A Merry Mistletoe Wedding

by Judy Astley

  ‘Has it been on the market long?’ Mike asked.

  ‘If you’re thinking of offering less than the asking price, don’t even bother. This one will go in no time,’ the woman said. ‘It’s not been on long but I’ve had quite a lot of interest.’

  ‘It’s beautiful,’ Anna said. ‘Just gorgeous and it has a great vibe to it. I mean look, it’s a few days off November and it’s still sun-warmed and glorious.’

  Mrs Carter’s face finally cracked into a smile. ‘“Great vibe”? My husband used to say that. He’s gone now, though, so I don’t suppose I’ll hear it much again. You just reminded me there for a second.’

  Anna said, ‘Oh, I’m so sorry,’ and reached out to put a sympathetic hand on her but the woman moved back, holding gold-nailed hands up as if to fend her off. She came out with a vibrant cackle.

  ‘Oh, he’s not dead. Far bloody from it. He’s living it up in Sennen with a nineteen-year-old waitress. And her mother. Good luck to the three of them, is what I say. He’s fifty-six, the gullible sod. He buggered off without a backward glance just because some kid wiggled her skinny arse at him. Even gave up his beloved pottery. That’s not a garage out there, it’s, or it was, his studio. He had this idea he’d be the next Bernard Leach, bless his delusional ego. But in the end he could never turn a jug handle that didn’t look like a dead bird perched on a tree trunk. I sold the kiln.’ She turned away to the fridge and opened the door, taking out an opened bottle of white wine. ‘Drink?’ she offered.

  ‘Er, no thanks,’ Anna said, wondering what comment would be appropriate about the runaway husband.

  ‘I suppose you think it’s too early,’ Mrs Carter said, ‘and you’re right. But in my case, it’s too late, if you get my drift. I’m off out of this godawful place and I’m going to the big city.’

  ‘Ah, off up to London then?’ Mike said.

  ‘No I am not. I wouldn’t go there if you paid me. Truro, here I come.’ She took a large gulp of wine.

  Anna glanced at Mike and then quickly looked away again as she could see he was trying not to laugh and she knew it would be catching.

  ‘You promise this won’t be just for weekends and you can have the place. Asking price that is, no messing about. I put everything into getting it just right and I don’t want it sat empty for forty weeks of the year. Got all the ideas from Elle Decoration. But local slate and everything and craftsmen from the area. Got to be loyal to your neighbourhood.’ She waved her arm to encompass the maple kitchen units, the granite worktops, the dark walnut floor of old wide planks. ‘It was our bolt-hole,’ she went on, her voice sad and low. ‘But then the bastard went and bolted.’

  ‘I found this in the cat-food basket.’ Thea handed the silver bracelet over to Sean. They were having breakfast of coffee and croissants outside on the terrace. It was a bit too cold really: it seemed mad to be eating outside while wearing Uggs and a sheepskin jacket but the sunshine on the terrace overlooking the beach was not to be wasted.

  Sean took the bracelet and had a close look at it, frowning. ‘I’ve seen it before but …’ Then he smiled and said, ‘Oh, yes. It’s OK, I know whose it is.’ He put it on the table and took a sip of coffee.

  ‘And? Hey, you can’t leave it in the air like that. I’m a woman, I need to know. Details, please!’

  ‘Er …’ he began, looking a bit shifty.

  Thea’s heart thumped. She’d been anticipating some local friend, possibly Sarah, but she felt a sudden small chill that wasn’t about the weather. ‘Who is she?’

  ‘Hey, no one! It’s all fine.’ He squeezed her hand, laughing. ‘It’s just Katinka’s. She visited for a day or two. No biggie. Must have fed Woody and dropped it in the basket. I’ll post it back to her.’

  ‘She’s not local then?’

  ‘Hell no. American, west coast. It was a fleeting visit during the Newquay surf comp, back in September. She’s another surfer.’

  ‘Right. Known her a long time then?’

  ‘Oh yes. Years.’

  ‘Was she a girlfriend?’

  Sean shrugged. ‘I suppose. Not for long, though, and all wiped out of the brain since I met you, obviously.’

