‘That’s what I thought!’ I chip in. ‘Does he remind you of Jeremy Clarkson?’
They both turn and look at me oddly.
Then Rachel says thoughtfully, ‘I think it’s just that he’s too much the opposite of Miles. I mean, is he ever serious about anything?’
This time I keep quiet, because I know for a fact that there is a serious side to Will, but unfortunately too, it sounds as though he’s still hung up on Karina, which is not good news.
But then we get on to the hot topic that we’re all itching to talk about, because there’s only a few days to go.
‘I’ve written a list,’ says Rachel, ‘of everything I can possibly think of. So can you both just listen and see if you can think of anything else…’
And she runs through the list, consisting of transport, the vicar - who’s booked and which we didn’t have to worry about because Agnes and Beamish did that bit, then it’s on to catering, which is the hog roast, the wine is all sorted, as is the music, the flowers…
‘So that’s about it,’ says Rachel eventually. ‘All we have to do now is wait for Friday and leap into action…’
Poor old Beamish. He wants to go on a bit of a stag do on Friday night. The task of telling him that none of the vets can go falls on Marcus, owing to his position of joint-senior-partner. He persuades Beamish that Thursday would be a far better night, so that he’ll be rested and clear-headed on the Saturday, which fortunately Beamish agrees with. The reality is that Emma and I have roped in all the vets we can lay our hands on to help us on Friday night.
‘Have you had any thoughts about our wedding?’ asks Marcus that night, as we cuddle up in bed.
‘To tell you the truth, the only wedding I’ve been thinking about lately is Agnes and Beamish’s,’ I say honestly. Then I stop, and prop myself up in bed so I’m looking over Marcus’s face.
‘That’s terrible,’ I say, gently kissing his lips. ‘It sounds like I’m not that fussed, and I so am. I can’t wait to marry you,’ I tell him.
‘I feel the same,’ he says soberly. ‘This might sound daft, but rather than get into some huge, complicated rigmarole of planning all the details which actually, as far as I’m concerned, don’t even matter, why don’t you buy a gorgeous pink dress, we’ll have a small ceremony – a church, registry office, a field – anywhere! And then we’ll have a party at the pub to celebrate!’
Oh! I am marrying such a clever man. I really don’t care about the whole big white wedding thing. I just want to be married to him
‘We’ll invite our parents, under the pretence of getting them together before the wedding,’ I say excitedly. ‘And we can book them rooms at the pub.’
I collapse back on the bed and gaze up at the ceiling. ‘What I’d absolutely love is a tiny service round the corner in the church… do you think the vicar would agree? Just our parents there, no-one else… and late afternoon, so we can all walk over to the pub like you said, where everyone will be taken by surprise…’
Marcus has a broad smile on his face and he absolutely agrees with me, so we decide that I’ll pop over and have a chat with the vicar and as soon as it’s organised, we’ll go ahead.
Everyone is working flat out this morning, to get everything done in double quick time, because tomorrow’s the big day. Will’s come up trumps, supplying not just one, but two willing vet mates who are taking all our calls from 5 o’clock this evening. It’s unheard of, all of us being off work at the same time, and with everyone in a holiday mood, it already feels like a party.
Rachel’s here and Karina came over at lunchtime. ‘Helping in the office,’ was what we told Beamish when he showed up rather unexpectedly. I can’t help noticing that there’s totally unmissable chemistry still going on between her and Will.
Marcus and Miles have collected some beers from the pub, because this is jolly thirsty work and we’ll most certainly need some serious refreshing before too long. For early May, the weather is perfect, and though the temperature’s dropping this evening, it’s been the most glorious spring day imaginable.
Dear old Will turns out to be a dab hand at all this. He’s strung up miles of bunting in the garden behind Ben’s house. Karina got hold of it and far from being the plastic Village Fete variety which I was expecting, it’s actually Cath Kidston and really pretty. He’s despatched Miles and Marcus to go and pull ivy off the trees to festoon the staircase with, and meanwhile, us girls are fannying around with flowers and fairylights, as Marcus so eloquently describes it. Oh, and drinking some of those beers.
Sam’s carrying piles of chairs inside, Zac’s spreading white cloths on the tables and it’s all starting to look quite amazing. And really, given one lovely old house, a few vets, a stunningly organised office manager (me) and a few more helpers thrown in, what more do you need?
44
It’s nearly ten o’clock when Marcus and I get home, and poor old Horace has almost given up on me. He comes cantering up to the gate hungrily, followed by a moth eaten Mavis, who’s mid-moult and looking most peculiar. And when I go to bed, I look at Marcus’s lovely suit hanging next to my very sexy dress, and get a warm fuzzy feeling at just seeing them together.
The wedding is at three o’clock in the village church. As expected, there’s just a handful of guests, including all the practice staff and the few close friends that Agnes and Beamish have invited. She looks so elegant in a moss green dress, and she’s carrying the tiniest posy of lily of the valley, which I suspect has come from their garden. Beamish looks proud - and very dapper, in an immaculate suit that’s a world apart from his usual hairy old tweed ones.
So, after months of waiting, here we are in the church. There’s Marcus, me, Emma, Ben, and across on the other side, teeny little Rachel squashed between Miles and Will, hedging her bets I wouldn’t wonder. Sam and Zac are just behind, and so is Mrs Boggle, complete with handkerchief which is already very much in evidence, with a man who’s a whole head shorter than she is. He, too, has a pudding basin haircut, and I can only presume that he’s Mr Boggle, because he couldn’t possibly be anyone else.
And as we stand, I link my arm through Marcus’s and feel a thrill of excitement, as I hope with all my heart that it won’t be long before we’re standing in here for our own wedding.
