Chapter Text
“Alfred? Could you please help me?”
Alfred Paget turns away from his reflection to see Edward Drummond, his roommate and best friend since they started university, standing awkwardly in the doorway of his bedroom.
Edward is looking rather gorgeous in the tux that Alfred had picked out for him, not trusting him to choose his own outfit that didn’t involve a ridiculously loud shirt or an oversized jumper - his tall and dark good looks certainly don’t hurt either.
But the overall effect is undercut somewhat by the way Edward is awkwardly fidgeting with the bow tie around his neck. Apparently tying it by himself is beyond his capabilities.
Alfred can’t help but grin fondly, even as he rolls his eyes and sighs dramatically, moving over to Edward and batting his hands away impatiently as he makes quick work of tying his bow tie for him.
“You know, you’re really going to have to learn to do this yourself one of these days,” Alfred tells him. “It’s not that difficult.”
“It’s just annoying,” Edward mutters, pulling at it, his face slightly flushed as Alfred steps back from him.
“How come I don’t have any trouble with it, then?” Alfred asks smugly.
“I don’t know...witchcraft?” Edward suggests with a shrug.
Alfred chuckles, shaking his head.
“I wish. Hogwarts letter is running a bit late, if that’s the case.”
Edward cracks a grin at that, and Alfred can’t help but grin back at him.
“C’mon, we’d better get going. Wouldn’t want to turn up late to a wedding, particularly not a wedding that I orchestrated in the first place. Got everything? Alright, let’s go, hurry up.”
Edward sighs as Alfred chivvies him out the door, locking the apartment behind them.
“You did not ‘orchestrate’ this wedding, Alf.”
“Less talk, more walk, please, Drummond,” Alfred responds chirpily as he shepherds his best friend down the corridor. “And I did too orchestrate this wedding. It wouldn’t even be happening if it weren’t for me.”
“Oh, come on,” Edward scoffs. “I know you like to take credit for everything, Alf, but this ? Really? ”
“Yep,” Alfred answers, unfazed by Edward’s disbelieving expression. “Think about it. Your boss Robert Peel, who adores you so much that he wants to spend time with you socially outside of work - you introduce him to me. I, using my powerful natural intuition, immediately deduce that the man has been lonely ever since his divorce. And so I introduce him to my wonderful family friend Emma Portman - she’s brilliant, kind and thoughtful, but also sorely needing to get back in the dating game after her divorce. Both of them clever, political, determined and ambitious yet thoughtful - but both lonely and desperately needing to find love again. I knew from the very beginning that the two of them were a match made in heaven; so, all it took was a little push here, a little nudge there, and voila , magic! And now, we’re about to see the result - a wedding and a happily ever after! I mean, I knew I was good, but I didn’t know I was this good.”
Edward sighs again.
“Yes, Alfred - I already knew all of that, funnily enough. But it’s a bit of a stretch to claim that you made this wedding happen, Alfred. Obviously they’re grateful to you for introducing them - though I might add that you would never have met Robert in the first place if it weren’t for me .”
Alfred waves this reminder away as irrelevant, and Edward continues.
“But regardless, the two of them dating and falling in love, and Robert proposing - I’m pretty sure that was all them. You really didn’t have all that much to do with it. It’s not like you caused Robert to propose - I mean, the most you ever did was tell me that you thought the two of them would make a great couple. And then, when we heard that Robert had asked Emma out, you said to me ‘Ha! Told you so!’ And then after we heard that he had proposed to her and she’d accepted, you continued to tell me ‘told you so’...y’know, just in case I hadn’t heard you the first five hundred and fifty times.”
Alfred pauses for a moment, furrowing his brow as he considers Edward’s words. Then his face clears, leaving nothing but certainty.
“Nope,” he says. “I’m still pretty sure it was me that made this wedding happen. Because I’m the best matchmaker. The couples I put together stick together. And I’ll prove it again - you’ll see.”
