A Wedding in the Olive Garden

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A Wedding in the Olive Garden Page 7

by Leah Fleming


  Sara was taken aback. How soon did they need this? Time to be honest. ‘You have to understand this will be my first wedding and I need to know your ideas.’

  ‘We have no money to speak of but out here we can keep it simple: after the morning civil wedding stuff I’d like a ceremony at dusk followed by a party – I’d like Sally the vicar from St Paul’s to give us a blessing, but not in church. Duke isn’t keen on four walls.’

  ‘You’re thinking of a gathering under the stars?’ Sara asked.

  ‘Yes, how did you guess? Griff has offered the olive grove if the trustees agree. It would be so romantic. You only do this once and I just want it to be special.’

  ‘Then we have a reception – at the taverna?’ Sara was trying to glean Pippa’s dream.

  ‘Of course, with music and dancing, a right old bash. We could run to that but about your fee?’ Pippa hesitated.

  Sara smiled. ‘I have an idea about that. As it’s my first event here and I need photos for my brochure and settings, if you give me permission to use some of your pictures, I will waive my fee… After all, it’ll be a first for all of us.’ They both laughed.

  ‘That’s very generous. We need to think about catering and I will need a dress, or a tent by then, nothing white or lacy, just a simple dress.’

  ‘I’m sure Mel will help you there. Do you have family to invite to join you?’

  Pippa shook her head. ‘Only Lygeia, my cousin, and she’s the biggest snob in the world. She had six bridesmaids, a wedding in Claridge’s, a dress with a cathedral train and a family tiara. No, I don’t think this would interest her at all. I’m afraid my family are a washout.’

  ‘I’m sorry to hear that but I’m sure you both have many friends here who will make up for them. And Duke?’

  ‘His gran has passed away so we’re both orphans of the storm who washed up here. Couldn’t live anywhere else now though.’

  They sat down on the veranda while Sara made notes. ‘I will need a date and your full names.’

  ‘Do we have to? For my sins, I am Philippa Columbine Marianne Delamere, as in the forest, but I want Pippa for the ceremony, and, wait for it, Marmaduke Albert Millar. Poor kid with that handle but Duke to everyone here.’

  ‘You need birth certificates, passports, probably an affidavit to prove there is no impediment to you marrying… that’s about it for the Greek bit but it all has to be stamped and translated into Greek. The sooner we get this set up, the sooner we can fix a date and book the garden. It’s all very exciting.’

  ‘I shall look like a beached whale by then.’ Pippa patted her swollen stomach. ‘This was a complete surprise to us but I’m not grumbling. Now I can get on with preparations. We might be looking for somewhere bigger to rent in one of the villages at some point. The houses will be cheaper if some expats haven’t snatched them for holiday homes.’

  ‘Don’t overdo things in your condition, easy does it,’ Sara warned. ‘Let us know if you need help. I’ll check up on what’s needed with Mel and let me know what you decide about catering. We’ll make it a night to remember but it’s your ceremony so every detail of yours counts.’

  ‘You’re a star, Sara. I hope when your turn comes it will be just as exciting.’

  If only, Sara thought, but said nothing. Her past was not for sharing.

  *

  The meeting of the Foundation Trust sat down around the dining room in the retreat house. Apologies, minutes of the last meeting, news of the reprinting of the Durrante memoir were read, followed by Any Other Business.

  ‘What’s this I see here about a request to use our garden as a wedding venue? I hope we all agree, it is most unsuitable to allow such a pagan ceremony to take place on these premises.’ Norris Thorner waved his minutes. ‘I mean, what next, pop concerts?’

  Sally Pearson, the new vicar in residence at St Paul’s, quickly butted in. ‘It’s hardly pagan, Norris, a young village couple want a blessing and an exchange of vows in the open air after a legal civil ceremony in the town. Pippa and Duke want their union legitimised before their baby arrives.’

  ‘Young people these days do it all the wrong way around. In my day couples waited until marriage before…’ Norris was riding his high horse. ‘I’m glad my Daniel and Soraya are going to do things by the book. Her father, Yuri Shevchenko, is coming over in his yacht to oversee proceedings and Dorrie is busy preparing for their visit.’