  ‘Did she stay here?’ She didn’t like to keep asking like this. It sounded both controlling and needy – something she’d never wanted to be again, ever. But the need to know was surely built into every woman when it came to the man you were about to promise the rest of your life to.

  ‘She stayed one night. In the spare room. She and her friend. Don’t you trust me, babe? You can, you know. I’m not a bastard.’ He looked quite sad for a moment.

  ‘I know. And of course I trust you. It’s just that you didn’t mention her,’ Thea said, still feeling a bit shaky. ‘Pretty bracelet anyway.’

  ‘I’ll post it back. Katinka isn’t an issue, I promise.’

  ‘Oh it’s fine. I just wondered whose it was, that’s all. Now I know – sorry. It’s just—’

  ‘I’m not your last horrid fiancé,’ he said, putting an arm round her. ‘I’m a whole different bag of trouble.’

  ‘I know, I know. Just, you know, now and then I can’t believe everything’s going so well.’ She laughed. ‘I’ve never been a luck-truster and so far I haven’t been proved wrong.’

  ‘Till me.’

  ‘Yes, till you. And OK – I’m over that moment so after this croissant I must call Sarah and apologize for being such a pathetic wuss at supper the other night. She must think I’m the most useless bride-to-be. No sense or organization at all. No dress, even – that’s unheard of!’

  ‘Oh, she’ll think it’s just pre-wedding nervy stuff,’ he said. ‘And on which … are there things we’re supposed to do? I know we’ve done all the registering with the relevant people and so on but it does all seem incredibly simple and uncomplicated compared with the usual Bridezilla sort of events.’ He hesitated for a moment. ‘I mean, that’s fine by me – I just want to marry you and have a fun day doing it but if you wanted something more flash …’

  ‘No, I really don’t. Just you and me would be ideal if it really came down to it.’

  ‘I didn’t even get you an engagement ring,’ he said, taking her left hand and stroking her fingers. ‘I’m a hopeless lover, aren’t I? I asked you to marry me, put some plaited bits of grass round your finger and that was it.’

  Thea laughed. ‘I’ve still got those bits of grass – they couldn’t be more precious. They live in my knicker drawer. And I’ve had a fancy ring before – it didn’t end well.’ She’d been about to have a fancy wedding too. Glossy invitations had been ready to post, the church and the hotel reception booked. Rich had wanted the full Rolls-Royce and morning-suit event and she’d had to fight him on the details, arguing that it was all a bit too show-off and she’d rather chill it down. If anything, he’d been Bridegroomzilla. And then, suddenly, well, you couldn’t have got feet much colder than his had become without having to chip ice off them. This time, though, this time would be different. It would be so much better: relaxed, casual, fun and somehow contained. It would be a celebration of Christmas with this funny little rural wedding thrown in.

  ‘This is what you want too, isn’t it?’ she suddenly asked him. ‘Is it just a bit too low-key even for you?’

  ‘No! It’s great! I love the Pentreath orangery and all I think we need to do is deck it with the traditional holly boughs, light candles and hope for a pretty frost beyond those windows as a backdrop. It’ll be brilliant, I think. I’m just a bit worried that you – being girly – might want more.’

  ‘Cheek!’ she said, laughing at him. ‘No, I really don’t. I want what we decided: the basics by way of a ceremony, a wedding breakfast that really is breakfast, on the beach if we can, and then later a lush Christmas dinner. No present lists because there isn’t much domestically speaking that we haven’t got between us, no show-off fleet of pointlessly posh cars, no—’

  ‘No hats? My mother really will go mental. She’s keen on dressing up.’
<
br />   ‘Oh, hats if people want them. Who doesn’t love a hat?’

  ‘Then there’s the other thing. We haven’t really talked it through, have we?’ He sounded hesitant. ‘Like Sarah, I’ve been assuming you’re happy to leave London and move down here next summer – but maybe that’s a false assumption?’

  Thea smiled. He really did look worried now. ‘Don’t be ridiculous. I really want to move down here as soon as I can! My job is only up there until July whereas your house is here and your job and that big wet thing out there that’s probably more important to you than I am.’ She pointed at the sea.

  ‘Oh, Thea, nothing’s more important than you are. But …’

  ‘See? But.’

