Summer at the Little Wedding Shop

by Jane Linfoot

  His voice is low and husky as his face comes towards mine. ‘Do you realise I’ve spent the entire day wanting to grab you.’

  My eyes are closing and I’m tilting my face upwards, when a huge clatter makes us jolt. Then freeze. As we spin round, the open doorway behind us lights up.

  Kip purses his lips as I gasp. As we creep forwards my heart is bouncing off my chest wall, and not in the good way it was five seconds ago. As we peer into the room, there’s enough light to make out a bed.

  There’s a growl as the cover shifts. ‘Bastard barnacles, what the frigate are you doing in our cabin?’

  Kip lets out an astonished whoop as a weathered face pops up. ‘Bart?’

  And as a tousled head comes into view beside him there’s another squawk. ‘Lily? Is that you?’

  My gulp is so huge, I almost inhale the eiderdown. It takes me a second to respond. ‘Jess?’

  Kip’s laughing. ‘What the hell are you two doing here of all places?’

  Bart grunts. ‘I’d have thought that was obvious.’

  Kip’s shaking his head and grinning. ‘What, sex on the beach? Again?’

  Bart gives a snort of protest. ‘We’re hiding from the revellers. There’s only so many Bay City Rollers songs a man can take.’

  The surprise seems to be the location, not his choice of bed partner. I have to ask, if only because I’m so far behind. ‘Are you on board with this, Jess?’ Last time I heard she hated Bart.

  As Jess yanks the covers up to her chin she recovers her decorum. ‘Don’t worry, it’s all in the plan, Lily.’ She shoots me a wink. ‘I’m taking one for the team here. Remember that?’

  My gaping mouth is stretching into a grin the width of St Aidan Bay. ‘Nice work, Jess.’ We never did know the details. But whatever the reasoning behind her about-turn, she sounds like she’s having a great time.

  ‘Well, sorry for disturbing your island idyll, guys.’ This is Kip, finally sounding repentant. ‘We won’t tell a soul, will we, Lily?’ He gives me a jab in the ribs.

  I get the picture. ‘Absolutely not.’

  There’s a creak from the bed as Bart shifts on the pillows. ‘No worries. As of tomorrow, there’s no more skulking around. We’ve decided to go public. Haven’t we Jess?’ He gives her the same kind of poke Kip just gave me.

  Jess raises an eyebrow. ‘If you say so.’

  ‘Congratulations! High fives to that.’ Kip dives back out of the door, and comes back with the bottle and glasses. ‘In which case we’ll leave the champers with you.’

  It’s only as Kip and I are blowing out the lights on the jetty as we leave that we notice their boat pulled up a lot further along the beach. If they hadn’t got here first, I can’t help thinking it might have been us in that bed. But somehow the moment’s gone.

  ‘I did not see that coming,’ I say. As we hurry into our boat, the wind is chillier, and there are clouds scudding across the moon.

  ‘They were teenage sweethearts. It’s the worst kind of unfinished business.’ Kip wrinkles his nose. He begins to row, and with his long swift strokes, and a following wind, we cross the water in no time.

  ‘How about watching the sunrise from this side?’ As he ties up the boat against the jetty, and yanks me ashore with one easy pull, there’s drizzle in the air.

  I open my mouth to reply, but a beep comes from Kip’s pocket.

  He gives a rueful grin as he pulls out the pager. ‘Whose idea was this? Damn, it’s urgent.’

  I throw down my shoes, wriggle my feet into them. By the time I’ve done up my bows the raindrops are getting bigger. ‘In that case, Kipling, it’s “laters”.’ I reach up on tip toe, and as I drop a kiss on his cheek my mouth waters. ‘Thanks for a wonderful day.’

  And a second later, despite my four and a half inch heels, I’m running towards the house.

  Chapter 48

  Sunday, 17th September

  At Rose Hill Manor: Here and there, home and away

  ‘Who turned the tap on?’ I’m groaning, and looking at the sky as the first massive raindrops fall.

  It’s mid afternoon next day by the time all the guests have left. As my mum and David finally get to leave the Manor themselves, they’ve already made approximately a million trips back and forth to Heavenly Heights ferrying suitcases, dress covers, flowers, the cake, and all their presents. After a wet night, the sun broke through again at breakfast. But as they run to get in the car for the last time, the clouds turn smoky grey, and within seconds the rain is hammering and bouncing up off the gravel.