  ‘Well, it’s all different now, the world has moved on,’ argued Simon Bartlett. ‘Couples have their own ideas on cohabiting, to marry or not.’

  Griff waited until everyone had had their say before adding his own pennyworth.

  ‘The olive grove is hardly used and the courses will be coming to a close soon so why not open the garden for events and celebrations?’

  ‘But all the noise… all that music until dawn. Poor Dorinda has to take a sleeping pill on such nights. It encourages strangers into the olive garden. Who knows where it will end? And I don’t suppose you contacted Ariadne Blunt? I gather she still is on our committee?’

  ‘Yes, as a matter of fact I have contacted our founder member,’ said Griff. ‘She emailed me a letter which I will read out.’

  Dear Trustees,

  Thank you for inviting my opinion on this new venture. I heartily agree with opening up the retreat garden for open-air celebrations. I think Miss Durrante, whose presence I always feel within the grounds, would rejoice at such a use. She was the most romantic of authors and a wedding under the stars would please her, I’m sure. I expect security would be an issue and any feasting best supplied by supporting our local tavernas. Then everyone gets a slice of the cake.

  My thoughts are with Pippa and Duke who were stalwart members of my Christmas choir and their music-making always a pleasure to hear. Pass on my good wishes, our good wishes, in fact. It’s good to know there will be new life amongst us.

  I do miss our island but the chances of returning soon are slim. My partner continues to make progress after her big operation but it will be a long convalescence and I can’t leave her alone to take a trip back, much as I would like. I gather Miss Loveday is keeping our little villa in good order and I’m glad to know it’s in safe hands.

  If you wish me to stand down, do not hesitate to contact me but my dearest wish is to see the trust prosper and income from any source must be welcome.

  Best wishes

  Ariadne

  ‘I think that says it all,’ said Griff, putting down the letter and taking off his glasses. ‘If you would like to vote on the decision, I suggest we do it now. All those in favour…’ Hands went up. ‘All those against…’

  Only Norris raised his hand. ‘I think it’s better if I resign my post then.’ He stood up to leave.

  Griff raised both his hands in protest. ‘Do stay, we need your expertise to keep the funds in good order. You are the most trusted member of our team and we would hate to lose you.’ Griff had past experience in the boardroom of smoothing ruffled feathers. Norris sat down and everyone breathed a sigh of relief. Finding a competent treasurer was not easy. The only other contestant was still in London for the duration until his baby was born. The couple renting their house, that some wag had nicknamed ‘The Bunker’ because of its resemblance to a guard post on the Atlantic Wall, were letting it for six months.

  Griff decided to give Pippa and Duke the decision in person, only to find Sara Loveday sitting at their table discussing plans with them. ‘Great news, you can have your fairy lights and the olive grove. All we need is a date fixed.’

  ‘What’s the weather like in November?’ Sara asked him.

  ‘October would be more reliable,’ Pippa said. ‘Santaniki can have a mind of its own here. Perhaps we could put up a gazebo or something,’ she suggested. ‘Guests will get soaked if it rains.’

  ‘I’ll fix something up,’ said Duke. He looked at Griff. ‘With a little help from my friends.’

  ‘What about a yurt?’ Griff suggested. ‘We can hire one
large enough for the wedding party. The rest of the evening the guests will be in the taverna. If the night is warm and clear then we can hold everything outside and there’s no problem.’

  Pippa looked at Sara. ‘Too expensive, I’m afraid.’

  Sara nodded, then looked at Griff, shaking her head. ‘Transport is next on our list. I don’t think Pippa should walk, in her condition,’ she said.

  ‘I want a donkey cart, decorated with what we can find, to escort us down together. I know Katya’s father has one sitting in his yard and I’m sure if we gave them an invite to the party…’ Pippa suggested.

  ‘By the way, we’ve submitted everything, just waiting for approval and we declared neither of us have been married before,’ she continued, touching Duke’s hand.

  Griff looked around their little stone bothy. It really was primitive, just three rooms with a fireplace in the corner, a raised bench, table, stone sink and a well outside, but Pippa had put down kelims, rugs and sheepskin fleeces, making it very cosy and comfortable. In the next room was an iron bedstead and washstand. There was not much room for a baby and he must ask Sally and her husband if they knew of any small cottages coming up for rent, especially at the end of the tourist season.