  ‘The “but” is about running Cove Manor, not about you and the sea!’ he said, laughing at her. ‘It would be hard to do it from London, but your family and friends – and your house – are all up there, so leaving will be a wrench for you. But you know I’d love more than anything for you to come and live with me full-time here.’

  ‘I’m not so sure about the wrench thing. I can always go back and visit,’ she said after a pause. ‘But I don’t want to be a stranger to Emily’s children and to Elmo. I … I can easily rent my house out.’

  ‘Or sell it?’ he suggested.

  Thea wasn’t really surprised to find she hated that idea. The house represented an independence that had been hard-won. Being let down by someone she’d trusted had left her hugely reluctant to be reliant on anyone else, even the man she would go to the moon and back for if there was something there he needed. That house was her rock.

  ‘I’m already looking for a job round here,’ she told him. ‘The house I can sort another time. And yes, of course I want to live with you full-time. Anything else is completely mad and not even thinkable, not long-term.’

  He kissed her. ‘Good. You have no idea how happy that makes me.’

  ‘Me too. And it means I’ll be on the premises to deal with any more of your ex-girlfriends who just happen to be passing!’

  The decision seemed to have been made. Anna was light-headed with plans and excitement even though she knew that unless they sold the London house pretty damn fast there would be no chance of getting this one. The thought of not getting it was almost unbearable and she felt a ridiculous childlike anxiety at the possibility that this time next year she might not be the owner of this place. Heavens, it even had a studio. It was perfect. She could almost sense the tantrum she’d feel like having if they were gazumped. As they said goodbye to the owner (who was now on her second glass and had decided she adored Anna and Mike), she looked back at the building; she was already planning window boxes and a fresh coat of paint around the windows.

  ‘I’m thinking a soft green, perhaps,’ she said as she got into the car. ‘Or maybe lavender. A mauvey-blue with window boxes full of dark lavender.’

  ‘Getting a bit ahead of ourselves there, no?’ Mike warned as he started the engine. ‘Long way to go yet. But it’s perfect, isn’t it?’ He turned to her and smiled, then reached across and hugged her. ‘And we’ll have lots of change to live on. Who knows, if we peg out reasonably soon there might even be a little bit left to leave the children. Though I’d rather not, obviously. If we don’t get through it all, I’ll probably think we’ve failed.’

  ‘Are we being completely mad?’ she asked as he drove towards Penzance. ‘We are, aren’t we? I spend longer in a shop changing room deciding on a dress than I have in that house but I know when something “fits”. Will we be able to keep a base in London, realistically?’

  ‘I don’t know. Actually, I do know. Emily and Jimi both have houses – they can put us up. It’s what people do.’

  ‘Hmm … it’s not the same, though, is it? Imposing. I don’t want it to be all “Uh-oh, the olds are descending”. We’ll be “visitors”. Visitors, fish and laundry, they can only hang about for three days without being thought a total pain.’

  ‘Hey,’ he said. ‘So long as we bring Cornish champagne and a selection of pasties, I’m sure they’ll be glad to have us. Now, let’s go and find the agent and tell them we’re making an offer before we talk ourselves out of it. Deal?’

  ‘Deal.’

  FIFTEEN

  A little later, before Thea had a chance to call her, Sarah phoned from Pentreath Hall. ‘We’re having a work session today up at that school I run, Thea I thought you might like to come? We hold one every month and parents and children come up if they can and help out with a project. Today we’re going to tidy out the polytunnels and put on new covers. I thought, after what you told me about feeling that children should be outside more, that you’d be interested to see how we run our operation. Or do you and Sean have plans for this morning?’

  ‘No plans – Sean’s got to talk to Maria about food for this week’s clients. They’re keen to be almost fully catered, so I’d love to come.’

  ‘Great. I’ll pick you up in an hour. I’m bringing the dog so you might need a peg for your nose. He’s rolled in fox and I haven’t had time to wash it off.’

