by Jenny Kane
‘Oh yes?’ Sam grinned. ‘Anything I should know?’
‘Not unless you want to hear about the vast differences in wedding dress style preferences between Mabel, your mum and me.’
‘I can imagine! I certainly don’t want to jinx things by hearing about – or seeing – your dress before the day.’
Tina shut the dishwasher door with a flourish. ‘I never thought you’d be superstitious like that.’
‘I’m not, but I’d like it to be a surprise on the day.’
Throwing her arms around Sam, Tina gave him a big kiss. ‘We’re really getting married here, aren’t we?’
‘We are,’ Sam played with her golden pigtails as he glanced towards the calendar, ‘in just under two months.’
‘Two months!’ Tina pulled away in panic. ‘But that’s not long enough!’
Sam’s forehead creased as he stroked her worried face. ‘But you knew it was in two months.’
‘Well, yes I did, but you saying it out loud… I’ve been so focused on worrying about not upsetting your parents, that I haven’t actually done anything more than think about what the wedding will be like. I’ve booked nothing! I don’t even have a wedding dress shop in mind to go to. It can take weeks to find a dress – months even! And what about the food and my hair and the chickens, your clothes and—’
‘The chickens?’ Wrapping her in a soothing hug Sam shook his head. ‘You don’t expect me to provide them with little dresses do you? Although Tony Stark could probably rock a rooster sized tuxedo.’
Tina giggled into his shoulder. ‘I can see him now.’
‘Don’t worry, love. The marquee is ordered for the ceremony. Tom’s been helping me on that front.’
Tina pulled away in surprise. ‘But we only just found out we were getting married here.’
‘We were always going to get married here, but now we can with my parent’s blessing.’
‘But what about food?’
‘I’m sure Sybil will step up with some afternoon teas. Are we, or are we not, the team that turned the restoration of Mill Grange around in a matter of weeks, against all odds?’
‘We most certainly are!’ Mabel appeared in the doorway, her arms wrapped around a large folder, which appeared to be stuffed full. ‘You are not to fret about anything, Tina. Not a thing!’
Thirty-two
Sunday April 5th
Thea read the email on her laptop. It echoed the text Julian had sent as she’d travelled home from the Cotswolds.
Thea,
I trust you are taking time to think things over regarding doing more television presenting. As you haven’t replied to my text, I have to assume it never reached you. (I recall Shaun complaining that the Wi-Fi reception in Upwich is poor.)
This email is to ensure you that I am serious about your future prospects in the business.
I have booked a private meeting room in the conference suite of The Harborough Hotel, Northleach, not far from Birdlip. Unless I hear in the negative, I will expect to see you there at six pm on Tuesday 14th April.
Regards,
Julian.
*
Wishing she’d told Shaun about the overheard phone conversation and Julian cornering her as they left the dig straight away, Thea sighed. She’d hoped Julian would give up and go away if she ignored him for long enough. It appeared that this was not going to be the case.
Thea mumbled at the screen before her. ‘How do I even start a conversation that will end with, “Julian asked me not to say anything about this, and oh, by the way, I suspect it’s your job he wants me to have, Shaun”?’
Hearing footsteps echoing along the corridor outside, Thea shut the email down as Sam poked his head around the door.
‘You alright? You look a bit pink?’
‘Bit tired. I’m fine.’
‘I wondered if you had a few minutes to save Tina.’
‘Always. But from whom?’
‘Mabel.’ Sam rested against the doorframe. ‘Now we’re all steam ahead for holding the wedding here, it’s hit us how little time we have. Mabel has stepped up as wedding planner extraordinaire. She’s fab, and what she’s saying is all good. But Mabel’s in her element and Tina needs back up. We both do if I’m honest. It’s a bit overwhelming.’
‘No problem. Why not call an impromptu staff meeting, that way we can talk about other things as well? I could do with being brought up to speed on the dig.’
‘Good idea, although I think Helen and Tom had plans with Dylan today.’
‘That might be as well. I was going to ask about Helen’s birthday. Are we doing anything for that?’
‘I rather assumed Tom would sort it out. I’ll try and catch him on his own later.’
