by Lucy Coleman
There’s a tapping sound and as I glance up, Patrick peers around the side of the door to my office. ‘I’m glad I caught you. How’s Tollie doing?’
‘Good, thank you. I’ve only seen him twice since his operation, but he’s moving around. It’s too soon to say whether it has been successful, but the worst is over and each day should get a little easier.’
‘I thought you’d be taking some time off work,’ Patrick remarks.
‘No. He has a live-in nurse.’ Which I suppose is true… ‘How are things with you?’
Patrick steps further inside. ‘The contracts for the sale of the house have finally been exchanged and I had no option but to agree to a two-week completion. It’s a total nightmare, to be honest.’
‘Sorry to hear that, Patrick. Do you have anywhere lined up?’
‘Not at present. I’m with a couple of rental agencies but the properties coming up aren’t suitable. It’s mostly one-bedroom flats, or three-bed houses. Still, I’ll keep looking.’
‘Um… I might know of a place if you’re really stuck. It would mean renting it on a monthly basis, as it’s only for a short term, possibly up to Christmas at the latest. Shall I enquire on your behalf?’
‘Is it around here?’
‘Yes. On the doorstep.’
‘Then please do. I’m grateful for any leads I can get.’
‘Leave it with me and I’ll give you a call as soon as I can.’ He’s definitely looking a lot happier now things are moving forward and it’s good to hear that he’s being proactive and not burying his head in the sand.
‘Magic. And the funds are rolling in. It’s going to be a great summer, Immi.’ The optimism in his voice is good to hear.
‘Wonderful. That’s music to my ears, Patrick!’
I immediately pick up the phone once Patrick has left, eager to strike while the iron is hot. ‘Quick question, Fisher, can you talk?’
‘Yep. I’m in the boatyard. What’s up?’
‘You know Val has been stressing about Ziggy, ever since she moved out of Byre Cottage, well, I was wondering if a live-in cat-sitter might be the answer. Someone who works from home most of the time and is looking for a short-term let? What do you think? It can’t be easy for Val popping in first thing and at lunchtime to sort Ziggy out and relying upon a neighbour to feed her last thing at night.’
‘Hmm. That’s a thought. If it weren’t for the dogs next door, Val could bring her here. But Ziggy is a bit of a princess, isn’t she?’ Fisher laughs because we all know it’s true.
‘Well, Patrick has to vacate his property in two weeks’ time, and he hasn’t found anything suitable to rent yet. It could solve a problem if Val would consider renting it to him a month at a time. Is it worth mentioning it to her?’
Now he’s chuckling. ‘You don’t think she’ll last the course with me until Christmas? I’m not that bad to live with,’ he says emphatically.
‘I wasn’t trying to imply anything at all. I just thought it would ease her mind to know someone was there every night. Not just for Ziggy, but to look after Byre Cottage.’
‘Okay. It’s just Patrick, is it?’
‘Yes, and I think he’d jump at it, to be honest with you. He’s fitted in here so well already and he’d be able to walk home after our committee meetings.’
‘And from The Bullrush,’ Fisher jokes. ‘Leave it with me and I’ll get Val to think it over and give you a call back. Thanks, Immi.’
There’s a pause. ‘How… how’s it going?’ I ask tentatively.
‘Aside from missing Ziggy, it’s working out just fine. We take it in turns cooking. And this weekend we’re taking The Star Gazer for a trip up to Wennington Lock tea gardens. I thought Val might enjoy a good, old-fashioned cream tea.’
I’m glad he can’t see me screwing up my face. ‘Oh, lovely. That sounds… perfect.’
‘Yes, I’m really looking forward to it. Enjoy the rest of your day, Immi.’
Poor Fisher. That might not be the best surprise for someone who gets queasy at the slightest movement when they’re not on dry land. Obviously, Val has skated over her little issue, but I guess she’s right – Fisher’s just going to have to find out for himself.
October
20
Soggy Umbrellas
After an exceptionally mild September, with a long run of unbelievably sunny days, October arrives with a marked downturn in the weather. After I’ve spent weeks watering the turf, it’s now in danger of becoming waterlogged.
