Hello

( sorry ladies, wedding pic temporarily removed in the light of recent threats from stalker)

Hello, I am back after getting married, dealing with the media storm in the aftermath of the Crevice trial, campaigning for an independent inquiry into 7/7 and yes, finally, being on honeymoon.

We went to the Turtle Nest Inn in Grand Cayman, discovered by googling to be ranked in the top 3 hidden gems of the world by two independent traveller websites. It comes massively recommended by me and J ( especially now the US dollar is so cheap!) We had a wonderfully spacious, well-equipped condo on the beach, we snorkled several times a day and saw huge parrot fish, trigger fish, eagle rays, Southern sting rays, wrasse, grouper, lobsters and five feet barracudas and bone fish. We bought ourselves food locally and cooked in the apartment, mostly, read lots of books and got disgustingly brown. The highlight of the holiday was a trip to Stingray city, when you can snorkel with dozens of extremely friendly Southern stingrays, an experience voted the best snorkelling trip in the world - well, it certainly ranked as my best swim ever!

Married life agrees with me and J and I are immensely happy. Thank you so much for all the wonderful cards, presents, emails and texts. I am slowly replying and apologies if you have not heard back from us yet. Now that I am back, I am up to my ears in commitments (and on deadlines galore), but I am going to blog for a bit for the next hour as there's quite a lot going on that I want to write about!...

Maintenance

I am realising that I am a very low-maintenance woman who has suddenly got to become a very high-maintenance woman on account of TBWW ( The Big White Wedding). I have tried to avoid becoming what is colloquially known as a ''Bride-Zilla'' ( see pic) and going bonkers spending money hand-over-fist on all the wedding-related tomfoolery that zillions of websites, shops and magazines are keen to sell the sweating bride-to-be. You say 'wedding' and the price usually doubles. When I went with my friend Jeanette to get a cake for her wedding, we went into the shop and asked for 'a cake'. Then 'a cake for a wedding'. The price was 40% higher. The next day we went back and there was a different person behind the till.

I said we wanted a wedding cake and as she reached for the Special Supersonic Wedding Prices brochure and as Jeanette rolled her eyes, and hissed at me, I jumped in quickly.

''A wedding cake for a conference'' I said.

''A conference?'' she asked, looking puzzled.

''It's um, a conference of wedding organisers, to, um, discuss weddings.'' I said, improvising hastily, ''and we will be discussing how much the mark-up is on things that are sold as being wedding-related, and sharing our in-depth knowledge of how much things like wedding cakes should really cost, because of course, we all know the truth. Of course, we're happy to recommend suppliers who don't charge mad prices, because it really puts brides off if they know they're being ripped off...''

''Well, of course we'd be happy to charge you a price for a normal cake'', she said.

''Marvellous. Thanks for that''

It does make me wild.

I have not bought a single bridal magazine, visited a single bridal shop and only registered on a bridal website so I could use their handy budget planner as my excel spreadsheet skills are ropey (I always used to get my assistant to do excel sheets for me at work, it was our guilty secret. He could do formulas and colours and everything, I used to flap admiringly and bring him coffee).

However, as TBWW is only weeks away, the pressure is suddenly on, and now I have finally been able to jettison tiresome things that were taking up too much head space and slowing me down, I am faced with a bewildering array of instructions relating to Essential Grooming Tips that I must faithfully follow in order to Make The Most of My Big Special Daaaaaaaaaay, Or Else.

I cannot believe that people write such things, in apparent seriousness as '' Beauty: Your 12 Month Plan'' that suggest meeting your hairdresser, colourist, stylist, dentist, beautician, masseuse, pedicurist, manicurist, acupuncturist, spiritual healer, herbalist, doctor, waxer, colour consultant, chakra-rebalancer, eye-brow-shaper and probably gynecologist ( 'for assured honeymoon freshness!') a whole flipping YEAR before you walk down the aisle!

Not to mention florist, photographer, organist, caterer, wedding invite designer ( actually, all those are quite sensible and I have done them).

