The next morning, Andy and Miranda could both feel their twins' intense scrutiny over the breakfast table, looking for any signs of remaining tension. They both deeply regretted what the youngsters had witnessed the night before and were determined to send them off to school completely reassured about the security of their happy home.

Normally, they tried not to be too demonstrative towards each other in front of the girls, not overtly sexual at least, but this morning Andy wrapped herself all round Miranda and openly kissed her on the mouth and squeezed her breasts. Miranda responded in kind, and licked her provocatively on the ear, making her squeal.

Caroline rolled her eyes, and said, "OK. Enough. You don't have to overdo it you know. We get the message."

Miranda went a little pink, especially when Cassie added sternly. "How can we grow up normal, when both here and at Dad's we're surrounded with all this yucky stuff?"

By 'yucky stuff' she supposed her daughter meant sexual banter and overt affection. Poor kids, adults could be so embarrassing at times. But she hoped they'd got the point across that she and Andy were in a permanent loving partnership. She decided to refocus the conversation onto the wedding itself.

"When you come home from school this afternoon, Uncle Nigel will be here to sort out our dresses. Cassie, if you really would prefer pants, I don't see why we can't come up with something."

Caroline was very dubious. "Don't encourage her, Mom. She'd wear jeans if she could."

"Then she must take after Andy, who in turn takes after her Momma, who is a wonderful person. No, if Cassie would feel happier, I think it would be fun for Nigel to source a little pants suit. She could look like Gainsborough's 'Blue Boy'. It would be adorable."

Andy guessed Cassie was thinking of a look, more like the Lone Ranger's, than anything with frills and fancy knee britches, but she admired Miranda for letting her choose. The only trouble was, if as many press pictures emerged from the wedding as Nigel had predicted, every bridesmaid in America would also be turned out in pants suits for the next year. The media would assume Miranda Priestly was out to set a new trend, and slavishly follow her.

She had a sudden impish idea. "Hey, Miranda, why don't you wear a pants suit? You never do, and it would look super sexy. You could play the bridegroom in style then."

"No, I never wear pants except at home and in extremely remote locations where no-one knows me. I have my look, and I like to stay with it."

"Oh very well. Just suggesting, you know. Bring out your inner butch and all that."

The last sentence was said sotto voce, as the girls were shrugging on the jackets and collecting their bags. Cara, who was in the kitchen with them, was already preparing to take them to their first classes, and heard it too.

She had known Miranda for at least ten years and could count on the fingers of one hand the number of times she'd ever seen her in pants for a formal occasion. But Andy's words intrigued her. She'd never considered Miranda as butch before. Her employer was so intensely feminine in many ways, with her make-up, her perfume, her exquisite wardrobe, her nail varnish.

The subtleties of lesbian relationships went over Cara's head most of the time, but she was learning, and there was no doubt Miranda was now more 'out' than she had ever been. She, like the twins, had noted her fooling around with Andy just now, and could actually visualise them in bed together more easily than before. Andy too, could look quite boyish at times, at other times like a beautiful princess. It was all very bewildering.

She remembered when Andy had had that injury to her skull, how Miranda and she had locked themselves away in their bedroom for hours at a time, and there was the continual sound of whispered laughter and the occasional scream, as she had stoically carried on dealing with the decorators and vacuuming the stair-carpet.*

She missed her soldier husband keenly, but in all their married life, never had she fancied spending four hours in a locked bedroom just having fun with him. Sex with him had never lasted than ten minutes, ever. Oh well.

"You ready, kiddoes? Right then, kiss your Mom and let's go."

And then Miranda and Andy were left in peace.

They looked at each other across the kitchen table.

"Let's sit down," said Miranda, "and you can tell me exactly how we got into this mess and what you and Emily have or haven't done so far. It's only been a day. Nothing need be irrevocable, surely."

Andy pulled over her large white notepad, and clicked open her pen. Miranda was being calm, and co-operative, but she could see she still fully intended they should cancel the joint enterprise. She began cautiously to explain and re-introduce the idea again, in a quiet non-threatening manner. That might work better than flinging it at her suddenly as though it was a done deal.