‘That’s a long face,’ Gray whispers into my ear as he sidles up alongside me.
‘Look at that sky again. We’re moving the plants out of the polytunnels today and so it will be all hands on deck. We’re going to get soaked, so I’d better take a change of clothes with me. I have a stack of paperwork to get through this afternoon and I don’t intend sitting there feeling damp and miserable.’
‘The weather might cheer up a little as the morning goes on,’ Gray points out hopefully. ‘Will you be home for lunch?’
‘Sorry. I’ll be grabbing a sandwich to eat at my desk. Don’t forget that I’m up at the Linden tonight to do the talk after the fundraising dinner.’
‘I thought you were going to ask Tollie if he wanted to do it, given that Fisher can’t make it,’ Gray reminds me.
Avoiding his gaze, I pull on my coat. ‘It’s okay, I don’t mind.’
‘You haven’t even asked him, have you? This is getting silly, Immi.’
‘I can’t exactly text or call him out of the blue to ask a favour, can I? And whenever I pop over it’s so awkward face to face. There’s no chance for the two of us to sit down together and talk like we used to do. With Daphne constantly hovering, he’s as subdued as I am. If Tollie wasn’t happy with the way things are now, then he’d soon say something, wouldn’t he?’
‘Of course he would. But in the meantime, you’re just going to let this fiasco continue, which means he’s going to assume that you don’t think he’s up to it.’
‘That’s not true. He’s almost back to his old self and, I will admit, he seems happy enough. Perhaps this is the new norm for us and I have no choice other than to accept that’s the case. Isn’t that what you suggested?’ I know I’m putting it rather bluntly, but I’m simply paraphrasing what Gray said. However, my feelings are still hurt and I’m not going to hide that fact.
‘Well, let’s hope that when we start getting around the table to plan this year’s Santa Ahoy cruises things will get a little easier.’
That’s tantamount to Gray admitting that Daphne’s presence is increasingly becoming a real issue and it isn’t just my imagination.
‘Right, I must go,’ I reply, nipping this conversation in the bud. ‘What’s on your agenda, today?’
Gray gives me one of his wicked smiles, his eyes shining. ‘Today is all about the chocolate. They’re rebranding an old favourite of mine and I need to write a jingle to match the new image. I’m lucky to get this job as they want to steer clear of the trend to align themselves with current popular music. Think of a less sensual version of the old crumbly and flaky ad.’
I raise my eyebrows in surprise. ‘Good luck with that, then.’ Standing on tiptoe, I plant a kiss on his forehead and work my way down to his mouth. ‘If anyone can pull it off, it’s you.’
Poor Gray. His next big project has been delayed yet again and he’s taking whatever work he can in the meantime. That wonderful little windfall of a bonus he received covered the cost of two new pieces of electronic kit to allow him to turn the spare bedroom into his studio. The rest is helping to repay our overdraft, but it won’t last forever. At least he’s at home every night, which is a big positive and to me it’s worth more than money in the bank.
Trudging along the towpath trying to keep the umbrella from blowing inside-out isn’t easy. Keeping my waterproofs at work probably wasn’t the best idea, but I have a backpack with a spare set of work cargo trousers and a sweatshirt. I’ve always enjoyed getting my han
ds dirty and some of my fondest memories are when I worked at the nurseries every Saturday, potting on the seedlings and deadheading the plants. While I’m grumbling about the weather, I know we’re going to have a lot of fun getting hands-on this morning and it will be an enjoyable couple of hours.
‘Hey, Immi. It’s a real battle against this wind, isn’t it?’ Patrick calls out as I draw level with the footbridge. Hiding behind the umbrella for cover, I didn’t know he was standing there waiting for me.
‘It’s slow going, that’s for sure. I keep thinking my umbrella is about to be tugged out of my hands. I didn’t know you were in the office today,’ I say, having to raise my voice to be heard.
He turns to mount the steps and I follow behind him until we are on the bridge itself and then we walk side by side, wavering at times as the crosswind hits us in an intermittent blast.
