“Well, you’re in charge, so I guess it will be fine,” Mollie said, playing with the silver bracelet on my wrist.
“What’s worrying you?”
“Snow is due, what if no one gets here?”
We lived in Wales, snow was inevitable at some stage during winter, but that type of weather didn’t usually arrive until February. She was right, snow was forecast. Eloise and I had already planned wellington boots for the bridesmaids and ushers. Charlie wouldn’t hear of wearing boots on his wedding day and said that his best man felt the same way. Charlie wanted to wear dress shoes. He wanted everything perfect for Mollie.
“How many people are coming out of town?”
“All of Charlie’s side, about ten people. He doesn’t have many relatives as an only child. Most of them are too old to travel to the depths of Wales. Their words, not mine. His best man is arriving early, but I’ve never met him. He has an assignment to finish before the big day.”
“Really? You don’t know his best man?”
“I’ve spoken to Dean on Skype in whatever country he was in at the time, but I’ve not met him in person. He is Charlie’s best friend since forever. Dean is always travelling the world, he’s a journalist, so we’ve never been in the same place at the same time. Charlie goes to London when Dean needs to see his editor. He doesn’t usually have the time to travel out this way very often.”
“Who does he write for?”
“I can’t remember specifically but a magazine that has been around for eternity and has the money to send journalists on long trips to get a story. He’d better turn up. This wedding has cost us more money than we ever imagined. If he doesn’t arrive, we may lose our venue as it’s his uncle’s place we’re getting married in. We’re getting married in the Drawing Room, sounds so romantic. Then the wedding breakfast is in the Great Hall. It sounds grander than it is, but it is really cosy for a small wedding.”
“I can’t believe you’re getting married in that old house. For years we’ve walked past it on long walks along the cliff but have never been inside.”
“It’s crazy, isn’t it? All these years we’ve itched to go inside and all along my soon to be husband’s best mate has a family member living there. It’s such a grand old building. When I went in to look around, it felt like another era. I only saw the two rooms we would use for the wedding and the bedrooms we can use to change in if we want to before the evening reception.”
“I’m looking forward to having a snoop around.”
My staff had started to arrive and get straight to work. Mollie hadn’t noticed and stretched her arms wide, yawning like she’d just woken up. Mollie almost took out one waitress, carrying a plate of bacon and eggs.
If we were to take a breathalyser test, we’d be both declared drunk. Fortunately, the server was used to flying arms in a small cafe and ducked in time.
“How’s your hangover?” I asked Mollie.
“It hasn’t kicked in yet, I’m hoping to get an afternoon nap and sleep tight through it.”
I laughed, liking her game plan. While we were chatting, I made us both a latte in a takeaway cup. She took hers, taking a long sip, sighing as the coffee did its work. I planned on taking mine next door as soon as the last member of staff arrived.
“When can I go up to the house?” I asked her.
“Any time you want. Jolene has already set up in the kitchens with her equipment. She has these fancy mobile ovens that stack plates. Her chef will need to plug them in an hour before we get married to warm up. Her staff will do all the carting up to the house with the food, so she can concentrate on getting ready. The Great Hall has already been decorated with holly and mistletoe wreaths and place settings as they won’t wilt. The tables are laid too. We have forty guests, so it didn’t take the decorating company long. They could spare the crockery and table cloths as Christmas Eve is a slow time for weddings in Wales. Dean said he would take care of the alcohol.”
“I think it's going to take at least a week for me to drink alcohol again. Will the place be open for me to set up the cake? I don’t want to disturb his uncle.”
“No, I’ll need to give you the keys. There’s only one set, so we’ve been passing them back and forth between each person. The cake is the last thing that needs to be set up so I can get them to you. I’ll check with Charlie, as he organised the people who did the crockery and glasses. He’ll know where the keys are. I don’t think Dean’s uncle is living at the house, something about an illness that has kept him in hospital. It should be empty for you to do your magic with my cake.”
“Drop the keys off here. I’ll pick them up before I hump all the stuff up there.”
The coffee was working its magic, soothing my soul as my head banged with the throb of my pulse. My heart did a double thump, and that reminded me of the kiss I’d had last night. Where was the man now? There weren’t that many places to hide in Talbot Bay.
“It’s a chocolate cake, yeah?” Mollie asked, bringing me away from my lustful thoughts of the best kisser I’d ever met.
“You know it’s not, so stop hinting with a sledgehammer.”
“I got outvoted on everything about this wedding, I’m supposed to be the centre of attention.”
Mollie whined, but her smile was wide. We all knew she cared about the details. She’d organised everything with us. The wedding dress was the most challenging task. Mollie wanted to use a dress she already had in her wardrobe that had seen better days. The girls and I had dragged her to the only wedding dress shop near the town and made her try on all of them. Then a second time until she chose the dress she would wear. The real reason why Mollie didn’t want to go dress shopping was that she thought her arse was the size of a house and no standard wedding dress would fit her. Eloise had called the wedding dress shop owner, who she’d known for years to arrange a selection of dresses in Mollie’s size. Cassie, Jolene, Eloise and I sipped cheap sparkling wine while Mollie modelled all ten dresses. Thankfully, Mollie couldn’t choose between two. We feared she wouldn’t like any, so we decided for her. Mollie would be stunning on her wedding day.