Thea smiled. ‘You know that won’t be easy now Dylan’s here.’
‘It is going to make life more difficult,’ Sam agreed. ‘There are going to be times when we’ll need a full staff meeting. What will Tom do with Dylan then?’
‘Perhaps we could organise the main ones when Sue has him, and keep all others short. Dylan could easily sit at the table with us. Maybe he can draw or read while we talk?’
‘Maybe.’
‘You don’t sound sure.’ Thea tilted her head to one side. ‘Are you regretting your decision to let Dylan stay?’
‘Not at all, I was just thinking how different everything will be here when Tina and I have a family.’
Thea grinned. ‘That’s something worth changing things for though.’
‘Oh yes.’ Sam looked around the scullery that Thea and Tina had been using as their office since he bought Mill Grange. ‘Even though you showed me this room via video call, now I’m able to come in here, I am always surprised by how big it is.’
‘Scullery maids needed plenty of elbow room.’ Getting up, Thea dropped her pen. ‘I could do with a stretch. Shall I find Shaun and head to the kitchen?’
‘Walled garden would be better if that’s okay.’
‘Perfect.’
*
Dylan proudly read out each title as he lined his books up on the window sill. Every now and then he’d look at Tom and Helen through his fringe, as if asking if it really was okay to put them there.
Sensing his excitement had morphed into insecurity; Helen patted the bag that was slung over her shoulder as she watched Dylan from the doorway. ‘I have something you can use as a bookend if you like.’
‘What’s a bookend?’
‘Something that holds your books in place on a shelf.’ Helen opened the bag. ‘Would you like to fetch it?’
Tom laughed as Dylan rocketed forwards, his hands inside the bag in seconds. ‘It’s so heavy!’
‘It has to be, or your books will fall over. Careful now.’ Helen held out a hand, ready to catch in case Dylan dropped his prize.
‘Wow! It’s a fozzel!’
Helen couldn’t help but smile. ‘Yes, a fossil. Put it on the bed a minute.’
Dylan stroked the stone in delight. ‘Look, Dad, it’s like a swirly snail.’
‘It’s an ammonite.’ Tom looked at Helen in amazement. He’d seen the fossil in her room. It was the only unnecessary possession she’d brought with her from Bath – and now she was giving it to his son.
Is this the moment we should tell Dylan we’re a couple?
‘What’s an ammmonbite?’
‘Ammonite.’ Helen ruffled the lad’s hair. ‘Tricky word to say, isn’t it? They were ancestors of octopuses and squids. Lived in the sea between 400 and 66 million years ago.’
‘Million!’
‘Yes. That fossil is even older than Bert.’
Dylan giggled as he carried it to the window. ‘Thank you, Helen.’
‘You’re welcome. You gave me a lovely stone, now you have one too.’
Helen felt choked with emotion as Dylan asked, ‘Where did it come from?’
Hoping Tom would help her out, Helen pulled a handkerchief from her pocket; watching Dylan trace a finger over the lumps and bumps th
at formed an echo of the long dead creature.
‘Helen found it.’ Tom crouched down next to his son. ‘It’s from Lyme Regis, that’s in Dorset. It was dug out of a cliff. That’s what fossil means, “to be dug up from the soil”.’
‘You found this, Helen?’ Dylan’s eyes widened in awe.
‘When I was a student. A long time ago.’
‘But not millions of years?’ Dylan’s open expression reminded her of his father.
‘Not quite.’
‘Can I really keep it? Even when we live somewhere else?’
‘Even then.’
As the fossil sat in place, propping up an Enid Blyton collection, Tom gave Helen’s hand a secret squeeze. ‘What would you like to do on your first day as part of the Mill Grange household, Dylan?’
‘Can I choose?’
‘You can.’ Tom picked up Dylan’s favourite teddy bear and placed him on the pillow of his son’s bed. ‘A walk, a picnic, lunch out and explore in the woods, a paddle in the river?’
‘Well, umm.’ Dylan suddenly looked shy. ‘Could I have a go on the fortlet? Could I do archaeology?’
