Christmas Promises at the Little Wedding Shop

by Jane Linfoot

  Rory laughs. ‘There’s barely an inch of face showing between the top of his scarf and his Santa hat. And that’s covered in concealer.’ He looks down at Gracie.

  ‘So how about these presents?’

  Gracie’s bottom lip wobbles. ‘P-p’raps them’s at Mummy’s house.’

  I’m about to tear into him for being mean, when he scoops her into his arms. ‘Can you hear anything, Berry Christmas?’

  Gracie gets in before me. ‘Jungle bells … I can hear jungle bells …’

  Immie arrives, beaming, Teddie on her hip, and throws down an armful of coats and boots. ‘I think they’re all here.’ As Rory lets Gracie down, Immie zips her into her anorak. ‘Come on, Hols, time to put your leopard on.’

  I pull on my hat and my wellies, and help Gracie into hers. ‘What’s going on?’

  Immie chortles. ‘This is Rory’s surprise. You can’t help but love this one.’ She points to the window. ‘Look outside, Gracie. See who’s coming.’ As she opens the door there’s a gust of icy air and the sound of bells coming closer. ‘This is going to be so ace.’

  We stumble out onto the terrace just in time to see a cart zooming towards us. As Nuttie the pony tosses his head as he trots, the bells on his harness are ringing and snow is flying up off the cart wheels. White fairy lights, winding right across the cart, are twinkling and sparkling against the snow. And sitting high on the front of the cart is …

  ‘Santa!…’ Gracie’s scream of excitement echoes across the snow. ‘It’s Feather Christmas Santa … he’s bringing my presents!’

  It’s amazing how fast kids pick up on this stuff. She’s already spotted the huge hessian sack in the back. And unlike the time I hitched a lift with Santa and his overfriendly elf, this time the presents are real.

  Rory’s busy with the disclaimers. ‘Right, Santa’s had to come on his cart, with his pony, because you’re the last person he’s visiting, and his reindeer are too tired to pull his sleigh.’ He swipes his hand across his forehead under his hat. ‘And this is for one time only. Every other Christmas, Santa will be coming when you’re asleep, okay?’

  But Gracie isn’t listening. She’s already rushing across the snow to where the cart has pulled to a halt at the edge of where the lawn should be.

  Rory hurries after her and hands her up to sit between Santa and Elf. He pushes me up onto the cart too, then springs up beside me. Somehow I can’t say anything, because when I look at Gracie’s face, literally shining with happiness, there’s this huge lump in my throat that won’t let the words out. After a huge nose blow, I manage to whisper to Rory, ‘You’ve smashed this one, Sanderson.’ I’m familiar with the routine now, so I grin at Ken and Gary. ‘Isn’t this where we all go in for a selfie with Santa?’

  Ken laughs at me. ‘Christmas Crackers, you’re right.’ He looks down his nose at me. ‘You wouldn’t have been getting one of these either, if you hadn’t chosen Rory.’ He shakes his head. ‘There’s enough sizzle between you two to cook a turkey.’ He pauses as a doubtful look passes across his face. ‘You do know he doesn’t have curtains in his bedroom?’

  I’m shaking my head in despair. ‘Yes. Immie already told me.’

  Ken’s nostrils flare. ‘You can’t pass over an Adonis like him purely for lack of soft furnishings. The fabric shop in town has a lady who’ll run up anything you want. You might as well get matching cushions and a valance too while you’re at it.’

  Sometimes it’s hard to remember – they’re like this because they care. ‘Thanks, I’ll bear that in mind, Ken. Shall we have that selfie, now?’ Although in some ways I’m grateful. Not so much for the interference. But at least it’s distracted me from my uncontrollable blubbing.

  ‘Okay, first we’ll do a circuit of the house, then the selfies.’ When Santa tells you what’s happening, you go with it.

  Everyone who can fit on clambers aboard. The air is cold against our cheeks as we fly up the drive. I’m rammed up against Rory, and with the snorting of the pony, and the flying snow, I know it’s a once in a lifetime event. Rory’s right to tell Gracie she’ll probably never get her presents personally delivered by Santa in the snow, ever again. And my heart’s bursting in my chest that Rory’s made it happen for her now.

  ‘Selfie time.’

