat vegetarian too. As a gesture to the bride, so to speak, to show her that they accept her into the family."

"That's . very moving," Nathalie said.

After everyone had left and was expected back in just two hours, Nathalie stood for minutes in the car park outside the Black Feather and stared ahead of her. Then, sighing softly, she shook her head and called out, "Louise!"

"What?" came back muffled from inside.

Nathalie walked back to the pub and stopped in the doorway. Inside the pub, the waitresses were rushing back and forth to collect the coffee cups that were scattered everywhere, wipe down tables and rearrange them for the meal that was to follow later. Louise was in the kitchen and looked through the hatch to her. "Has something happened?"

Nathalie shrugged her shoulders. "Our side dishes have been promoted to the main course."

"Excuse me?"

"The bride and groom decided to cater for the whole party on a purely vegetarian basis. The bridesmaid allegedly sent an email, but never checked to see if it had been received."

Louise groaned. "So, no steaks."

"Right."

"And the pies are for the cat too?"

"That's the way it is. What's left then?"

"Potatoes," replied her cook, "and butterscotch pudding."

"Fred," Nathalie called out and looked round.

Her boyfriend put his head through the doorway and came into the pub, immediately sensing the tense atmosphere. "What's going on?"

"You need to close the country market immediately, send all the customers home and take away everything they want to buy. Except meat. They can have that."

"Excuse me?" Fred frowned in disbelief.

"I need every bean, every pea, every tomato, every cucumber, every courgette, everything that has nothing to do with meat," she explained. "Otherwise, the wedding party will always remember that the Black Feather had nothing to offer but a plate of potatoes with caramel pudding."

"Oh, right," said Fred. "I'll head straight over there now." He hurried to the flat at the back of the pub to get the car keys.

"Fred," Louise called to him as he walked past the kitchen. "Call me when you get to the market. I'll have a recipe picked out by then and can tell you what I need."

"Sure thing," he replied.

Louise looked through the hatch again. "And what are we going to do with forty-five steaks? I was expecting them all to be eaten this afternoon and the space in the fridge to be free again."

Nathalie looked thoughtfully in front of her for a moment. "We'll do something with them, Louise. Ronald?" she called out, looking around searchingly.

"Here, Nathalie, I'm right next to you," replied the dark-haired man who was standing at the counter helping a waitress pass through used cups.

"Oh!" She grimaced when she saw him. "I'm sorry, but since you shaved off your moustache, I only recognise you at second glance."

The constable grinned broadly at her. "I feel the same way sometimes when I look at myself in the mirror. What can I do?"

"You can grab the steaks and take them to the nearest food bank," she said.

"Are we talking about the Kobe steaks you ordered?" he asked to make sure.

"Yes, Ronald, and no, I don't mind if you hold back two steaks for Steph and yourself as a thank you for doing this for me," she replied. "Okay?"

While Fred left the pub to go to the country market, a cheerful Ronald went to the kitchen to pack up the steaks and take them away. Nathalie went through the corridor to the café next door, where there was a hive of activity as the room now had to be prepared for the extra wedding guests, who couldn't all fit into the pub.

As Nathalie had only organised enough waiters for the original number and failed to secure any temporary staff at such short notice, her friends had stepped in, without even being asked.

Jean-Louis Talradja, the coroner responsible for the district, was busy setting the tables with his girlfriend, Belle, who was an artist from Fred's group, and his nephew, Najib. When he saw Nathalie, he asked: "From the look on your face, you've just received some bad news after the ambush of the Italian relatives."

Nathalie nodded and reported that the wedding party was now boycotting meat. When Belle heard this, she beamed. "Oh, that's lovely! I'd like to do something like that at our wedding," she said dreamily, looking at the much taller Jean-Louis with an embarrassed smile.

"At our . what?" he asked, puzzled.

"Wedding," she repeated.

"When was 'our' wedding mentioned?" he replied, looking at Nathalie. "Did I just miss something?"

She shrugged her shoulders. "I think you understand what she meant," she said amusedly.

He looked indecisive. "To be honest, I had actually thought that I would do it under more romantic circumstances than in the middle of preparations for another wedding."

Belle blushed. She hesitated, then took a deep breath, knelt down, reached for his hand and said solemnly: "Jean-Louis Talradja, will you be my husband?"

The coroner looked as if he couldn't believe what was happening.

"Yes, Belle Starr, I want to be your husband," he finally replied with a broad smile, while Najib, who was standing in the background, widened his eyes in surprise.

Martin Lazebnik, Louise's boyfriend, who had opened a law firm in Earlsraven a while ago, approached the group while finishing what appeared to be difficult business conversation on his phone. Ending the call, he took in the happy scene and looked confused. "Why is everyone smiling? Have I missed something?"

"Belle and I have just got engaged," said Jean-Louis, as if trying on the new word for size.

"Heavens, couldn't you have waited for me to get off the phone from my finicky client first?" he joked. "My warmest congratulations!" he added, patting them both on the...