“You got outvoted on the cake, that’s the only part of this wedding you’d concede. Charlie didn’t get a look in. The poor man can’t even choose what he will wear on the day.”
“He can choose his pants and socks. That’s enough choices for one day.”
“Did he get to choose anything?”
“Only the cake. Charlie had one job, and he chose a fruit cake. Who the hell has fruit cake at a wedding?”
The entire cafe stopped talking and turned to Mollie, she had her back to her outraged audience. I laughed as I took another sip of latte.
“Probably ninety-nine percent of my customers,” I replied
“I think fruit cake should be outlawed.”
Mollie winced as she raised her voice in mock outrage of a fruit wedding cake.
“How’s your head?” I asked, hoping she was starting to suffer like me. Jolene’s restaurant opened evenings only so she could sleep her hangover off. Cassie didn’t work weekends so she would be comatose all weekend. Eloise had to open her hairdressers and had already sent me a message that she was too old for drinking and was planning on being tee-total for the rest of her life.
I needed to move her away from wedding cake talk because she was having a fruit cake as the centrepiece, but I would make her a chocolate cake just for her. That was Charlie’s suggestion.
“It hurts like hell, but I have too much to do to let it take over. Six days until I say I do.” I lost her to her thoughts for a few minutes while I served a few customers with takeaway cake. “How much weight can I lose in less than a week? Can I get my nails to grow super fast? What about my hair, is there a special potion for instant growth?”
A few more seconds and she was going to have a meltdown in my cafe. No one needed to see or hear Mollie’s insecurity about how she looked. I saw beauty where she saw wear and tear.
“Seriously woman,
what is wrong with you? He’ll marry you in a bin bag. Your long luscious locks are halfway down your back. Your nails are perfect because you had them done yesterday for your hen night. You don’t need to lose any weight because you’re beautiful and the dress wouldn’t fit. Now, leave me alone to dwell on my own hangover. The noise in here is deafening.”
Mollie looked around the cafe to find only one person sitting at a table in the corner. He had a pot of tea with his back to us. The place had emptied in the last five minutes after Mollie’s fruit cake outburst. Mollie didn’t need to say anything to make the point I was behaving like a diva. She pulled her gloves back on and swiped up her half-drunken coffee cup.
I have her a cuddle before she left. “Bye Mollie, drop the keys in when you have them, I need to get away from all noise.”
“Will do,” she said and waved me goodbye before gesturing to the almost entirely empty coffee shop. For good measure, she clasped her mitten hands over her ears, scrunching her eyes shut. I rewarded her with the middle finger.
All my staff had arrived, and that meant I could go home and wallow in a bath of bubbles and face plant my bed.
Chapter 3
Bronwyn
Thursday Afternoon – Two days until Mollie Gates gets married
Christmas Eve and Mollie’s wedding was happening in two days. My coffee shop manager was in charge of the cafe so I could take two well earned days off before I watched Mollie and Charlie tie the knot.
One day to finish the cake, and one day to slouch on the sofa, watching Christmas movies. On the third day, the morning would be spent in Eloise’s salon, getting pedicures, manicures and my hair cut and styled. The night before the wedding, we were all staying at Mollie’s B&B, and Charlie would be staying up at the house with Dean and the ushers. Charlie and Mollie had decided to stay at home for their honeymoon staying at the guest house. Not many people knew that part, thinking that they would be flying off to somewhere hot the next day. Flights on Christmas Day were problematic, added to the fact that Charlie needed to be back at work by New Year’s Eve. The Bed and Breakfast would be closed to guests for the first time in five years. The last time Mollie closed the guest house, Charlie had arrived in town with nowhere to stay. They both thought it was romantic to spend their honeymoon in the house they met in.
The wedding plans were arranged to an inch of its life.
There wasn’t a cloud in the sky when I loaded up my beat-up beetle with everything I needed. The forecast Mollie was worried about hadn’t materialised. All the tins, equipment and ingredients required to prepare the wedding cake and Mollie’s personal chocolate extravaganza was sealed away in airtight containers.
With my hands on my hips, I looked at the boxes on the back seat using my x-ray vision to see if I had everything. I knew I had, but I still thought I forgot something.
Eloise, Cassie and I had a bet on who would get lucky at Mollie’s wedding. Jolene wouldn’t take the gamble, assuring us that she would bring the hottest man we’d ever seen to the wedding as her guest. The other bet was who would catch the bouquet. Jolene was all over that, practising her leap and grab movements every chance she could get. I had to throw a bunch of fake flowers just so she could jump and land on the sofa in a graceful move.
Satisfied, I was ready to leave, after dashing back into the cafe for a quick look around, I slammed the back door of my car.
The venue was a large house, two miles away from Talbot Bay along the coast. You could walk there on a summer’s day but only when it wasn’t windy, which was most of the year. We were warned not to walk along the pathway up the cliff to the house as young kids as many people had slipped and fallen.