‘Martin and I are updating the business plan today. It will take a couple of hours, at most. Ziggy gets spooked when it’s windy and so I left her hiding under the bed.’
‘Ah, poor thing. She’s really taken to you, which I know is such a comfort to Val.’
I can’t see Patrick’s face, but I know he’s enjoying having Ziggy around too.
The canal is quiet today and I notice that the roller doors are still shut on all but one of the units in the boatyard. I’m not looking forward to going out if it’s like this tonight, but someone has to do it.
‘How did it go at the Linden Hotel last night?’ Sarah asks as we pile into Ursula’s hallway, having left our soggy umbrellas in the porch. Tonight, we’re trying on our dresses for the first time and I’m nervous about it.
‘It was a wonderful dinner but I do hope they broke even, as the five-course meal was amazing by the looks of it. Everyone was impressed when they saw the artist’s impressions of the playground. It raised ten pounds per head for the fund, and the fifty tickets sold simply by word of mouth apparently. And for the last month they’ve offered diners the option of adding a donation when they get out their credit card to pay their bill. In total, Harrison says it will probably amount to a figure in excess of seven hundred pounds once it’s all tallied up.’
‘That’s great news. A few more events like that wouldn’t go amiss,’ Sarah adds as she follows Ursula through into the sitting room. ‘Coffee mornings are fine, but it takes an awful lot of them to raise that sort of money.’
‘Hi, ladies,’ Martin says, immediately getting up off the sofa. ‘I’ll put the kettle on and leave you to it.’ He stops to give Ursula a quick kiss on the cheek. ‘The kids are asleep. Coffee?’ We all nod gratefully. My fingers are cold, even though my body is still glowing from the yoga class.
‘Tonight’s the night, then,’ he says, looking in my direction.
‘Yes, it is,’ I reply, trying not to sound excited, or unduly anxious.
‘Right, let me take your coats. Who is going first?’ Ursula asks. I look directly at Sarah, who is more than happy to volunteer.
‘I’ve been looking forward to this all day,’ she admits.
‘Follow me, then, Sarah. I’ll hang these up on the way to my workroom.’
To pass the time I go in search of Martin. ‘I bumped into Patrick yesterday morning. He said you were updating the business plan. How did it go?’
Martin continues scooping coffee granules into the mug. ‘Fine. The cash isn’t rolling in quite as quickly as I’d like, but we’re marching ahead. Thanks for your help yesterday morning. It was such a miserable day and I felt bad not being able to get out and help.’
‘Oh, it was fine. We had a few laughs. With the new greenhouse and those polytunnels, which were a brilliant idea of Patrick’s, we’ve got so much more retail space.’
‘Yes, he’s on the ball, is Patrick. It’s going to be a bumper Christmas and once the playground is open that’s going to draw even more families here. Aysbury is really putting its name on the map. I had a pint with Fisher the other night and he said he’s thinking of running some evening trips along the canal in the run-up to the festive period.’
‘Really? He hasn’t said anything to me.’ Goodness, I wonder what Val will think of that.
‘Here you go. I’d best leave the other two mugs here if they’re in the fitting room,’ Martin says, throwing me a wink. ‘It’s time I made myself scarce. I’m off to watch an episode of Dragon’s Den. Perhaps I should consider taking part and try to get a dragon or two onboard.’ He laughs.
‘Aysbury first, then watch out UK,’ I say, laughing.
‘Okay, time for the big reveal,’ Ursula calls out. Martin hands me a tray and I place all three mugs on it before we head in opposite directions.
‘Good luck.’
‘Thanks,’ I mutter. ‘I’m going to need it.’
As I edge through the partially opened door to the garage conversion, which is Ursula’s workroom, I see Sarah is standing in front of a full-length mirror. She looks stunning as she turns around to face me. The silver-grey chiffon material has a slight shimmer to it. Falling to just below her knee, the A-line dress has two ruched panels at the top, which cross over, hugging her torso, and below that the skirt hangs down over her hips in gentle folds.
‘Isn’t it gorgeous? And I love these little pleats in the front. I’ll be able to eat whatever I want and not worry if I bloat up!’ Sarah exclaims, her face beaming.