Edward huffs out an exasperated sigh.
“Sure, whatever. You’re the best matchmaker.”
“I know I am,” Alfred responds gleefully.
He knows Edward is trying to look cross with him, but as usual the effect is somewhat ruined by his affectionately amused expression as he shakes his head.
As the lift deposits them in the car park of their apartment building and Edward begins fumbling for his keys, they lull into relative silence for a few minutes - apart from Edward muttering under his breath, which Alfred chooses to ignore. Edward’s just annoyed that he lost the argument, and he doesn’t want to admit it.
A few minutes after they’ve set off, though, Alfred decides he’d better break the silence with a new topic, because he hates it when Edward is actually upset with him. Not that he would be now. But just in case.
“I can’t believe that we’re still not going to meet Will Peel this evening. I mean, I know his job keeps him very busy and travelling all over the world, he’s a high-flying businessman, yada yada - but come on! His dad never shuts up about him, I’ve been wanting to meet him for ages to see if he lives up to the hype - and now it turns out his work is keeping him so busy that he can’t even come back to the village for his own dad’s wedding ? I mean, can you believe that?!”
“Yep,” Edward responds bluntly, without taking his eyes off the road as he drives.
“Yep?” Alfred echoes, looking at his best friend in shock. “What do you mean, yep ?!”
He sees Edward bite back a grin at the indignance in his voice.
“I mean yes, I can very easily believe that Will Peel can’t be bothered to come to Highbury even for his dad’s wedding,” Edward says calmly, shrugging.
Alfred continues to stare at him indignantly until Edward glances momentarily away from the road to meet his gaze, before giving a small sigh and elaborating.
“Look, I never understood why you were so fascinated by the idea of Will Peel, or why you seem to have got it into your head that he must be this wonderful guy, just because his father harps on about him constantly. I mean, he doesn’t seem all that wonderful to me. I kind of always got the impression that Robert fawns over his son, but Will couldn’t really give two shits about his father, or what his father thinks of him.”
“Maybe he’s just a bit of a rebellious and sexy bad boy,” Alfred muses with a grin. “I mean, I’d tap that.”
Edward grimaces.
“Maybe. Or maybe he’s just an immature, self-absorbed manchild who’s completely ungrateful for everything his dad’s ever done for him. Everything I’ve ever heard about him has made me think he must be pretty full of himself,” he answers sceptically.
Alfred gapes at him. It’s pretty unusual for Edward to have a bad word to say about anybody - especially the son of a man he admires so much. Especially somebody he’s never even met.
“Are you sure you’re not just jealous?” he asks, raising an eyebrow. “Because you saw me stalking Will on Insta the other day and you saw how ridiculously pretty he is?”
“ What?” Edward asks indignantly. “Of course I’m not jealous...that’s ridiculous …”
“You know you’re pretty too, right?” Alfred says, cutting across his grumbling, and Edward, predictably, flushes scarlet. “You don’t need to be jealous.”
“I told you, I’m not jealous!” Edward protests.
“Well, regardless, you’re making a pretty cynical snap judgement about someone you’ve never even met.”
Edward glances over at him again. Alfred raises an eyebrow, and Edward sighs slightly, acknowledging the hit.
“I just feel like, no matter how busy this guy is with work, if he was really a thoughtful person who took other people’s feelings into consideration, he might make a bit more effort to show up for his own father’s wedding .”
Alfred just looks at him silently, raising his eyebrow still higher. Edward avoids his eyes as he carefully manoeuvres the car into a parking space outside the wedding venue. Once the car is parked and the engine turned off, Edward chews on his lower lip for a moment, before finally turning to meet Alfred’s gaze. Alfred recognises that look. It’s Edward’s ‘truce’ look.