  ‘I’m sorry I got a bit emotional the other night,’ Thea said to Sarah later in the car. She’d opened the window to offset the waft from Olly the wolfhound. ‘It’s not at all like me. I’m usually pretty stable.’ She relaxed in her seat and put her hand through to the back to tickle the huge head of the dog that lay on the seat behind her. The car smelled strongly of him: damp, muggy – not an aroma you’d choose to share on a long journey; but it felt warm and sort of homey. When Benji had lived with Thea he’d always been confined to the boot and not allowed on the seats, especially after he’d been for a swim in the river, which he so loved to do while out on a walk. Yet the scent of him always permeated. Even now, after more than a year without him, there were times on a rainy day when she got in her car and had to look twice to make sure he wasn’t in there. She had texted Rich to say yes she would dog-sit that weekend in early November, but told him it wasn’t to be a regular thing. But it did cross her mind, now she was with Sarah and Olly, that if he did want a regular dog-sitter for Benji, she would almost be inclined to ask to keep him. A big dog like him would surely prefer living down here in Cornwall to hanging about in London, and he’d soon get used to having to keep on the right side of Woody, a cat that would never expect to take second place in his own home. Now that was a spontaneous train of thought that jolted her more than a bit – had she made at least half a decision?

  Sarah laughed. ‘Surely there isn’t a bride on the planet who doesn’t have a meltdown at some stage before the wedding? I do hope you make it up with your sister – I’m sure she’ll come round to the idea when she’s had time to think it through.’

  ‘Hmm. I don’t know. It seemed such a fun idea at the time – and surprisingly more practical than anyone would think in terms of who in the family can get here – but perhaps she’s right and we’re being horribly selfish getting married at Christmas. She’s got her own ideas about how she wants to spend that time. I think Emily just wants to be at home with her own children, her own Christmas tree and her own turkey, and not have to whizz off to the far end of the country. I shouldn’t expect them all to put their own plans on hold just to come and see Sean and me signing a register.’

  ‘Oh, but it’s more than that, isn’t it? Your wedding is a major life event. It’s to be celebrated. After all, in theory and in hope, you only do it once. And I tell you what: if Emily doesn’t turn up, she’ll hate herself for it later. Perhaps someone can give her a nudge about that.’

  ‘Well, we’ll see. Sometimes I think Sean and I should simply go ahead with it on our own, forget about inviting anyone at all and just have you and Paul as witnesses and a quick drink down the pub with whoever’s in there on the day. The way it’s going at the moment, that would be a lot less hassle all round.’

  ‘Oh, we can do better than that!’ Sarah insisted. ‘I think what you have planned, just family and a beach barbie breakfast, sounds absolutely lovely. And the
re’s still a Christmas dinner thing for later so it wouldn’t be so terrible for Emily, surely? After all, it’s not as if she’ll have to cook it or shop for it – who wants to do all that when they’ve got a tiny baby to take care of? I think your wedding sounds properly sort of home-grown without being twee. But – and I hope you don’t mind me asking – did you deep down not actually quite like the idea of a fancier event?’

  ‘Ugh, no!’ Thea was vehement. ‘I was supposed to have one of those before. I wasn’t over-keen even then but it became something that gained its own momentum, like a big snowball. And then when it was all well under way he simply bailed. Moved out and did an absolute runner. In retrospect, as things turned out I’m massively glad that he did but at the time, all I could think about was how much I’d invested – time and effort-wise – into the day itself. I think I’d forgotten that it was supposed to be about lerve. This time, I’m not making the same mistake. This time it’s the other way round.’

  Thea wasn’t sure what it was about Sarah that made her offload everything like this. She seemed to exude a calm optimism, a certainty that everything would come right in the end and that there was really nothing to fret about. By the time Sarah turned the car up a narrow lane and through a gateway into a small field, Thea was feeling properly relaxed for the first time in ages. Physical distance from home, from the tensions of both work and family was finally making the worries slip away.

  Sarah parked alongside several other equally muddy and hedge-scratched cars.

  ‘The school is through there.’ She pointed to a five-bar gate as they got out of the car and Olly was attached to his lead. The gate was hung with strings of conkers, pine cones, twigs and dry coppery leaves. Pieces of grey-cream sheep’s wool were intertwined. ‘The children made them,’ Sarah explained as Thea admired them. ‘They collected what was lying around our little woodland area and made “autumn”. Then we hung them on the gate to welcome the season in. Soon we’ll take them down and put up a new set of winter strings to take us through to December and January.’