  I should have realised, when it comes to selfies with Santa, Ken likes to call the shots. Then Rory produces a pillowcase out of his windcheater pocket, and Gracie holds it open, while Santa fills it with her presents, and I take pictures of her expression. Delighted doesn’t begin to cover it. Then, last thing, Rory produces a carrot for Gracie to feed to Nuttie. Truly, this man has every aspect covered here. Then we all clamber down again and Chas and Rafe take the rest of the presents from Santa’s sack. Then we all stand and wave as he drives away, and when his bells are just a jingle in the distance, we all walk back towards the house.

  Another selfie? I get as far as thinking this one’s what I’d like to wake up to every day on my bedside table. Then I remember that table’s three hundred miles away and my stomach wilts.

  Chapter 40

  Monday 25th December

  Christmas Day at Rose Hill Manor: Bubbly and ripping yarns

  ‘Okay, presents by the fire?’

  Back inside the house, the adoring way Rory’s looking down at Gracie would turn anyone’s toes to syrup.

  We all take up places on the sofas and watch as Rory’s meticulous wrapping is torn to shreds in seconds. It’s no time at all before Gracie and Teddie are sitting surrounded by piles of toys and what looks like the entire contents of a paper-recycling factory.

  Rory’s startled expression is priceless. ‘What happened there? Fifteen hours’ work destroyed in three minutes flat.’

  Immie laughs. ‘That’s kids and Christmas, Rory Waves. If it means we can move on to lunch, don’t knock it. And what a great idea to have Johnny, Rafe, Kip and Chas in charge in the kitchen.’

  Gracie brings me the dress I got Sera to make for her. ‘It’s an Anna dress.’ That’s Anna, the heroine of Frozen.

  ‘Would you like to put it on?’ I’m grinning at Sera, who worked so hard to make it yesterday evening. The long silky blue and purple dirndl style dress look exactly like it does on screen. ‘It’s so pretty, I think I’d like one of these too.’

  Rory laughs. ‘Wait and see what’s in your parcels, Snow Berry. There might be something in there you like even better.’

  But before we get to the adult presents, there’s the small matter of lunch, which is served at a long table in the Winter Garden, where the windows are so large, it almost feels like we’re dining outside in the snow.

  The guys have excelled themselves in the kitchen and Bart’s in charge of the wine, which changes with every course. With Brie and cranberry quiches, fried ravioli, meatballs and stuffed mushrooms, the starters are a meal in themselves. There’s pork, turkey, ham and nut roast for the main course, with all the trimmings. Buttered carrots, purple mashed potato, snap peas, stuffings, stuffing balls, sauces, Yorkshire puddings, Rafie’s roasties and lashings of gravy.

  ‘Are we eating Immie and Chas’s piggy ring bearers here?’ Rory asks. Their wedding was one of his forty, so he knows all about the runaway porkers.

  ‘Definitely not,’ Rafe laughs. ‘Everyone who comes to the farm wants to see those bad boys.’

  By the time we get to the Christmas pudding and rum sauce, with Poppy’s speciality Christmas pudding ice cream melting over it, we’re more than full. But we soldier on valiantly to tackle a cheeseboard the size of a snooker table, then move on to coffee and liqueurs, and chocolates.

  We’re sipping coffee with chocolate and praline overtones, surrounded by gilded plates of truffles when Jess looks over at me.

  ‘Well, there’s still one more teensy surprise left. Another one for you, Holly.’

  Rory sends me a grin over the top of Gracie’s head. ‘Hopefully this one’s better than the first.’

  Jess sends me a sideways glance. ‘Not m
any people would have been strong enough to refuse that ring, but whatever. I’m assured there’s a lot I’ve missed out on in Switzerland after all.’ She draws herself up in her seat. ‘This is more professional than personal. When Jules became ill, we were all aware that without a photographer, a wedding might as well not happen. Without one all our reputations would have been at risk, and without a doubt, all our businesses would have suffered. But you pulled out your cameras and stepped into the breach, Holly, and saved the day for all of us. We all know it wasn’t easy for you, but you came through amazingly. So, well, we’re all of the same opinion – you absolutely have to stay on and be part of the team.’

  Usually I’d be scarlet by this point. But I’m actually so gobsmacked, I feel as if all the blood has drained from my face. Rory saying it privately is one thing, a big announcement like this is making me feel as though my spine has been surgically removed. I’m actually sniffing into my hanky again and the fairy lights that are strung across the ceiling and along the windows are blurry through my tears.