“Okay, fine. For all I know, Will Peel is the loveliest guy in the world, and he was desperate to come to his father’s wedding and congratulate his new stepmother. Maybe he’s really upset that his work is keeping him so busy that he can’t see his dad. I’ll give him the benefit of the doubt if you want me to. Who knows, maybe I’m wrong and you’re right.”
“I’m always right,” Alfred responds immediately. “You know that.”
Edward rolls his eyes, though he can’t hold back a small grin.
“Of course. How could I forget?”
“Speaking of which,” Alfred says, smirking slightly, “we should really head inside so we’re not late for Robert and Emma’s wedding. You know. The wedding which I orchestrated.”
Edward sighs again.
Next morning, as Alfred wipes down a table for the next patrons, he tries not to wince too visibly as his head throbs.
Hartfield Cafe might be a pretty great place to work, and his boss Victoria might be funny and cool as bosses go, but he still should have known better than to tell her he was fine to come into work today. The wedding ceremony had been beautiful, just as he’d predicted, and the reception had been fabulous - apart from Will Peel’s absence, of course. Nevertheless, the hangover he’s experiencing now is by no means insignificant, despite all the water that Edward had made him drink when they’d got home, and he hadn’t dared to call in sick on such short notice when he knew Victoria was counting on him. In fact, he’s trying his hardest right now not to give her any reason to think he’s functioning at anything less than an optimal level; Victoria might be small, but she’s also one of the scariest people Alfred has ever met. He certainly wouldn’t put it past her to give him a bollocking if she thought he was providing crappy customer service.
Edward bites back a grin as Alfred walks over towards the table in the corner where he’s sitting with his laptop open in front of him, which only increases Alfred’s irritation. Edward knows perfectly well how hungover he is right now - he’s the one who coaxed him out of bed, bribed him to go to work by making pancakes for breakfast and gave him a lift to the cafe, after all. But it’s annoying to see him looking so sprightly and awake as he sits there in that oversized burgundy jumper that he loves so much, coffee cup in front of him, hastily pushing his glasses back up his nose and looking back at his laptop screen as he sees Alfred shooting him a scowl. Edward’s not hungover at all, of course - and Alfred knows he would probably be feeling a lot less shitty right now if he had actually listened to Edward last night when he’d told him to slow down a bit because he had work in the morning. Not that he’d ever tell Edward he was right, of course.
“Don’t you have an office to work in or something, Drummond?” he grumbles.
“I guess I just can’t get enough of you, Alf,” Edward snarks back at him, rolling his eyes - although his attempt at sarcasm is somewhat ruined by the way he flushes slightly as he speaks.
Alfred rolls his eyes back at him, although he can’t help but grin slightly as he does. It always amuses him that Edward blushes so easily. It’s kind of adorable, actually, truth be told.
“You’re lucky your boss loves you so much, you know,” he responds.
“Robert’s on his honeymoon at the moment, Alfred, I very much doubt he cares about where I’m working from right now,” Edward answers, grinning.
Alfred huffs by way of reluctantly conceding his point.
“Yeah, but you’re always here.”
Edward shrugs.
“Well, I guess he doesn’t mind if I work from here because he knows I always get my column to him before the deadline. Makes no difference to him if I’m here or actually in the Donwell offices, as long as I get the work done.”
Alfred rolls his eyes again.
“Yeah, yeah, you’re a good boy, I get it,” he mutters.
He knows his hangover is making him more irritable than he’d usually be; but when Edward smiles at his tone, he can’t help but smile back at him, feeling his annoyance lessen.
Edward opens his mouth to respond, but their conversation is cut short as Victoria stomps over to them, looking rather bad-tempered and frazzled. Instinctively, Alfred shrinks away from her slightly, worried that he’s already done something to annoy her.
“Good to see you’re working so hard, Alfred Paget,” she says sardonically.
Alfred opens his mouth to defend himself, but then shuts it again immediately, realising that he doesn’t really have much of a leg to stand on right now.