  How strange that after only a year he felt so protective of his friends here and at the retreat house. Joining their little band in the taverna helped him socialise and he loved exploring the wide-open spaces where he could wander with his dog. He was so glad for the couple that their wedding plans were going well.

  Yet there was something else on his mind as he walked back from their cottage, something no one could ignore and it was the stink from unemptied bins in the heat. The vermin, cats and dogs roamed over them. At times the stink made him gag. There was no landfill so rubbish was ferried over to the big island. Only yesterday on his bike he saw a gully where fly tipping covered the greenery with mattresses and broken chairs. Why didn’t they just burn stuff? Then he realised there was the fear of setting the hills on fire in the hot summers.

  Did no one care for their own beautiful landscape? He hated to see guard dogs sweltering under plastic shades, chained, thirsty and flea-bitten. These thoughtless actions riled him, especially since he had rescued little Spartacus. Griff paused, knowing he was merely a guest here. This was not his culture but he felt he must question these matters at the next open meeting of the local council.

  14

  ‘No time like the present, Pippa. We have to find you a dress,’ Mel said as she was bashing down some pizza dough while Sara was chopping vegetables. ‘And have you thought of a menu yet?’

  Pippa was folding napkins. ‘What do you recommend? There’ll be a crowd…’

  ‘Let’s go traditional, for starters and main. Mother-in-law will approve of that, but for desserts I suggest some good old English puddings: apple pie, meringue pavlovas and a chocolate recipe I brought over from home. We have to have something to mark your origins. Are you making notes, Sara?’

  ‘In my head… as for the dress, I can’t see anything here but beach clothes and kaftans,’ she added.

  Mel paused, wiping flour off her face. ‘I have an idea. How about a trip to Chania on the ferry, a girls’ day out, a bit like a hen party. What do you think?’

  Pippa laughed. ‘You think of everything and I’d love that.’

  ‘Hair and nails we can get over here. Tula’s daughter has a little salon.’ Sara had been doing her homework.

  ‘I can’t afford anything very fancy,’ Pippa added.

  ‘Don’t worry, we’ll have plenty of choice. Chania is full of little boutiques and baby shops. You’ll come too, Sara?’

  Mel wanted Sara to have the full experience of her favourite city with its backstreets full of leather goods, shoes, jewellery shops and restaurants. ‘We can stay the night and enjoy an evening out. Is there anyone else who might like to join us?’

  ‘Why not ask Della Fitzpatrick?’ Pippa said. ‘She works in the NATO base, Sara. Della was our Pilates instructor and sang with us in the choir and she’s fun.’

  Mel was feeling protective of Pippa. They had bonded together in the band and she wanted her to have a great wedding. Sara was doing a brilliant job extricating all those little alternative details that would be truly Pippa and Duke, and Mel wanted to help where she could.

  Sara was savvy, cutting costs where she could, haggling over prices. Thrown in at the deep end and being so busy, she was settling into island life much better than Mel expected. Sara had a driven sort of energy, as if she must succeed at all costs. Mel wondered what had made her up sticks from the UK so eagerly. She knew very little about her private life, sensing something had gone wrong, but her past was a closed book.

  *

  The day dawned and it was sunny as usual when they gathered on the harbour waiting for the ferry. Della Fitzpatrick was going to meet them after work so there was a whole day ahead to shop until they dropped. At nearly six months Pippa’s pregnancy was beginning to show and they mustn’t tire her. First, they must find the dress and accessories. Mel knew just the places at the back of the harbour of this old Venetian town, where you could peep through gaps and look to the sea like the Lagoon in Venice. September was still full of tourists. The ceremony was in late October so the sooner the bride was satisfied with her outfit, the sooner they could enjoy the rest of their day. There were so many windows to peer in. Pricey boutiques were out but there were still little outfitters in the backstreets to explore.

  All Pippa kept doing was cooing over the baby emporiums with frilly cotton dresses, miniature boys’ trousers and jackets for the christening day; another big fat Greek affair.