  Jess smiles. ‘I know you’re having quite an emotional day. But to show how much we appreciate what you’ve done, we’d like to offer you the studio rent-free for a couple of years. Or as long as it takes for you to get a business going. We’d like you to install yourself there and use it. And Jules,’ She beams across at the figure who’s now added reflective sunnies to his Santa hat and scarf combo. ‘Jules will be on hand to either share, or help, or join in, in whatever way he can.’

  ‘Absolutely.’ Jules puts his thumbs up. It’s strange, but losing his fabulous complexion seems to have temporarily taken away his normal personality too.

  Jess carries on. ‘The attic flat is yours as long as you need it, too. We’re all determined to work with you to make this happen, Holly. All you have to do is say the word when you’re ready. And, unlike this morning, I’m not pressuring you for an answer. Take however long you need. But please, please, please choose Brides by the Sea. Because now you’ve given us a taste of your magic, we really can’t do without you.’

  Poppy comes over and gives me a squeeze, and Lily and Sera, then Immie, get up too. ‘Okay, group hug.’ I’m damp, and sniffy and slobbery, but the hug is so warm and long and lovely that at the end of it I feel better rather than worse.

  Okay. Well at least feeling like a wrung-out dishcloth is a great excuse to tuck into a white chocolate and raspberry truffle with my coffee.

  Rory stands up. ‘Great, thanks for that, Jess. Is this a good time to move on to the grown-ups’ presents? Shall I play Santa?’

  I see Gary lurch across the table to object. Then he remembers he left his Santa persona with his Santa suit, and sits down again.

  For someone who isn’t supposed to be participating in Christmas this year, my stack of presents is mahoosive.

  Rory leans over and picks a packet out of my pile. ‘Okay, this one first, it’s for you and Gracie to open together.’

  Gracie doesn’t mess about, but then as the paper comes off, I understand what I’m looking at and she doesn’t. ‘Oh my, how awesome. Me and Gracie got matching Wonder Woman pyjamas, from Rory.’ Yet again my voice is all high and squealy.

  Rory raises an eyebrow and laughs. ‘Glad you like them. I left the onesie in the shop in the end. But you can always have that for your birthday.’

  Poppy’s looking at me, one eye half-closed. ‘What’s that about onesies again?’

  I close my eyes and shake my head. ‘Trust me, it’s best not to know.’

  Gracie’s already onto my next present, which turns out to be a Happy Dolphin Garden Centre reindeer like the one we bought her and Teddie. I turn to Rory. ‘Bought on the same day we did the tree?’

  He’s frowning. ‘Obviously. You looked like you were about to cry when you had to leave the shop without one.’

  Immie laughs at him. ‘When you get kids of your own they’ll have you wrapped around their little finger, Rory Waves.’

  I’m kind of holding my breath waiting for his ‘no kids’ speech, but somehow it never comes.

  Then Rory opens the cashmere sweater and shirt I’ve bought him, and likes them so much he insists on putting them on. Although, I admit, having to cope with a flash of his gorgeous pecs and torso was something I’d overlooked when I chose the present. I’ve just opened some Snowberry nail varnish – just Rory’s joke, apparently – when there’s a howl from across the table.

  When we peer past the candles in mason jars and paper piles to see what all the fuss is about, the duck egg blue of the box Jess is holding looks very familiar.

  Her howl’s subsided and her voice has gone all peculiar and small. ‘Bart, you bought me Tiffany earrings? Do you know how long it is since anyone bought me jewellery?’

  Bart’s sitting next to her, looking very pleased with himself. ‘Well, the first day we met, you told me you always bought your own. But as we know, every Cornish pirate needs rings in their ears.’ He gives a sniff. ‘Well, open the box. See how you like them.’

  Jess does as she’s told, but when the box springs open, she looks puzzled. ‘But there’s only one? So it really is a pirate earring?’

  Bart gives a whoop, then his face creases up in laughter. ‘Pass it here, it’s actually upside down in the box, I’ll show you how to put it on.’

  ‘Okay.’ Jess is blinking in confusion as she passes over the box. ‘Whoever knew Tiffany did earrings for pirates. Whatever next?’

  As Bart takes out the piece, he holds it up and it flashes in the light.