“If the two of you could possibly manage to stop flirting for just five minutes -”
“Excuse me, we were not flirting!” Alfred says indignantly, feeling that this at least is an unjust accusation. He can see Edward blushing again out of the corner of his eye, which really isn’t helping his case.
“Whatever,” Victoria responds with a dismissive wave of her hand, clearly uninterested in his argument. “I’ve got a code red, Alfred, so I’d appreciate it if you could tear yourself away from Edward here, handsome as he may be.”
“Code red?” Alfred echoes, frowning.
Victoria gives an exasperated sigh. Evidently, she’s not in the mood for lengthy explanations right now.
“If you were actually paying any attention at all, Alfred, you would have noticed that we’ve got a new recruit over there. Name of Florence Kerr. It’s her first day working here, she’s nervous and she’s just learning the ropes, and if you actually look, you’ll see that she’s already managed to get herself into a confrontation with the Duchess , of all people.”
Alfred looks where she’s pointing. Sure enough, there’s an unfamiliar pretty blonde woman on the other side of the cafe, looking almost as if she’s on the edge of bursting into tears. And Alfred can’t really say he blames her, given that she’s trying to deal with Mrs Grey, a regular customer at the cafe who’s such a cantankerous and domineering old battleaxe that the staff have taken to mockingly nicknaming her ‘the Duchess’ behind her back. In fact, there’s usually only two staff members who can deal with her without coming out of the confrontation in tears - Victoria and Alfred. And Victoria seems pretty busy right at the moment, unlike Alfred who is, admittedly, standing here arguing with Edward and trying to look busy.
“Seems to me like the poor girl could do with some backup right about now,” Victoria says pointedly. “That is, if you could possibly spare a moment from your very important conversation?”
“Okay, okay, I’m on it!” Alfred says hastily, as Victoria gives him a look that could kill a lesser mortal. As he hurries off to rescue the terrified new girl, he hears Edward giggling behind him, though he quickly turns it into a cough, presumably because Victoria has turned her death glare on him.
“It’s what?! ” Mrs Grey is shouting at the poor girl.
“It’s French onion soup, ma’am,” Florence Kerr replies timidly.
“ French? Well, get it away from me then, I’m not eating that!”
“But...it’s what you ordered…”
“I most certainly did not! I ordered just onion soup, good, hearty, wholesome English food! I would never have ordered anything French ! And as for this strange bread you’ve given me - ”
“It’s a baguette,” Florence whispers -
“I’m not eating that either - it’s such a peculiar shape! So take this back to the kitchen and get me some proper food at once , young lady, or else I may just have to speak to your manager!”
Florence nods, looking like she’s two seconds away from bursting into tears. Hastily, she picks the bowl and cutlery up again - but in her highly nervous state she fumbles and the bowl slips through her fingers. Luckily, Alfred dives in and catches it just in the nick of time before it goes crashing to the floor, unscathed but for a few splashes on his apron. Not bad for someone with a raging hangover , he thinks to himself smugly.
“Mr Paget, isn’t it?” the Duchess sniffs.
“Yes, that’s right, Mrs Grey. And how are you today?” he responds, flashing her a winning smile.
“Hmph. I’d be a lot better if the staff here could get my order right. I ordered onion soup, not French onion soup. I’m glad to see there’s at least one competent staff member left in this cafe, Mr Paget. Tell me,” she says, gesturing towards Florence, “why does Ms Hanover insist on hiring these new young people who clearly haven’t a clue what they’re doing?”
“I’ll have a new dish sent to you in just a flash, Mrs Grey,” Alfred responds with another smile, neatly dodging the loaded question. He shoots an apologetic sideways look at Florence Kerr and gestures for her to follow him behind the counter.
“I’m so sorry about her,” he says to Florence in an undertone as they walk away. “Don’t worry, it’s not you at all. She’s a domineering old cow to everyone; we call her the Duchess round here because she’s so convinced that she’s better than everyone else.”