The drive up the long winding road didn’t take long. The grass with no flowers or trees on it surrounded both sides of the steep road. Once on the flat, with a few hundred yards to go, the building loomed on the horizon. Without any gates or boundary walls, there was no indication of what land belonged to Dean’s uncle or what belonged to the local council. It was at the top of one of the roads that lead out of town. Except this road was a dead end with a large house that was built in the mid-eighteen hundreds at the top.
I lurched to a stop outside the front door. It was straight out of a Jane Austen book. Sprawling fields surrounding the house with no modern amenities to be seen. The most recent addition that I could see was guttering and a new roof. It was one of those houses that had featured in my life as far back as I could remember, but I had ever ventured in. There was no reason to knock on the door or visit Dean’s uncle. I didn’t even know his name or knew what he looked like. The man had never ventured into town in the past twenty years. Rumour had it that he had gone senile in his older years and remained a recluse. The older generation knew him well from when they were younger, but no one of my age knew the man that was hosting my best friend’s wedding.
The roof looked new against the old pale brick, and it was at that point that I stood back further to take a look at the house. I passed my car, patting the bonnet and stood in the middle of the grass lawn. There was smoke coming out of one chimney but no evidence of anyone staying at the property. My heart lifted that there was a gardener or a housekeeper at the house that could help me in with my boxes.
I came back to the car and reached for my coat on the passenger seat, only to find it empty. I looked on the back seat with boxes piled high, and it wasn’t there either. Then I closed my eyes to remember that I’d left it on the counter when I was loading up the car. The blue wool duffle coat was too bulky and hot when I’d humped the boxes to the car on a bright winter’s day. I tried to squeeze into the small space behind the driver’s seat with it on and gave up, tossing it on the counter when I’d gone back in for another box. One waitress must have hung it up for me, keeping it out of sight from the customers.
There’s no smoke without fire, and no one leaves a fire unattended. Someone was in the house, I just hoped they could carry boxes.
I tried the front door, pushing at the large round brass door handle but nothing budged. A shoulder shove did nothing either. Tracing where the chimney was, I searched the window that would have the fire, to see a man with his back to me, typing on a laptop. He was giving the keys hell as he bashed away. Broad shoulders covered with a white shirt that could have done with an iron. His brown hair was cropped short at the back and sides and from what I could see was long and straight on top.
I couldn’t hear a thing but the force of his hands moving two fingers on the keys made me want to move the laptop away from the abuse.
He sat on a high-backed chair with bare legs. At this angle, it was difficult to see if he was wearing boxer shorts or pants.
The man’s hand stopped moving, and with slow motion, his head turned to look my way. With wide eyes and an open mouth, he grabbed a blanket from the sofa next to him and placed it over his legs.
It was way too late for him to cover his modesty, but now I thought he was naked from the waist down. Why would a man sit half-naked sitting at a laptop in an old house with the fire lit?
I stood in the freezing cold, staring at the bare leg he hadn’t covered, wondering if he had any tan lines. The parts I could see had dark hair, against a deep tan. He also had slippers on, giant green moccasin style.
He had big feet.
A hard shiver ran down my spine, making me shake with cold. I pointed to the front door to get the man to move. The man stood, wrapping the blanket around his waist but not quick enough. I saw his taught bare arse in all its glory.
He didn’t have any tan lines.
I moved to the back of the car, hoping he would open the door by the time I grabbed my first box. Hefting the first cake box, I shuffled to the side to shut the car door in case it started to rain before I came back for the next lot.
“Can I give you a hand?” he said from the door.
He was dressed in jeans, much to my disappointment, but he was also holding the handle of a trolley.
“Absolutely, only one lay
er, most of the boxes have cake in them.”
“All right Bronwyn, as you say, let’s get them inside,” he said, pushing the green handled trolley towards the back of the car. It was a simple, sizeable wooden trough on two wheels that had seen better days.
I handed him the last of the Perspex boxes and held on while I asked, “how did you know my name?”
He paused for a moment, confused that I questioned him.
“Charlie must have told me when he said the wedding cake baker would be arriving this morning.”
“Ah, so that makes you Dean, the best man.”
I stretched out my hand in greeting, which he took to say hello properly. We stood for a few moments, holding hands and grinned at each other.
“That’s right. I haven’t written my speech yet, please don’t tell Charlie.”
“Your secret is safe with me. I’m glad the bridesmaids don’t have to make a speech, I don’t think I’d eat a thing until it was over.”
“I feel that way too, even though I have known Charlie for so long. It’s a great responsibility to get the balance right for nostalgia, humour and love everlasting.”
“Especially since you’ve never met the bride.”
“True, not in person. I’m hoping I can rectify that tomorrow. It should give me inspiration when I see them together in real life and not just on the other side of a camera.”
The last box was loaded in the trolley, and we headed inside to dump all the stuff in the kitchen. The front door gave a satisfying clunk as Dean shut the large wooden door and pushed the latch across. No one was getting in this house any time soon. It had an inevitable echo across the foyer like we would never be leaving again.
His Christmas Surprise Page 2