  ‘Time for all that when Baby comes, it’s you we want to sort out now.’ Sara urged them onwards. This was a mission.

  Pippa stopped suddenly. ‘We’ve not got any rings yet,’ she said, peering into a jeweller’s window full of gold necklaces and pendants.

  ‘You don’t have to wear one…’ Mel was pulling her away.

  ‘But I do… I don’t want people thinking things.’ It was funny how her friend was reverting to type, wanting to be seen as a proper married woman.

  ‘Pippa, dress! You can sort that out when the time comes.’ They linked arms and found the nearest café to refresh themselves as Pippa’s bladder had a will of its own.

  ‘I’m not doing very well, am I?’ the bride-to-be said.

  ‘We’ve hardly looked at anything yet,’ Mel replied. ‘You rest your legs and I’ll go out on a recce with Sara and we can perhaps point you in the right direction.’

  Leaving Pippa with her iced frappé, the two of them set off. Shop after shop they scoured until they found a tiny place where a young woman with plaits around her head was sewing in the street. ‘Can we look round?’ Mel asked.

  ‘Endaxi… of course.’ Her accident was clipped. ‘I make them to order.’

  Inside was a rail full of soft linen dresses decorated on the shoulders or around the neck with appliquéd flowers and leaves. Simple but beautiful. Mel looked at Sara without saying a word. They both smiled. Eureka! Pippa was ushered into the little store and they stood back to let her browse. It must be her choice, not theirs, for the big day. The dressmaker did not hover either.

  ‘It’s for her wedding,’ Mel whispered and the girl nodded.

  ‘Just one moment, I have some more in the back,’ she said, disappearing, bringing out a mid-length linen dress in a rich turquoise blue; the sleeves were short, appliquéd with stars in gold and silver embroidery and the neckline was scalloped, edged with tiny pearls. ‘This is just finished,’ she said.

  Pippa fingered it, shaking her head with delight. ‘It’s beautiful, simple and loose. Can I try it on?’

  Mel watched, tears filling her eyes. Her friend had found her bridal gown. Pippa slipped into the little curtained-off corner and came out shining. She looked in the mirror. ‘Is this really me?’ Letting down her sun-bleached hair, suddenly she looked eighteen not thirty-nine.

 
; ‘You look amazing,’ Sara said. ‘The colour suits you so well; it’s the colour of the sea and the detail is perfect.’

  ‘But can I afford it?’ she whispered. The dressmaker smiled. ‘For you it will be…’ she whispered the price. Mel didn’t want to haggle. The price was perfect. It would be a dress to last a lifetime and unique, made with skill and love. She knew all the bridal stores with their voluminous gowns costing thousands. They were not for the likes of Pippa, but this little backstreet was perfection. Mel high-fived Sara, mission accomplished.

  Sara asked for her card. ‘I think we can bring people here again for the coolest of dresses.’

  Everyone was happy. Pippa kept peering into the bag. ‘Thank you, how clever to find such a gem in the undergrowth. Wait until Duke sees it.’

  ‘Not yet, not until your wedding day. If we’re going to be traditional, he can wait to see you in all your glory,’ Sara ordered. ‘I will keep it safe until then… now for pretty sandals.’

  What was it about seeing Pippa’s bare feet and purple toenails that made Mel suddenly think about treading grapes? ‘Don’t forget it’s the grape harvest, soon… all hands to the deck but not you, Pippa,’ Mel ordered. ‘We do it the traditional way, so shorts on and bare feet – we’re going to dance on the grapes. This you must see, Sara.’ Mel laughed, seeing the look on her face. ‘It’s good exercise.’

  *

  Spiro came back from his dance rehearsal and joined Griff, Simon and Duke round the taverna table. Irini was busy clearing away and the boys were asleep in the spare room. ‘What’s new?’ he said.

  ‘We’re having a meeting, sit down and help us out.’

  Spiro kicked off his boots. ‘My feet are on fire.’

  ‘Spiro,’ Irini called, seeing him peeling off his boots, about to sit down. ‘There’s a hole in your shirt, does she not mend them for you? Off on the town leaving you with no meat on the table. I don’t know what she will do next.’

 

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