  ‘Just a second, dahling.’ My mum hurries into the passenger seat, and as David winds down her window, she flips down the sun visor for running repairs to her make up.

  ‘Excuse me, I am getting soaked here.’ Just saying. I’d expected a flash over of Chanel Mighty, not a full facial.

  ‘All done.’ She beams. ‘Ready for one last selfie of the three of us?’

  I lean backwards through the car window, and make a ‘hang loose’ sign behind our heads as she holds out her phone.

  ‘Cheese everyone.’ She shouts. And then it really is over.

  ‘Umbrella coming.’ It’s Kip. He pulls me in beside him under a big brolly from the office, but as we stand grinning in at the car window I’m already dripping.

  ‘Thank you both. For everything.’ My mum’s voice is breaking, and there’s a clash of hands and faces as we do our last goodbye touches.

  Eventually I step back, dragging Kip with me. ‘Right. I’ll see you up at yours very soon.’ Given it’ll probably be all of half an hour before I arrive with even more flowers, we might be going over-board on the goodbyes. I stand flapping both my hands like mad as the tyres scrunch on the gravel. They do a circuit of the car park, and it’s only as they pick up speed and come around for a second time that I catch a blur of colour at my mum’s open window. A nano second later, a missile is flying through the air towards us, and suddenly Kip and I are both clamping my mum’s posy to my chest.

  ‘Jeez.’ As I untangle the ribbons from my fingers, and rearrange the crumpled petals, I can still hear my mum’s laugh echoing along the drive.

  Kip gives a low cough as he extracts his hand. ‘Sorry for the grope. Most inappropriate. ’

  ‘Any time,’ I say. Then kick myself for the slip and smile very brightly to cover it up. ‘No worries.’

  ‘Catching two bouquets in a row,’ he says. ‘There has to be a subliminal message in there somewhere.’ With that deadpan expression he has to be teasing.

  I ignore him, and move on swiftly. ‘So that’s that then.’ My mum’s was the last of this season’s weddings. So unless there are some late Christmas bookings, we’re done here for a while.

  Kip blows out his cheeks. ‘Not quite. There’s one thing more. In the ballroom.’

  ‘And?’ It’s empty, and as we arrive, I’m mainly checking to see my soaked shirt has only gone blotchy, and not completely see through.

  He sighs. ‘I just wanted to dance with you now everyone’s gone. That’s all.’

  I close my eyes and swallow. Try to find a reason not to have his hand on my waist, and my eyes locked on his throat. I was hoping that the Prosecco goggles would have worn off this morning, but if anything they’ve got worse. There’s something insanely sexy about Kip, even the pale and wrecked version.

  ‘Okay.’ My eyes are as wide as his because I gave in so easily. But sometimes the fastest way is to get things over. Resisting could take forever. A dance will take no time. Four short minutes, and I’ll be free to get back to my life again.

  He walks across to the music decks. ‘So that idea you had … your vision for taking the Manor up-market … we’re going to run with it … go for six mega exclusive weddings a year.’

  ‘Brilliant.’ Mentally I’m punching the air. I can’t wait to see Poppy’s face when I tell her. I’m bouncing already. ‘And what are we dancing to?’ I’m bracing my ear drums for an assault from The Foo Fighters, or Motorhead.

&nbs
p; ‘I was going to go for Somewhere only we know, then I remembered this.’ As he flicks on the music a laid back guitar twangs across the ballroom.

  A smile creeps across my face. ‘Say Hello and Wave Goodbye? Good choice.’ I love this song.

  He shrugs as he walks towards me. ‘I’ve heard you play it sometimes roaring up the drive. It’s kind of fitting. And the best thing is, it’s nine minutes long.’

  In an effort to stay in control, I hold up my hands and look businesslike. ‘So what kind of dance? A two step? Or we could try some Salsa moves?’ Both ridiculous given the tempo, but whatever.

  He takes my fingers, then slides his hands around my back. ‘Let’s keep it simple.’ As he draws me against his body we begin to sway.

