'Patrick you've been drinking!'

'No I have not! It's tea! Look... Alex and I went to the café for a cup of tea and we found this... see TEA!'

'It's beer.'

'Yeah he-he, but its 'tea' beer... see TEA... we're just having a cup of tea - ha ha!'

I don't believe it! They're drunk. Two hours before the wedding party arrives, eight twelve foot birch trees to erect and bedeck with fairy lights, twenty-four table centres to finish. The whole thing is a logistical nightmare, and they're drunk.

'Err... err... err?'

'What are you trying to say Clarissa? I do have a name you know.'

'Yeah ha! Ha! It's the wicked witch! She's the wicked witch! Watch out or she'll chop off all your fingers and toes! Haaaaa Haaaaa!'

'Patrick shut up! Will someone please throw him into the van and cover him with a bin bag.'

Preferably one that is full and heavy. How dare he get drunk? He would never get drunk if it was his job. No if it was his job we'd all be in uniform with white gloves on, while he pranced around like some celebrity florist, flute of champagne in hand b****y 'Dahling-ing' everybody.

The child looks worried... it could be constipation I suppose.

'What do you want Clarissa?'

'The catering man says there aren't enough table centres.'

'What is he on about? Of course there are enough table centres. Twelve tables, three lavender pots per table that's thirty- six. We made forty for heavens sake! What is it? Why are you looking at me like that? What have you done?'

'The man says there are twenty one tables.'

There can't be twenty-one tables. They said there were twelve; I quoted for twelve. They saw the quote three times. At no point did anyone say the tables had increased... one, two, three four, five... Oh my G*d there are twenty-one tables!

'BALEESHA!'

'I heard. We've got some lavender in the Shop window... Wimbledon window remember? Tennis racquets, nets, Robinson's barley water... purple and green... lavender? Never mind, I'll go back and get it. You are absolutely stuffing useless. How could you get the table centres so wrong?'

Shall I hang her with my reel wire now or wait till she comes back? Wait till she comes back we need the lavender pots. She's right though, I should have spotted it... I did do the two hundred and twenty five place settings after all. How big did I think the tables were for G*d's sake?

'Can you manage without me? You've got to do the fairy lights and you hate heights.'

I hate everything! I hate you, I hate weddings, I hate Patrick and I especially hate Clarissa when she looks like that. Sympathy doesn't suit you Clarissa, go back to doing useless. On second thoughts...

'What are you like with heights Clarissa?'

Err... err'

Great... you're doing the poles. Of course we can manage without you Baleesha and it wasn't my b****y fault but we'll argue about that later. Take the Irish corpse with you; drop him in any passing skip. Hurry! And don't forget the pots!'

'F**k off!'

'No that's four and three, I said five and five... I've got it 'Miami Beach.'

Mid job crisis and my daughter is still buried in the Times.

'Charlie you haven't got time to play student now! Put the paper down. Go and fill the buckets with water. Alex you help her and if you spill so much as a teaspoonful, you're dead.'

'Mum that's not fair, he's not feeling well.'

'Since when did 'pissed as a fart' equate to 'not feeling well'? He can still carry can't he? Move! Clarissa up the ladder, I'll pass the lights up, you drape.'

Where is everybody? The birch trees are going to die if they don't get into water soon. Amend the birch trees are dying, a bit like the crucifixion really. Where is Simon with the wet sponge when you need him? The lights look good though. Well-done Clarissa - I might even pay you today.

'There is no water.'

'What do you mean there is no water?'

'Which bit didn't you understand Mum? The 'there is no' or 'water'? It's a marquee remember? Stuck in the middle of a park. There is no water!'

'The lake! There's water in the lake! Take the van and fill up the buckets in the lake! Take Alex with you. He can wade in - it might sober him up.'

'He might get cryptosporidiosis.'

He might drown.

'In Surrey? I think not. Hurry please.'

What on earth is cryptosporidiosis? I bet she just read that in the paper. I hate students too.

Flight of the bumblebee beckons. Where is the s*****g mobile? Oh no, it's at the top of the ladder; Clarissa had to tell her Mum she was going to miss lunch. Since when did Saturday girls get a lunch break? I didn't get a lunch break when I was a Saturday girl. G*d I hate ladders, I'm going to fall I know I am... 'Oh aren't the flowers beautiful... and hey, look, a dead florist'...

'Hello?'

'We've broken down.'

'What do you mean you've broken down?'

No that road that leads to the 'which bit don't you understand?' syndrome.

'Baleesha what exactly has broken down?'

Much better. Now just concentrate on the phone and forget that you are twenty foot up a ladder. Well perhaps it is only twelve but it feels like twenty.

'We've got a flat tyre.'

Aaah flat. What a lovely word is 'flat'. So much nicer than 'down' or 'great height', give me a 'flat' and a 'ground' any day of the week... concentrate you stupid woman, they've got a flat tyre.

'Is the drunken Irishman still with you?'

'Yes, he didn't like the look of any of the skips on offer, said they were too common and he was only getting into a designer skip'

'Throw a bucket of water over him and make him change the wheel. Have you got the lavender and the pots?'

'Of course I have, I'm not the idiot.'

Ignore her.

'Right. While he's changing the wheel you make up the pots... and hurry!'

Hang up now before she has a chance to argue.

'What did it look like?' Was it beautiful?'

'Of course it was beautiful Petunia, we only do beautiful. You can't charge the prices we charge and do 'average'.'

Why do we always have to have a post mortem? Why can't everyone just get back to work? There is still ten minutes of shop time left in case no one had noticed.

'Haaaa haaaa. It was so cool! We had such fun! The old witch was ranting and raving and WE just had fun!'

I give up.

'She nearly fell off the ladder... and then she stepped into the bucket of water that Charlie and Alex had got from the lake! Haaaa Haaaa! And she says Oi was drunk! Haaaa! Haaaa!'

'Shut up Patrick!'

What's up with Baleesha? She looks like she's going to cry. Not like her to miss a laugh at my expense.

'What's the matter tart?'

'Do you think they liked it? I mean, we haven't heard anything yet and they must be at the reception by now. Maybe they hated it.'

Oh right, it's the 'I need to be re-assured that I'm b****y brilliant' game.

'Of course they liked it. They couldn't not like it. It looked amazing!'

'I know but...'

Brrrrrrrrrrr Brrrrrrrrrrr

Brrrrrrrrr Brrrrrrrrrrrrr

Seven staff in the shop and how do I know no one is going to pick up the phone?

'Hello... Oh hi... Yes just. No, no problems at all. It all went really smoothly... no really smoothly, it was great. No? Brilliant! She didn't? Really? Oh no that's so nice. Yes I will. Enjoy the rest of the day. Thank you. Bye'

Oh suddenly I'm the centre of attention... well there's a surprise.

'Who was that?'

Like you don't know Baleesha.

'The mother of the bride.'

'And?'

Shall I let her suffer for a few minutes? No best not, she might buy me a drink if I put her out of her misery.

'She cried... The bride cried... she was overwhelmed! A resounding triumph! Did you expect anything else? It's all down to organisation my dears. Now come on, lets shut the shop and hit the pub!'

I hate weddings.

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