I left before Maria Cazzini and Pia were due to arrive. I just felt I’d had enough of trying to put a brave face on things by then and wanted to go home and be by myself. Being by myself was likely to be something I would be doing a lot of, anyway: I might as well practise.
‘Noah’s probably going to be quite late,’ Libby said. ‘I hope he’ll be comfortable in the gatehouse. It’s a bit basic, but Maria and Pia are having the only two currently habitable bedrooms. Do you think Pia will like her lovely bed and dressing table?’ she added anxiously. ‘Perhaps they’re a bit too girly.’
‘She’ll love them,’ I assured her, hoping that if she didn’t Pia would at least make an attempt to look as if she did. Libby had gone to so much trouble to turn Pia’s room in a very short space of time into a bower fit for a princess, but remembering the last time I saw her, I rather thought her current tastes ran more to black and purple. The bed was really, really over the top, though, so she might just love it.
‘I do hope you and Noah are going to get on too,’ Libby added.
‘I don’t think it really matters whether we do or not, does it, Libs? I might think he’s a city-bred idiot who drives a gas-guzzling car too fast, but that doesn’t mean I won’t be perfectly polite to him at the wedding.’
‘No…’ she said doubtfully. ‘And you’ll soon warm to him, because you’ve got him all wrong, Josie, you’ll see. He’s totally charming.’
‘I’m sure he is,’ I said, and then refused her very pressing invitation to stay for dinner and took myself off home where, since I’d forgotten to stoke up the range, it had gone out.
And there was a message on the answering service too, from Ben, who said tenderly, ‘Josie, I’m missing you already. Please call me when you’re ready to talk, darling.’
‘When hell freezes over!’ I muttered, erasing him.
I forced myself to eat something, even though I didn’t feel remotely hungry, and then I’m afraid I hit the bottle—or maybe that should be bottles—again. Apart from drinking, I didn’t know what to do with myself. My usual pursuits had all lost their charm.
Quite late, Russell phoned me to ask how I was, which I suppose was kind, even if it was a funny hour to do it in.
He said Mary was feeling very guilty and upset and I assured him that I didn’t blame either of them for not telling me what was happening, even though I do really—Mary especially. But, unlike Ben, I expect I will forgive her…eventually.
Chapter Thirteen
Altered Image
Uncle, who, as you know, shares all the gardening with me, has made me a gift of his car, a sunny yellow Vauxhall Cavalier dating back to the early eighties, with amazingly few miles on the clock, considering. The only problem is, I am a bit slapdash in my driving, not to mention loading the boot with henfood and vegetables, so it is unlikely to remain in its current pristine condition for very long…
‘Cakes and Ale’
For the second night running I didn’t fall asleep, I simply passed out. I felt such a strong craving for oblivion, I thought there was a good chance I’d turn into a lush.
I woke up early this time, though, and was immediately crushed both by a headache and a huge sense of aching loss. Hello, heartbreak, my old friend. The pale face and blue-circled eyes reflected by the bathroom mirror weren’t a good look either.
Breakfast was tea and aspirin. I couldn’t face anything to eat, which isn’t like me. Then with a sigh I got up and brushed my hair, tying it back with one of the brightly coloured knitted hair ties Pansy makes for me, and then went to get the car out of the garage—my car. But I firmly blinked back the tears that rushed into my eyes at the thought of Harry’s kindness, because once I started I knew I’d never stop. Those huge, gut-wrenching sobs might just tear me apart one of these days. Resolutely, I tried to blank my mind of everything except the job in hand.
This was Libby’s big day; I couldn’t cast a blight on it by going around looking like a wet weekend.
I know it’s only a step or two to Blessings, but it was far easier and safer to transport the wedding cake and the mini cupcakes in the car than on foot. The cupcakes were packed in boxes in the boot and the Leaning Tower, protected by giant bubble wrap, in the passenger footwell next to me. I crawled in second gear round the corner and through the gatehouse arch, and got as close to the Old Barn as I could, though right in front of it was a big refrigerated van. The place was a hive of activity. Clearly the food had arrived and everything was being readied for the reception later.