‘I love the sheer illusion of the capped sleeves and the way it carries on across the neckline. You’ve done an amazing job, Ursula.’ I watch as Sarah turns back around quite nimbly on the balls of her feet, the fabric gently swishing around her legs. How I wish I could emulate the confidence and gracefulness that Sarah embodies.
‘Well, I can’t ask for a better reaction than that,’ Ursula replies happily. ‘I will need to adjust that neckline a little, but I’ll leave that until the second fitting, a month before the wedding.’
‘Oh, don’t worry – I’ll be jumping on the scales regularly to check I don’t put on, or lose, any weight. It’s only eleven weeks to go now.’
A chill runs down my spine. Eleven weeks to the wedding and just over twelve weeks in which to make sure there’s enough in the kitty to pay the final invoice for the playground. I hope everything comes together at the right time.
‘Your turn next,’ Ursula says brightly. ‘Then I have some gorgeous fabric samples to show you. It will be freezing, and you are going to need a jacket, or a warm wrap at the very least. We can’t have you catching cold while you’re posing for photos alongside the canal, can we?’
‘We should talk about hairstyles, too,’ Sarah chips in. ‘You said you didn’t want a veil, Immi, but most brides wear something in their hair.’
They both look at me expectantly. How I wish my enthusiasm were on a par with that of my two friends. They’re having fun and excited about looking through yet another round of pictures of gorgeous models looking impossibly glam, for ideas. My dress is going to be fabulous – I know it is – but the question is whether I can carry it off on the day, or will I end up feeling that I’m trying to be someone I’m not?
When I park up I’m surprised to see the cottage is in total darkness. As if by magic, as I approach the light goes on in the sitting area and I walk up to the glass doors, to peer inside. Gray walks over to let me in, smiling. ‘I didn’t think anyone was home,’ I comment as I step through the door.
‘And where else would I be at this time of night?’ Gray looks at me askance as he throws a hand towel down onto the floor. ‘We must get a mat if you insist on not using the front door when you’re dripping all over the place.’
My eyes travel over his face and his hair looks damp. ‘Were you in the shower?’
‘Yes, that’s why the light wasn’t on. Anyway, how did it go?’
‘Yoga was fine. And the dress is lovely.’
He looks at me, his face falling. ‘You aren’t pleased?’
‘No. It really is lovely. I just don’t feel lovely in it.’ I groan, feeling bad.
&n
bsp; ‘What did Ursula and Sarah say?’
‘Oh, they adored it. It’s not the dress, it’s me. I was just a bit hot and my hair is a mess as the rain makes it frizzy.’
Gray steps forward, wrapping his arms around me.
‘Look, Immi, it’s important you feel comfortable. This is about what will make you happy on the day.’
‘It’ll be fine. It’s just that… well, the constant rain is getting me down. There’s only eleven weeks to go and decisions still need to be made about the jackets Sarah and I are going to wear, and I haven’t even given any thought to our hair. We spent ages looking at magazines tonight. It’s one decision after another and what looks good on a model won’t necessarily look good on me!’ My exasperation is impossible to hide.
‘Hey.’ He pulls me even closer to him. ‘You have two choices. Either sit down and just choose something, or let Sarah and Ursula guide you. There is no wrong decision here because it’s all about you. So what if in years to come you look back and say, “Did I really wear a tiara?” It doesn’t matter. I’m not making light of what you’re going through, but we’re tying the knot and that’s the important bit.’
‘I know. But people come to a wedding with expectations and I don’t want to let you down.’
Gray sighs. ‘Oh, Immi, like that’s going to happen. Whatever you wear, to me you are going to look gorgeous. If you don’t feel comfortable in the dress, then I’m sure Ursula will understand. Just be honest with her.’
‘But she’s giving her precious time for free, Gray. And the cost of that and the fabric would be wasted. No, I’m being ridiculous and you’re right. Neither Sarah, nor Ursula, are going to steer me wrong and it’s silly to get this upset over a blooming dress.’
‘I do believe they call it a wedding gown,’ he prompts, making me laugh.