  As dances go, we’re practically stationary. But I shake back my damp hair, and close my eyes. As our bodies fuse into a single plank of warmth, I breathe him in. The feel of him is all the sweeter for having waited. If this is delayed gratification, I’m happy to take it. His hands glancing across the skin where my top ends are light, and deliciously tingly. Shiveringly unfamiliar, for someone I know so well. And as the muscles of his back are flexing under my fingertips, I’m loving the strength of him. I could so easily take this man to bed, and tear off his clothes, and have achingly amazing sex with him. Not something I’d imagined I’d ever do again. Not that we’re going to. But after so long, that one simple thought sets me free for the rest of my life. Not that Kip will feel the same, given his aversion for getting close to anyone. But dancing has to mean something. As for the hormone rush telling me to forget bed, and jump him here and now, against the wall, I need to shut that down right now.

  I yank my mind to a cleaner place. ‘Six weddings a year. So how will that work?’

  Kip’s voice resonates close to my ear. ‘Better for Bart and Jess, now he’s moving back to the Manor full time.’

  Crikey. ‘Permanently? As in three six five?’ The way I’m hearing their names together, it’s like they’re already a well-established couple. ‘Whatever happened to transatlantic commuting?’

  Kip pulls down the corners of his mouth. ‘The power of love and all that. I guess he’s smitten with Jess, and she’s based very firmly here. Bart’s been on his own for a long time, so if he’s got a chance to be happy he deserves to grab it.’

  Was this what Jess meant by her top secret plan? Who’d have thought Bart would ever find a reason to settle down. In Rose Hill of all places.

  ‘So remind me why we’re dancing?’ At two in the afternoon, it’s a bit random, even for Kip. And maybe there’s a tiny part of me hoping I’ll draw him off the fence about where he stands with me.

  His sigh is almost a whisper. ‘It could be our last chance.’

  My insides drop faster than the lift in the Empire State building. Whatever answer I was expecting, it wasn’t that. ‘So where exactly do you fit into the new-look Rose Hill Manor?’

  Kip gives a snort. ‘I won’t be sticking round playing gooseberry if that’s what you mean.’ His laugh is almost bitter. ‘Bart has work for me in St Kitts. So that’s where I’ll be heading.’

  My voice almost disappears. ‘The Caribbean?’ That’s seriously far away. My stomach feels like a banana that’s been stamped on. ‘And the garden?’ I’m guessing that’s our flower growing out the window.

  ‘You’ll still be able to use the garden. But I won’t be here to help.’ Kip’s pulling his fingers through the damp strands of my hair. ‘I’m so sorry. This wasn’t how it was meant to be. Bart only fully decided this morning. It’s unexpected for all of us, but the Manor is his home. I was damn lucky to get to use it when I did.’

  I drag in a breath. ‘It’s weird how love turns life upside down.’ It did for my mum, and now it has for Kip. I’m also thinking about how much I’ve come to depend on everything at the Manor being the way it is. And how shattered I’ll be if Kip’s not here, hanging around the office. Messing around at his swing ball, with his torn jeans and his awful music.

  There are deep shadows under his eyes. ‘Just when I felt like I’d finally found what I was good at, and was here forever, my lucky break dematerialised.’ He purses his lips. ‘All the more reason for you to stay and make the most of yours, Water Lily. At least tell me you’ll do that.’

  ‘I’ll think about it.’ And I do mean that. ‘But what about all next year’s bookings here?’ I’m remembering the chart in the office. Some months there were so many reserved stickers it looked like Kip had nailed his Vegas dream.

  Kip gives another long sigh. ‘Bart will look after those.’ His forehead crinkles. ‘There maybe aren’t quite as many bookings as there are stickers on the office wall.’

  My voice rises. ‘Kip?’ When I think of how worried they made Poppy. And how desperate we were to fight back. And how damned determined Jess was to go all the way for us.

  He gives an inscrutable shrug. ‘So maybe I made a few up, after Bart shoved the prices sky high. It’s a well-known sales trick, to encourage people to make up their minds.’ His frown deepens. ‘You didn’t seriously think …?’

  ‘It doesn’t matter.’ There’s nothing we can change now. And who’d have thought I’d finally be so gutted to see Kip taken down. Like this, and so suddenly.

  ‘We don’t have much time, Water Lily.’ As his mouth finds mine, the kiss he drags me into is sweet and hot. After a long time, I break away to stop the world spinning, and he shakes his head. ‘I’m sorry. This is such a mess.’