  ‘Oh my.’ I’m murmuring under my breath to Rory. ‘That’s not an earring.’

  Bart looks at Jess. ‘Give me your hand.’

  ‘My what?’ Jess hesitates.

  ‘Your hand, Jess. Your left hand.’ A second later Bart’s dropped down on his knee beside her. And he’s still laughing. ‘Jess, only you could spend three solid weeks searching for an engagement ring in every chocolate fountain in Switzerland, and miss it when it finally arrives in Christmas gift wrap. That’s why I love you. That’s why I want to grow old with you. Make me the happiest man in Cornwall. Please, Jess, will you marry me?’ The next instant, he slides the ring onto her finger.

  It’s a good thing he’s not waiting for an answer, because she’s still opening and closing her mouth minutes later as she wipes her eyes on her serviette and stares down at her finger and sniffs. ‘Thank Christmas I anticipated an emotional day and put my waterproof mascara on.’ She’s almost growling at him. ‘Come here, you old pirate. Of course I’ll marry you. So long as you promise to behave, of course.’

  Bart’s laugh is very low and his eyes flash. ‘You’ll have to make me.’ He stands up and dips in for a kiss. Then he rubs his hands ‘Great work, me hearties, this calls for a toast. I’ve got the best champagne on ice. And how about elderflower fizz for the alcohol-free?’

  We all file round the table, and wow, Jess’s treasure is worth inspecting. It’s a glorious solitaire, with smaller diamonds embedded in the ring all the way around. For someone who’s always leading the way, Jess has gone remarkably quiet. But we all go in for squeezes and pecks on the cheek anyway.

  Now it’s Immie’s turn to growl. ‘I thought I’d hold out at least until the Christmas Pudding Martinis.’ She lets out a long groan. ‘Elderflower fizz or vintage champagne?’ She bites her lip. ‘Okay, Hols and Pops. It’s official! I’ve cracked. Off to the cloakrooms and give me the go-ahead. For one day only I’m back on the bevvy.’

  I pick up my bag and Poppy and I make our way out to the loo, which is so posh it has its own liquid soap dispenser.

  ‘Jeez,’ I say, as I get one of the test sticks out and dip it into Immie’s pee. ‘This toilet is bigger than my entire London flat.’

  Poppy laughs. ‘Yet another reason you should move back here. Just saying.’ She takes the box from me, reads it, then pops the stick back in the box and puts it back in my bag. ‘Early detection. That’s good. Immie only wants to know if it’s positive. It’ll be ready
in three minutes. Shall we help Bart in with the glasses while it’s cooking?’

  We’re so busy delivering ice buckets and dodging popping corks, by the time I creep into my seat and get to peep at the stick in the bag, most people are sitting with full glasses in their hands.

  ‘What are you doing, Berry?’ Rory’s looking at me over Gracie’s head again.

  I’m peering at the stick, looking for the line in the little perspex windows. When I see which window the line is in, I don’t know what to do. ‘Pops, quick, can you come here a minute?’ She diverts from where she’s walking back to her seat. ‘Can you look at this?’

  Her face comes over my shoulder. ‘Oh shit.’ She’s looking at me with wide eyes. ‘Do you think it’s real?’

  We’re agonising. When we said we’d do this we assumed it would be negative. Staring at a test stick that says positive, how do we break it to Chas and Immie? We don’t want to get their hopes up if it’s wrong.

  ‘Immie …’ As I call her she’s waving her champagne. ‘We’ve got a bit of a situation with the stick. You might need to come over for a look.’

  As her chair scrapes back, she passes Teddie over to Morgan, who’s sitting next to her, then she bustles over. ‘Don’t tell me another one of those toad-arse tests hasn’t worked. Where the hell will that leave me?’

  I’m trying to put her right. ‘No, there’s definitely a line.’

  Immie’s voice is a whisper as she squints at the stick I’m holding. ‘Ass hats, badger bottoms and toad bollocks.’ As her fist goes to her mouth, tears begin spurting out of her eyes. ‘Chas … Chas … I’m not sure … but I think we might be …’

  Chas ambles over frowning, looking especially snazzy in his I’m having a meltdown fleece with the picture of a collapsing snowman. It takes Immie a while to make him understand, because her voice has disappeared and there are rivers of tears flooding down her cheeks. But when he does finally get what’s happened, he sweeps her into his arms.