Florence smiles a little, some of the tension leaving her shoulders.
“You just need to know how to handle her,” he continues, smiling at her encouragingly. “One of the things to remember is that we never tell her that it’s French onion soup. If you just announce it as onion soup, the old bat will eat it happily without a fuss. Right now, for instance, I’m going to send this bowl to the kitchen to be reheated, and then I will present it back to her as good old hearty English onion soup. She won’t notice any difference, and she knows me, so she trusts me. Well, I suppose she might trust me a little bit less once I’ve dumped some tabasco in this to give her a bit of the kick that she deserves.”
Florence laughs, and Alfred grins at her, happy to have helped her feel a bit more at ease.
“I’m Alfred Paget, by the way.”
“I’m Florence Kerr.”
“I know you are,” Alfred grins.
“How did you…? Oh,” she says, flushing slightly as he tilts his head in Victoria’s direction with a grin, the smile vanishing from her face. “I guess Victoria had to tell you that the new girl needed her mess clearing up, right? God, I can’t believe I’ve managed to look like such an idiot on my first day…”
“Hey, no, don’t be silly,” Alfred protests. “I told you, she’s like that with everyone. You didn’t do anything wrong at all.”
“You’re sure I wasn’t just being incompetent?” Florence asks in a small voice.
Alfred tilts his head slightly, studying her.
“Seriously, though - you okay?” he asks her. “I mean, you seem really nervous. I know it’s your first day working here and all, and the Duchess is a lot for anybody to be expected to handle, let alone on their first day - but is there anything else that’s worrying you?”
Florence bites her lip, looking curiously at him as though trying to figure out how genuine his concern is.
“Well, I, uh...I’m new in town, and...um...how long have you got?” she asks with a nervous laugh.
He grins with another quick glance over at Victoria.
“Well, I think Vic might kill me if I encourage you to sit down and have a heart-to-heart chat on your first day at work,” he responds, and Florence’s face falls slightly. “But I am genuinely curious, and I definitely want you to feel happy and comfortable. So how about you come over to my apartment after work today so we can have a proper chat?”
Florence beams at him, flushing in surprise as though she hadn’t expected anybody to be nice to her.
“We could get some Chinese takeaway and you could have dinner with me and my roommate, if you like? That’s him over there, by the way. Edward.”
He gestures in Edward’s direction, and grins a little as he sees Edward looking quickly back down at his laptop out of the corner of his eye, pretending he hadn’t been watching them. Florence’s eyes widen slightly as she takes him in, which doesn’t surprise Alfred; it’s a pretty common reaction from women when they catch sight of Edward for the first time.
“I...yes. I mean, thank you. I would love to hang out with you guys tonight.”
“Good. That's settled then,” Alfred responds, beaming at her. “Definitely seems like you could do with some friends right now.”
“No way! You were born here in Highbury?” Alfred asks, grinning as Edward doles out more kung pao chicken for Florence and passes her bowl back to her.
She nods, looking far more relaxed than earlier as she thanks Edward.
“Yeah, I actually went to primary school here for a few years, before my family moved to Scotland. Fast forward fifteen years and I’ve finally moved back here by myself to start studying law at uni. But I’m studying my bachelor part-time so that I can earn some income at the same time, so I just started working at the cafe. But you already know that part. Obviously.”
“I’m studying part-time at the moment too,” Alfred tells her. “I’m just finishing up my Masters in Ancient Literature. Edward here’s got a proper adult job, though, he works as a political columnist. Not that you’d know it, the amount of time he spends sitting in the cafe with his laptop,” he grins, nudging his best friend.
“I do my work there!” Edward protests, as though he’s worried Florence might get the impression that he slacks off.
“Yeah, yeah,” Alfred says, turning back to their guest. “So, you’ve moved back to Highbury all by yourself? Are you missing your family?”
“I, um...not really,” Florence responds, her smile fading. “My dad’s kind of an arsehole. He gave me a lot of anxiety issues. I couldn’t really wait to get away from him.”