*
Butterflies danced around the trailing apple trees climbing the walls on either side of the garden. Sam joined his friends at the trestle table he’d set up for the meeting. ‘If I’m any judge, the apple blossom will be out just before the wedding. Let’s hope it stays.’
Thea smiled at Tina. ‘It’ll be like extra confetti if the wind blows.’
Mabel nodded approvingly. ‘Better than real confetti, that would do the chickens no good at all if it blew into their coop. I’ve written it down here.’ She lifted up a huge list, upon which she’d put, in capital letters, NO CONFETTI IN WALLED GARDEN.
Feeling a little intimidated as she clutched her own wedding notebook, Tina said, ‘That’s quite a list, Mabel. We only want a little wedding. Is there really that much to do?’
Catching Tina’s troubled expression, Mabel patted her hand across the table. ‘It looks worse than it is. It’s the smallest things that often take the time, but fear not. I’ll sort everything.’
Seeing that Mabel was in danger of giving Tina the wedding she’d have wanted for a daughter if she and Bert had been blessed with children, rather than the one she actually wanted, Sam spoke more firmly than he normally would. ‘With Tina’s help, Mabel.’
Ruffling through her papers, to hide her sudden embarrassed blush, Mabel opened her folder at a page covered in lists of wedding dress shops. ‘So, Tina, I know from our chat with Lady Bea what sort of dresses you favour. I’ve taken the liberty of researching which local shops sell the sort of thing you’re after. I hope that’s okay?’
Getting up, Tina threw her arms around Mabel’s shoulders. ‘That’s very okay. That’s the sort of thing that’s been panicking me. It’s not the getting things sorted so much as the time it takes to source everything before we can get things sorted.’
Mabel patted the folder. ‘That’s what this is, potential outlets, people to ask for help and stuff.’ She looked up from her planning Bible. ‘I’ve been in Upwich a while, I know pretty much everyone.’
Thea pointed towards the list of dress retailers. ‘Which is the closest, Mabel?’
‘There are three in Taunton, and several in Exeter. But there are also two local boutique bridal shops. One in Bampton and one in Wiveliscombe.’
‘So there is!’ Tina clapped her hands together, reminding herself of Sam’s mother as she did so. ‘I’ve driven past both shops heaps of times. I forgot all about them.’
‘Bridal shops are like that though.’ Thea recalled the boutique in the corner of the Bampton’s high street. ‘You only need one when you need one – if you see what I mean.’
‘I like to support local, but wouldn’t a boutique be much more expensive than a department store in Taunton or Exeter?’
‘Almost certainly.’ Mabel tapped her pen against the list of shops. ‘Also, the larger stores would probably have something off the peg you could take within a few days. We might already have left it too late for a specialist shop to get you a bespoke dress ready.’
Seeing the light in her friend’s eyes dim with a disappointment, Thea was reminded of the Tina she knew before Sam had come along. The girl who was going to marry with all the trimmings, wearing a diamond tiara and a mile-long train. Suddenly, she was determined that, even if the rest of the wedding was on a budget, Tina would get the dress she wanted – and on time. ‘Why don’t we call them? The boutiques, I mean. Find out the availability of time slots for trying on and their estimated turn round time on outfits.’
‘But if I fall in love with a dress and they can’t make it on time that would be awful.’ Tina looked at Sam. ‘I think I’d better stick to the department stores.’
‘And I think you should do what you want for once, and not what you think you ought to do.’ Sam beamed at his future bride. ‘Mabel, would you call the local shops, just on the off chance that our schedule doesn’t daunt them?’
‘My pleasure.’
‘Now I have a question for you, Shaun.’ Sam swallowed. ‘With all the to-ing and fro-ing lately, I haven’t had a chance to ask. I wondered if you’d do me the honour of being my best man.’
‘I’d be delighted.’ Shaun shook his friend’s hand across the table as Tina turned to Thea.
‘Obviously I want you to be my bridesmaid, Thea. And Helen as well, if she wants to. You will do it, won’t you?’
‘Of course!’ Thea smirked. ‘As long as you don’t make us wear pink or peach. I’d look awful, and Helen’s red hair would clash with it something awful!’