"Well," she said, "It all began when I got to Runway on Monday, and purely by chance Emily let slip that they'd booked their wedding for May 15th. It was a horrible shock. She had phoned the Inn and the person who took the call seemed to have got quite the wrong end of the stick, and just thought she was re-confirming our booking. So of course she said everything would be fine for that day.

"Then Emily and Serena went forging ahead and booked up flights from Brazil, a Samba band, and a spit roast pig BBQ caterer. The Inn had agreed to do all the champagne and canapes, just as they had for us. Why Em and Seri hadn't taken in the date on our invitations to them remains a mystery though. They were sitting on their mantelpiece as clear as anything. She had ours ready to give me by hand.

"Yes." said Miranda, ominously quiet. "Well, what happened when you found out the mistake?"

"We were both so shocked, but I had to go try on my dress, while Emily called the Inn to find out if we were really had both booked the same day. And then Nigel made a big joke of it, and said of course we would have to just make it a double wedding. It would save the guests two trips up to the Cape, and everyone could have a . . . really . . .good . . . time . . ."

She looked up into Miranda's frosty blue eyes with her deep chocolate ones as her confidence seeped away, and her mouth grew dry. Miranda pursed her lips in that ominous way as if she had just sucked on a slice of lemon.

There was a long pause, then "Hmm. So tell me more. What bright ideas have you come up with so far?"

So far? So good. Andy tip-toed out across the ice.

"Well, guestrooms won't be a problem at least. Mel, the really nice inn keeper, not her partner who took the message, has arranged with the Inn next door to accommodate as many again as we booked for. We could also have the reception in stages. Drinks and snacks on arrival and then the first wedding with all the guests seated for that one, while the others who won't also be at it can move off into the side garden where they won't disturb too much.

"That could be at Noon. Then a decent interval for photos and kisses all round etc. Then at two o'clock the second party can have their ceremony. You know, even you wouldn't want to miss Serena and Emily's wedding, would you? Around three p.m. we could have the classic English garden party tea you wanted, with fancy little sandwiches and cakes, and the wedding cake, and then much later the pig-roast could be in the evening, about 7.30 onwards.

"Uncle Charles and the girls can play their cello piece twice, in the afternoon and then later, to set the evening off, and then we can move on to the Latin American band for the main evening dancing. Your preferred trad. jazz band can play all afternoon while the tea is served."

Miranda sat at her kitchen table and played with the frame of her glasses. Her expression was unreadable. Andrea held her breath. Breaking the silence, again, she leaned forward and lightly ran her finger-tip across the top of Miranda's hand.

"Think about it Miri, it wouldn't be so bad. You and I could say our vows and share our love surrounded by our families, and the folk from Runway, and the place really is big enough so we won't be squashed in with all the Brazilians. You know there's all the beach behind where they will probably want to go anyway. Brazilians have this thing about beaches."

"Supposing it rains . . . "

"It won't. I won't allow it. But the Inn folk say we can have two massive marquees, more than enough for everyone."

"Well . . . ."

"Oh, and another big plus I just thought of! We might throw the paparazzi off the scent if it's billed as a double wedding. They won't expect that."

"So what does Serena think about all of this?"

"Serena? She was absolutely furious. She kept Emily up all night when she first heard the news, screaming that she wasn't playing second fiddle to Miranda Priestly, much as she admires you. She seemed to think their wedding would just end up being a little side-show to our main event.

"But Emily has managed to talk Serena round. She's made her realise that the main thing of course is that all four of us want to get married, that we each love our partners to the moon and back. And now Serena has agreed to compromise.

"It also seems her father now wants to pay for the whole thing! He's one of the richest men in Rio apparently, so isn't used to sharing, not his daughter, or the costs of her wedding. He wanted them to marry in Brazil, but there it would be even more scandalous, and anyway, illegal of course."

Miranda thought long and hard. So Serena's initial reaction had been just like hers, had it? Well that balanced things a little more evenly. If her fiery beauty editor could compromise, then maybe it was her duty to do so as well. The alternatives would be very painful, and of course everyone in New York would blame her. As long as Andy was happy.