As I came to a stop and climbed out, Noah Sephton lounged out of the gatehouse, more casually dressed than the last time I saw him, but just as elegant. The inevitable camera was slung around his neck.
‘Hello! Libby told me to look out for you and help you with the wedding cakes.’
He seemed to be examining me critically as I opened the boot of the car and I knew I didn’t exactly look my best. Nor did I care. But something about my appearance seemed to amuse him, so maybe patchwork dungarees tucked into pink and white spotted Wellington boots, and a quilted jacket featuring big appliqué elephants, aren’t everyday wear in London?
His hands automatically went to his camera, but then he noticed my expression and thought better of it.
‘Are you still driving that horribly eco-unfriendly car too fast?’ I asked pointedly.
‘She’s parked behind the gatehouse and you know very well I wasn’t driving fast,’ he said mildly. ‘Well within the speed limit. And she may be a greedy gas guzzler, but we’ve been together a long time, so I don’t really think that’s good enough grounds for divorce, do you?’
I was diverted. ‘You call your car “she”? She has a name?’
‘No name. But the car’s curvy, expensive and purrs a lot—it’s definitely got to be female.’
I gave him a look and he grinned. ‘Come on, I’ll help you carry everything in.’
He took the boxes of cupcakes—I didn’t trust him with the Pisa cake. Inside I could hear Libby, but not see her, but she sounded as if she was in the tackroom, directing operations.
We put the boxes on a table and then I unpacked the Leaning Tower of Pisa and carefully set it down on the Graces’ lovely tablecloth, which was spread ready to receive it, while Noah started deftly to arrange cupcakes up the tiered stands that flanked it. He had long, slender hands. You might call them artist’s hands, though Ben’s are big and square…
‘How does that look?’ he asked, finishing the first stand, and I realised I’d gone into a trance again.
‘Fine. I’ll help you with the next one.’
Dorrie had a line of small, identical white vases lined up along the edge of the makeshift stage and was swiftly and efficiently making small floral table decorations. When we’d finished with the cakes I went over to admire her skill, with Noah following me.
The back of my neck prickled: I didn’t trust him with that camera, now his hands were free.
‘These are lovely, Dorrie!’
‘Learned it at finishing school, didn’t I?’ she explained. ‘Another bloody useless accomplishment.’
‘Well, it’s come in handy now. I think you’re really clever. Despite having worked in a florist’s shop when we lived in London, flowers always look worse when I try and arrange them, than if I simply plonk them in the vase. Not that it’s ever mattered, because I’ve never had any bouquets of flowers. Ben isn’t—’ I broke off abruptly, my eyes welling.
‘Stiff upper lip,’ she admonished me.
I gave her a strained smile. ‘I’ll certainly do my best not to cast a blight on the day. Now, I’d better tell Libby her cakes have arrived. She sounds a bit frazzled. Oh, too late—here she comes!’
‘Josie! I was just about to send someone to see if you were OK, or if the wedding cake had toppled over or—’ She stopped dead, staring at my hair.
‘What?’ I demanded. ‘I know it’s a mess, but I’m going to go back and wash it in a minute, honestly. And it isn’t an illegal
act to appear in public with bad hair, is it?’
‘It’s not that. It’s just that you’ve tied it back with a red sock, Josie. Isn’t that a bit weird, even for you?’
‘I have?’ I put my hands up and felt it and she was right—it was a sock. ‘I thought it was a knitted hair tie.’ I shrugged, because on the scale of recent disasters, this didn’t even merit a blip. ‘Oh, well, it’ll do to keep my hair out of the way until I go home.’
‘You might even start a new fashion,’ suggested Noah gravely. I hoped I’d only imagined the click of a camera shutter a moment before…
‘Be at Blessings by ten, Josie. Come right up to my room and we’ll sort out your hair and makeup. I’ve got people coming. You don’t need to bring anything, just yourself. Don’t be late.’
‘I’ll be there. Did Maria and Pia arrive OK yesterday?’