Then there's wedding shops that sell frocks and stuff. They are all By Appointment Only. Which is an excuse to be pinned down and scolded and sold to. I haven't dared go in. It will be only too obvious to the scary matrons within that I have failed, my nails have failed, my hair has failed and I am Just. Not. Taking. Grooming. Seriously. Enough.

I have instead gone to Anna Maria D'Amato, a genius corsetiere and dress deigner in Enfield who is rustling me up the dress of my dreams to my own design in ivory silk with a corset that is not only comfortable but cinches my waist in to Jayne Mansfield proportions. After the wedding I will dye it black or midnight blue and vamp about in it at every opportunity.

As to veiled threats: I am scared of veils and will only trip over it or get the damn thing caught in my lipgloss or something, so I will just content myself with some silk roses in my hair.

However, the TBWW approaches and so I am going to have to book a flurry of appointments and hand myself over to be scraped and plucked and dyed and filed and painted and primped and snipped and poked over until I pass muster.

At the very least, I had better go and get a hair cut, fast.

Some people do this grooming stuff all the time. I have a new respect for them. I like to be clean and to smell nice and wear pretty jewellery and clothes that fit me, skirts that swirl and swish when I dance, but being a Perfectly Groomed Woman strikes me as being a bit like a farmer: a back-breaking round of cultivating and harvesting and cropping and feeding and chemicals and unguents, and it seems to involve getting up early, and thus I fear it is not for me, Bridezilla or not.

Weddingery, at long last

Just back from Norwich, where I was visiting my parents, and where I had a busy 24 hours of rushing about doing essential wedding things, so I didn't spend as much time with them as I would have liked. Will be visiting again soon, once this next mad week is out of the way, and I can take a breather.

My soon-coming wedding to the love of my life has unfortunately been placed way down on the list of priorities compared to all the other stuff - book editing deadline, 7/7 inquiry campaigning, and another another tiresome, distasteful but unavoidable matter - and I wonder how I ended up with not one, but four massive, stressful things going on in my life all at the same time.

Still, it's finally happening, I really am going to walk down the aisle and say 'I will' to my beloved. I have my dress fitting tomorow; today I chased about like a mad thing, and saw the florist to organise bouquets and buttonholes, had a make-up practice (which was fab: the first time in a week I was able to relax and think properly whilst a nice girl dabbed at my face with tiny brushes in a calming manner. Dreaming with my eyes open, of sweet times to come.

I immediately booked her for mum and my sister too. We will all need a moment of zen before the wedding service and reception.)

And this morning I had a two-hour walk-through in the awe-inspiring venue where the wedding will be held, with my parents and with the vergers who were all very helpful, showing us where to stand, where to sit, where the choir girls will sing...

My mother and I made designs for the three-tier (M&S) fruitcake, we are going to cover it with Stargazer lillies, and rose petals. And two Grand Prix deep wine-red velvety roses on top, one for me, one for J, to match my beautiful bouquet. The pale gold champagne sits in boxes in my parents' larder, waiting. I feel like a cork, about to pop sometimes, myself.

Tomorrow I have to work flat out all day, go through the final edit of the book which is just getting a light syntax/spelling check - but of course I keep thinking of better phrases and wanting to tinker with it - I must be careful not to drive my editor mad, and am being very strict with myself and not faffing, just correcting. I have only read the whole thing through once, I couldn't bear to look at it after I had finished - but now I am coming back to it with fresher eyes, a bit disbelieving, a bit apprehensive. It will be out at the end of July, on the 24th.

(You can pre-order it on Amazon and read about it here. Eek!Friday Books are publishing it and Pan MacMillan distributing it.)

So many of our friends have sent cards to my mother accepting the wedding invitation... I got a bit weepy when I read them all, all those people wishing us joy and luck and happiness. Things have changed so much for me in the last two years - from the long dark days when I really did despair, when I did not think I would be able to keep from going under, to now, the spring days of hope and the promise of joy that is just around the corner. All the lovelier for being hoped for, for so long, but not quite believed in, however much I wished, and crossed my fingers.

Not quite real. Until now.

I promised I wouldn't be too bridezilla- ish on this blog and drive everyone mad. But it's the weekend, so I hope you will forgive a small skip of happiness and here's a kiss blown to you all, from an excited soon-to-be wife in North London.