"Darling, do you honestly not mind sharing the day with them? Despite my temper tantrum yesterday, I really only want what will give you joy. I don't want your one and only wedding day to be spoiled in any way."

"As long as you are the one I am marrying, I don't care if the wedding is in a sub-way station, or in the central fish market, surrounded by people selling mackerel. I will only have eyes for you, you know that."

"In that case, no-one is going to say that Miranda Priestly is an unreasonable woman. Very well. I reluctantly agree, but on two conditions only."

"What are they?"

"I want Emily's father to confess to her all about his past before he steps into my presence on our wedding day. He's had more than enough time. I know just what sort of life he left behind, and she needs to know the truth. It could affect her safety, and Serena's, in the future. There used to be contracts out on Trev Charlton and if his face gets in the tabloids, then old associates connected with the Mafia could well spot him and come to settle old scores. She has to persuade him to come to the USA a few days early and bring him to see me again"

"And the second condition?"

"I want you to rearrange the times. I want ours to be the main event, after Emily's, the final show down the runway if you like. No-one is going to upstage my girl."

Andy realised Miranda had an unerring grasp of the dramatic potential of building the day up to a natural climax with their wedding. The show-girl in her was coming out. If they were getting married, then it was going to be the Finale, not the first Act.

"Darling Miranda, thank you so much. I am sure we can do it just as you say. Oh Emily will be so relieved, and the people at the Inn. I am too of course. But I realise how painful this has been for you. Thank you, darling, so, so much."

"Oh go on. Why don't you make us both a coffee while I call Nigel about Cassie's wild ideas about her costume? I know I promised her we'd let her wear pants, but I hope he can sort it out."

So Andy went to make coffee, and while the water boiled, she called Emily and broke the good news that Miranda had come round to their idea having some merit.

Emily didn't understand why Miranda needed to see her father, but he would easily agree to come early, she was sure. He was still involved with the weird mother of Kerry, Sal the policewoman's partner,** he'd met at their Christmas party, and had begun crossing the Atlantic regularly. Serena, too would be grateful, in the end. Their marriage couldn't come too quickly for her, as her Father was already threatening to send private detectives to vet Emily as suitable wife material for his eldest daughter.

"Serena laughed at that idea, of course. She knows my Dad is a pillar of the establishment and I was educated in a convent school in Godalming."

"So was that where you learned to swear like a sailor's parrot?" asked Andy.

"Too bloody right."

Andy carried the coffee back to Miranda, who was still on the phone to Nigel. If Serena's father commissioned a detective to dig up dirt on Emily's family, then the sooner she knew the truth from him the better. Oh dear. And another thought crossed Andy's mind, weren't people with a criminal record who had been in gaol longer than a year actually banned from coming into America? So how had Mr Charlton squeezed in before?

Miranda finished her call.

"Nigel says he will do his best, but that I can forget about The Blue Boy idea. He says Cassie has already been bending his ear. Why do I have to live with three such strong-minded women?"

"I wouldn't worry about that, darling. More importantly, we mustn't let Cassie get too close to the pig-roast. If she sees the piggy on the spit, she be horrified, as will my Mom although I suppose we should be grateful it's not a fully grown ox. I think we need some strong vegetarian alternatives for the non-meat eaters. Now, what do you think about this news? Serena's father. ."

And Andy began to tell Miranda about the fact that she wasn't the only threat to Mr Charlton's peace of mind. Then, just as they were relaxing over their drinks, Cara came home from the school run.

"I forgot to tell you, Andy," she said, hanging up her jacket. "Yesterday afternoon, when you were out, your sister Hannah called. She says she has brilliant news, but there is some problem about a green card or something, and can you call her back? She's in Tokyo, so it will be late evening there now, but you had better do it. She said it was urgent. I'm sorry. I should have left you a note."

"Oh heck," thought Andy, "I do hope she and Harry can still come to the wedding!" And she went to a quiet room to make the call. Of all her siblings she was closest in age and friendship to Hannah, and her wedding would be quite spoiled if she couldn't be there. Was this going to be something else to worry about?

*As told in 'A Bang on the Head'.

** As told in 'The Spirit of Christmas.'