‘Yes, and it was lovely to see Pia again, even if she did have purple eye shadow and long black fingernails.’ Libby grinned. ‘I expect we committed a few fashion faux pas ourselves at that age. Gina’s back at the house, catching up with Maria, but Pia isn’t even up yet—you know what they’re like at that age, practically nocturnal. And she totally ignored poor Tim for ages yesterday evening, but the poor darling looked so hurt and baffled every time she rebuffed him, that eventually she started to come round a bit. I mean, how can you not like Tim?’
‘Impossible,’ I agreed. ‘I’m really looking forward to seeing Pia later, I haven’t—’ I broke off because I suddenly felt really dizzy—a horrible feeling. I must have swayed a bit because Noah took my arm in a surprisingly strong grip.
‘Are you ill?’
‘I—didn’t sleep too well, that’s all and then I wasn’t very hungry this morning. I expect that’s it.’
‘She’s being stoical,’ Libby explained, looking at me critically and noting the dark-ringed eyes and general morning-after-the-night-before signs. ‘She’s just broken up with her partner. In fact, I’m going to put you in charge of keeping her sane and sober until after the wedding, Noah. That should stop you taking too many candid shots.’
‘OK,’ he agreed amiably.
‘I don’t need taking care of. I’m fine,’ I lied, removing myself from his grasp. ‘Absolutely fine. Where’s Tim?’
‘Oh, after dinner he went and spent the night in the gatehouse with Noah.’
‘Though not in any biblical sense,’ Noah put in.
‘He’s not allowed to see me now until church,’ Libby explained. ‘It’s bad luck.’
‘Isn’t that going to be a bit awkward?’
‘Not really. I’m going into the house shortly and then he can come out and help here for a bit. He, Noah and Nick Pharamond were in the Griffin last night, so I expect he’s hungover.’
I only hoped they hadn’t been in the pub while Harry was telling Ben exactly what he thought of him! But if they had, Harry would probably have mentioned it.
‘Everything’s just about ready,’ Libby said, looking round the huge room with satisfaction. ‘A couple of hired waiters are on their way and the food and drink is staying in the van until later, to keep chilled, though some things are going in the fridge in the tackroom.’
‘It all looks lovely, and I have to admit that this was one of your more brilliant ideas,’ I conceded.
‘I think I’ve covered all the angles, so long as Jasper can manage as sole usher now Ben’s— Oh damn!’ she added. ‘Sorry, Josie.’
‘That’s OK. He’s not dead, just…gone.’
‘I’ll usher too, if you like,’ Noah said obligingly. ‘It’s only a few minutes at the start, really, and I’ve done it before, at a cousin’s wedding.’
‘Thanks, Noah. You just send everyone to the left or right of the church, according to whether they’re from the bride or groom’s side, after giving them an order-of-service card and a bag of dried rose petals.’
‘Rose petals?’
‘Instead of confetti—Josie’s idea.’
‘That’s rather nice.’
‘It’s certainly better than her first brilliant proposal, that the guests shower us with birdseed,’ Libby said drily, then checked her watch. ‘Right, Josie, you go back and get rid of the sock, wash your hair—no need to dry it; wrap a towel round it, or something—then come straight over to Blessings. The hairdresser will arrange it to go with the wreath of rosebuds.’
‘All right,’ I said. I loathed that wreath of rosebuds, but what did it matter? What did anything matter, except that Libby’s big day should go off without a hitch?
Noah helped me put the empty boxes back in the car and then I drove home and went to see Harry, who was ironing a shirt for the wedding—independence is his middle name. Mac was looking hopeful, but there simply wasn’t time to take him for his usual walk, so instead we ran right around the Green like mad things and then I threw his ball for him to fetch for a few minutes.
I felt a bit dizzy again after that, but time was rushing on, so I quickly showered and washed my hair and decamped damply to Blessings. I had to run the gauntlet of Gina and Maria, who both embraced me warmly and commiserated over Ben in a way that very nearly set me off crying again, except that I think my tearducts hadn’t had time to refill yet. Maybe I was all cried out.
When I finally made it to Libby’s room she was already immaculately coifed, veiled and made up, like a fairy princess; but from the neck down, she was still in fluffy pink towelling and bedroom slippers. ‘There you are, Josie! We were just going to send out search parties,’ she said with relief.