  ‘When do you leave?’ All I can hear in the background is bloody David Gray. Say hello and wave goodbye. When Kip said it was fitting, I never thought he meant like this.

  Kip’s voice is bleak. ‘I fly out tomorrow.’

  As his face dips back towards me, some primal self-preservation instinct kicks in. And instead of desperately burying my mouth in his, I’m pushing him away.

  ‘I was hoping …’ he begins.

  But I’m already half way across the ballroom, running blindly towards the double doors. Hoping? Hoping for a Penryn one-night-stand before he left, probably. And dammit if I’m being a hypocrite, given I was contemplating the same. But the big difference was I wasn’t going to sleep with him, then get the hell out of here.

  As I bump my way through the lounge, the blue sofas are blurring. By the time I dash to the office to grab my bag, and rush out of the front door, my tears are flooding down my cheeks, but the deluge of rain washes them away. As I dive into Gucci, the sobs are wracking my body.

  ‘Bloody Penryns breaking hearts and leaving town. Nothing new there.’ But as I rage through my tears I’m not just crying for me. I’m crying for Kip too. Because he was so close to nailing his dream. And now it’s gone.

  Chapter 49

  September, October, November …

  Who’d have thought one guy disappearing over the horizon would make you feel so crap, when mostly you didn’t like them anyway. Although his last piece of wisdom stays with me. Sorry, this is Kip I’m talking about – no surprise there then. He texted me before he left to point out we’d never had that mini break. How ridiculous was that? I didn’t text back. But whenever I close my eyes, it’s his face I see. And try as I might, I can’t stop replaying those last few moments in the ballroom.

  ‘I can’t understand why you and Kip aren’t skipping,’ Jess says one day.

  No idea how the heck she knows we aren’t. Skyping, I mean. It’s a sign that I’m not quite myself yet when I can’t be bothered to correct her. As for Jess, the harder she is on Bart, the more besotted with her he becomes. And it’s also become obvious that her commitment to the team isn’t temporary. She’s playing the long game here. Committed even.

  ‘When I asked you to work on the styling, I knew you’d be amazing, but I had no idea it would take off so well,’ she says another day. Jules has made us some picture boards from photographs of the weddings we’ve worked on, and we’re hanging them on the back wall in the basement. ‘At the start I lured you in by saying it w
as temporary. But I’d love you to stay. The way it’s going we could buy the shop next door. We could extend along the street.’ This is Jess. She can’t help her ambition running away with her.

  In the end, I don’t throw away my own chance to make a success of my career, and leave St Aidan. Instead I delete my job application files, and settle down to grow the styling department at Brides by the Sea. As for Kip, I know I’m the one in the wrong here. I had no right to be in love with him, when he never promised me anything, and certainly never encouraged me. All he did was help me learn how to be myself. Gave me that push to be properly happy. And I was so pleased when I thought I’d cracked it. I had no idea it would only work when he was there.

  The Daisy Hill Farm End-of-Season Wedding Fair brings in a rush of wedding bookings, as well as lots of future styling bookings. Although despite the changes at the Manor, and the bookings now coming out of her ears, Poppy’s anxiety sickness still refuses to go away. When Immie and I finally persuade her to pee on a pregnancy test stick, it takes ten goes before she believes what’s been staring us all in the face for months. Luckily Rafe’s delighted. Then before we know it, a late October frost turns the nasturtiums in the walled garden to slimy mush overnight. And it’s time for the Venue Awards evening.

  Chapter 50

  Tuesday, 21st November

  The Awards Reception at The Harbourside Hotel: Corkscrews and pure genius

  ‘I promise there’ll be a surprise if you come, Lily.’

  This is Poppy, trying to overcome my last minute cold feet about the Awards Gala Night. I’m almost ready, but making the final move, and pulling my dusky grey crushed velvet dress over my head suddenly feels like too much effort.

  ‘What kind of surprise? Popping candy chocolate gateau … Gourmet donuts …’ Since September I only go out when bribed by ever more elaborate confectionery.

  As Poppy scrunches up her face, she isn’t giving anything away. ‘Something like that. Or better, even.’ She wiggles her eyebrows, and gives her tummy a rub.