‘Talking of Helen,’ Sam gestured towards Mabel’s folder, ‘I don’t suppose there’s a spare piece of paper in there to plan something for her fortieth. What with the Easter egg hunt and open house on the same day, it’s been rather forgotten about.’
‘She might prefer it forgotten.’ Thea wrinkled her nose. ‘She’s got a bit of a thing about turning forty.’
‘Might be different now she’s with Tom.’ Sam tapped his pen against the table. ‘Either way, we can’t let the day go unmarked.’
Mabel turned to the back of the folder and wrote, ‘Helen’s Birthday’, at the top of the page.
*
‘Sorry about that.’
Tom pocketed his phone as he strode back to where Helen was showing Dylan how to hold a trowel in the test trench. ‘Your mum was just checking on you, Dylan.’
‘That’s nice.’ Dylan didn’t look up, his concentration set on the task in hand.
‘She’s bound to be concerned about him settling in.’ Keeping an eye on Dylan, Helen came to join Tom at the corner of the trench.
Tom lowered his voice. ‘I can’t work Sue out. One minute she’s dumping her son for a week without warning – not that I mind having him, but it’s the principle of the thing – and then she’s fussing over him settling in. It isn’t like he hasn’t stayed here before.’
‘Where has she gone on her break?’
‘No idea.’
Dylan looked up, ‘Mum’s with her job friends. Harriet told me.’
‘Your babysitter?’
‘I’m not a baby, Dad!’
‘Okay, your child sitter then.’
‘Yeah. Harriet looks after me when Mum’s out.’
Unease tripped down Tom’s spine. ‘Mum doesn’t go out much though, does she?’
‘Loads.’ Dylan placed the edge of the trowel against the loose soil, and pulled it neatly back. ‘Did I do it right, Helen?’
Puzzled as to why Tom was pulling his phone back from his pocket, Helen joined Dylan in the trench. ‘That was perfect. You’re going to make a fine archaeologist when you grow up.’
‘I want to dig up dinosaurs.’
‘And fossils?’
‘Yes! Big ones like your anonnon… nnomite.’
‘Good for you.’ Helen looked up to see Tom scowling down the phone.
‘Mum likes her work frien
ds now she has a new job.’
‘That’s nice.’
‘Harriet thinks Mum wants a proper family for me. She talks about that a lot.’ Dylan rolled his eyes in a way that made Helen think he was copying it from someone, probably Harriet. ‘I’d much rather talk about dinosaurs or Romans, wouldn’t you?’
Thirty-three
Monday April 6th
Helen stared out of the window as Tina drove her, Thea and Mabel to the wedding boutique for their first dress trying session.
Dylan’s first day at Mill Grange had gone well, but the little boy’s comments about Sue wanting him to be part of a family had hit home. And what with Tom’s popping off to the office to make calls or answer emails every hour or so, none of which he seemed to have a convincing reason for making, Helen had ended the day feeling confused rather than euphoric.
After a day of digging, by the time Dylan went to bed he was exhausted, and the chance to tell him about their relationship had slipped away. Tom had taken his son off for a bedtime story, and hadn’t come back out of the room again.
Over breakfast, Helen had discovered that Tom had fallen asleep next to Dylan. But that information had come too late to stop her having a broken night’s sleep, wondering if Dylan had told Tom that his mum wanted them to be a family again. All night she’d agonised over if that had a bearing on Tom not coming to share her bed.
Tom still hadn’t told her who’d been calling him on and off all day yesterday, but then she hadn’t asked. She hadn’t wanted to. She supposed it was Sue checking up on Dylan or Tom quizzing Sue on just how often her son was left alone with Harriet. Sometimes she hardly seems to care about Dylan – then others…
A small groan escaped Helen’s lips, causing Thea, sat next to her on the backseat of the car, to turn towards her. ‘You okay? You and Tom told Dylan the good news yet?’
‘No. Yesterday disappeared somehow.’ Not wanting to talk about her unease, which she wasn’t sure she understood anyway, Helen called into the front of the car as Tina pulled into a layby near Bampton’s wedding boutique. ‘Tina, are you sure you want me to be a bridesmaid? Thea would be fine without me. I’m not really a dress kind of person.’