‘I had to take Mac for a quick airing, he’s got so much energy,’ I explained, ‘and then Maria and Gina waylaid me in the kitchen.’
‘Well, you’re here now, and this is Catherine and Paula. They’re going to do your hair and makeup.’
I wouldn’t let Catherine use anything chemical on my tangled tresses, which put paid to practically every product she had in her box. But after sighing a bit, in a long-suffering and frustrated kind of way, she still managed to tame my cloud of dark auburn hair and then firmly clipped the circlet of dark pink rosebuds onto it.
Then Paula started on my face, which was entirely bare. ‘Good skin,’ she commented, turning it this way and that and studying it.
‘Is everything you’re going to use on me cruelty free?’ I asked, as she pushed up her sleeves and laid out about a million pots, tubes, jars and plastic boxes.
‘Yes!’ she snapped, slapping my hand away as I reached out to read the label on the nearest product. ‘Now sit still.’
It’s very strange having someone paint you as though you were a canvas, and I was quite relieved when at last she laid down something that looked a bit like a shaving brush and said, with satisfaction, ‘There—natural but enhanced.’
I’m not sure what I expected to see in the mirror, but after all that work, I still only looked like a smoother, younger version of myself. ‘The lipstick colour is really pretty.’
‘I’ll give you one to put in your bag.’
I had this twee little dolly bag sort of affair, in the same velvet as my dress. I assume they came as a package.
Catherine and Paula stayed to help get us into our dresses without disturbing their handiwork, though first Libby insisted I go and change my undies for a new set she’d got for me. I thought she was a bit thorough when she took my measurements for the dress.
‘There’s nothing wrong with what I’ve got on!’ I protested.
‘Good, solid cotton is all very well for everyday, but to carry off this dress, you need something to enhance your curves, not flatten everything.’
I supposed she was right and I did want to do her proud as a bridesmaid, so I just did what she wanted, right down to the lacy-topped, hold-up stockings.
The dresses were carefully lowered over our heads, and then there we were, bride and bridesmaid, standing slightly stiffly like mannequins in front of the mirror.
Libby looked even more like the fairy on the Christmas tree than she usua
lly did, and stunningly pretty. I wasn’t quite sure what I resembled. It was like looking at a stranger.
‘I look…’ I paused.
‘Statuesque?’ Libby said helpfully. ‘The perfect foil—dark and tall, to my small and fair.’
‘You look beautiful, Libby.’
‘You know, so do you, in a different kind of way!’ she said, eyeing me thoughtfully, her head on one side. ‘I’ve never noticed before, probably because you don’t make the best of yourself.’
‘Oh, don’t be silly. I know you’re only saying it to cheer me up, but there’s no need. And by the way, I hope Noah Sephton isn’t going to take you seriously and attempt to keep an eye on me, because I’m absolutely fine.’ I managed to summon up a little smile from somewhere.
‘Hmm,’ she said, unconvinced. ‘I’m more worried that you’ll go to pieces after the wedding, while I’m away.’
‘No, honestly. I have to keep going for Harry’s sake and the Three Graces, and—’
‘Are you regretting throwing Ben out?’
‘Yes—no—I don’t know…’ I said confusedly. ‘I was a bit until I found those horrible notes from Olivia. Oh, don’t ask me, Libby, because it just makes my head spin and I feel sick and…and really, it’s better to try not to think at all, just live from moment to moment. Ben’s sending a van up for his stuff sometime today, because I think he’s afraid I might destroy it in a fit of pique, so every last vestige of him should be gone when I get home, which might help.’
‘Well, at least Noah can make sure you don’t drink so much that you dance on the tables or anything—or not until we’ve left for Pisa,’ Libby said frankly. ‘Then it might do you good to let your hair down and get sloshed in company, rather than alone. And it would keep him out of mischief too. Just remember he’s a demon philanderer and don’t get carried away, will you?’
‘Unlikely He’s not my type.’
‘He’s certainly nothing like Ben, that’s for sure. And anyway,’ she added, ‘he seems to go out with blonde, stick-thin models, so you clearly aren’t his type either.’
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