“That’s rough,” Alfred commiserates, giving her a sympathetic smile. “I’m really sorry.”
“Thanks,” Florence says awkwardly.
“If it makes you feel any better, my parents aren’t exactly fabulous either,” Edward pipes up, smiling at her as well. “After I met Alfred when we started uni, his family basically adopted me and my sister Charlotte. So I know how you feel.”
“I’m glad I’m not the only one, then,” Florence replies, her face relaxing a little. “Though to be honest, it wasn’t just my dad. My ex-boyfriend was pretty crappy as well, he always used to tell me I wasn’t good enough. I think he was jealous that I got the marks to get into law and he didn’t. I could have gone to uni closer to home, but...I don’t know, I guess I just wanted to get away from them both. Anyway, here I am. Fresh start and all that.”
“Yikes. I’m so sorry, Florence. You deserve so much better than all that,” Alfred tells her, as Edward nods fervently next to him.
“Thanks,” Florence says quietly, with a small smile.
“God, straight men are just the worst , aren’t they?” Alfred continues. “Must be rough to be a straight woman sometimes.”
“Oh, I’m...I’m not actually straight,” Florence replies awkwardly. “I’m bi.”
“I...oh.” Alfred responds lamely.
Florence smiles a little.
“What? You’ve never met a bisexual person before?”
“What? Don’t be silly, of course I have!” Alfred protests. “Edward here is bi, in fact,” he says, nudging him. “Not that he’s particularly good at talking to boys or girls, but…”
Edward sticks his tongue out at him and Alfred smirks a little before turning back to Florence.
“I guess I was just a little surprised, that’s all,” he tells her hastily. “Personally, I’ve never been into girls at all - but if I was at all inclined in that direction, I’d definitely consider dating women. I mean, I adore boys, as Edward can tell you” - Edward winces slightly - “but there’s certainly a lot of shitty guys out there. Women are better, on the whole.”
“That’s true,” Florence agrees, laughing.
“Want some more wine?” Alfred asks her, lifting the bottle and gesturing towards her empty glass. “Speaking of shitty guys, I could tell you a story or two…”
After Florence has gone, thanking them profusely for inviting her and being so kind to her all the way out, Alfred shuts the door and turns to Edward, beaming in excitement.
“Well? Are you thinking what I’m thinking?”
“Yeah, she seems lovely,” Edward responds, smiling at the look on his face. “I’m glad you invited her.”
“What? No, not that! Well, yeah, I mean obviously she’s a sweetheart, but that’s not what I meant....don’t you see? I can build her self-confidence! I can adopt her! I can make her life so much better now she’s come to Highbury, I’ll make it my new project! And, best of all, I can find her the perfect new partner! That crappy ex-boyfriend of hers didn’t deserve her in the slightest - but I can find her somebody who does deserve her, who treats her right and helps her to be the amazing woman she’s destined to be!!”
Edward’s smile has faded.
“Alfred…”
“What? What ?”
“Just...be careful.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Alfred demands.
“Just that...look, I know you want her to thrive and be happy here. I do too. And she is lovely, I can see that. And I know you mean well, but maybe just...slow down. She’s nervous and vulnerable -”
“I know that, Edward, that’s why I’m going to help her!” -
“I know, Alf, but I’m trying to say that you should be careful not to get carried away, and be careful not to overwhelm her. And I don’t think you should be presuming you know what’s best for her, either.”
“Can’t you have a little more faith in me?”
Edward softens slightly.
“I do have faith in you, Alf,” he says. “You know I do. But -”
“Well then, listen to me! I told you that I was the one who brought Robert Peel and Emma Portman together. I told you I’m a great matchmaker, and I told you I was going to prove it by doing the same for someone else. Well, Florence Kerr is that person. And I am going to find her a happy ending. You’ll see.”
Edward sighs.