In no time, the brief service is over and we traipse merrily out behind the happy couple to the sound of church bells, which is a bit of a giveaway, given that this is supposed to be a secret. Emma and I throw rose petals while Ben takes some photos. Agnes and Beamish look so happy… And then it’s time for the tricky bit.
‘We’ve arranged a little surprise,’ I tell them vaguely, and immediately they both look wary, until they spot Terry the carriage horse, when their expressions change to relief, then as he pulls up in front of them, to complete delight. Terry’s carriage is positively festooned with flowers, which I’m guessing is thanks to Karina.
We all stand and wave as they trot away – then it’s time for the really tricky bit.
Marcus takes out his mobile. ‘Wish me luck…’
There are a few tense moments, before Marcus gives us a thumbs up. Yes! Beamish has gone for it, and the driver has already turned the carriage around. We all get in our cars and dash over to Ben’s so we get there first… Golly. Terry’s no slouch - I can already hear him hoofing it down the lane behind us.
As we park out of sight in Ben’s stableyard, Emma waits in front of the house for the carriage.
‘I’m really so sorry about this,’ she says, somehow managing to sound as though she really is extremely sorry. ‘Quick, come through here,’ she says, and takes both their hands in hers.
And of course there’s a predictable cheer as they walk in through the front door, and oh golly, suddenly I’m worried. I hope this isn’t too much for them. There are about fifty good friends and clients, and more promised later, plus some family that Rachel managed to winkle out. Everyone’s dressed in their finest and raising their glasses to Beamish and Agnes
, who just stand there, looking utterly amazed.
Rachel steps forward.
‘We know you didn’t want a big party, but so many people wanted to be part of your day,’ she says, looking anxiously from her mother to Beamish.
‘So many people helped,’ I chip in. ‘You wouldn’t believe how important you two are round here.’
And still they say nothing. Then Agnes takes Beamish’s arm.
‘It really is rather something,’ she says to him, looking around at how we’ve done up Ben’s gorgeous old house. ‘Do you know, darling,’ she says to Beamish, ‘I think this is absolutely lovely. Shall we go and mingle?’
And Beamish coughs and says ‘Um, yes dear,’ and arm in arm, off they go. I can’t tell you how relieved I am. And what do you know, as they walk away, Agnes turns her head and winks at us!
Now that our mission’s accomplished, I go to find Karina, who’s come with Sylvie. Arian, I’m happy to report, is nowhere to be seen.
‘The carriage looked fantastic,’ I tell her. ‘You did a brilliant job.’
‘Glad you liked it,’ she says, but sounds distracted. Oh. I see why. Will’s over there. Correction, because actually Will’s coming over…
‘Wow, this is terrific,’ he says enthusiastically. ‘You girls certainly know how to throw a party.’ Suddenly it feels like the moment to disappear, because their eyes are glued to each other. The attraction between them is palpable, even to me. I’m not sure where this leaves Arian…
‘Oh, golly, I must talk to Rachel,’ I say, wondering if I’m doing the right thing, leaving my ex’s girlfriend with the American who fancies the pants off her. But surely, I think to myself, if I were in Karina’s shoes, there’d be no decision to make.
Rachel’s looking confused, but then she thinks she has a choice between a handsome American who she says is never serious, and a gloomy Englishman who she says is never humorous. Personally I think she should forget about both of them, and look elsewhere.
‘Over there,’ I tell her firmly, pointing over to where Emma and Ben are standing. ‘Ben’s brother, I believe. Very hunky and nice mixture of big smiles and smouldering glances. How about him?’
The party is a rip roaring success. Well, how could it fail? The food is great, there’s more than enough wine and beer, even for us lot, and Will’s band impresses everyone. In fact, I’d go so far as to say it’s perfect, as I tell Marcus.
‘It is rather, isn’t it?’ he agrees. He does look dishy in that suit.
‘I have to say, I wasn’t sure to start with. And look… I think they really are having a good time.’ He points to where Beamish and Agnes are dancing cheek to cheek, as the band alters its tempo from Latin American to smoochy.
Marcus takes my hand. ‘Well, my future Mrs Fitzpatrick, shall we?’
Later on, I find myself accosted by Beamish, who’s holding a glass of whisky and frowning, which makes me wonder what it is he’s going to say.
‘Um. Louisa,’ he says as usual.
‘Um, yes?’ I say back.
‘Um, now, no-one else knows this, but Agnes and I, um were thinking, well, you’re doing an awfully good job, old girl. Yes…’
‘Thank you very much Beamish,’ I say. After all, it’s always rather nice when your boss gives you a compliment.
‘Yes,’ he says again. ‘Um, think old Agnes might quite like to retire… what er, do you think?’
What is he getting at here?
‘Well,’ I say, after considering his question, ‘I think we’ll miss her terribly. But I understand, Beamish, because she works so terribly hard. But we might need just a little bit of extra help you know.’
‘Well,’ he says jovially, ‘can I, er, leave that with you? Only um, as you’re in charge now, seems the best idea, um, yes. Well. Jolly good. Glad we er, got that sorted out.’
Then as he starts to walk away, he’s still muttering. ‘Damn fine party. Jolly good indeed. Well done.’
He goes off to find Agnes, a beaming smile on his face, leaving me none the wiser as to exactly what we’ve seemingly just sorted out.
We wave Agnes and Beamish off at about eleven thirty. I think we’re all amazed that they’ve lasted this long, but they seem to have had a fabulous time. And when I finally sit down, I feel bone-achingly weary but it’s been worth all the effort. Every bit of it.
‘Do I need to carry you home?’ says Marcus sympathetically, the bow tie hanging loosely round his neck now that he’s undone the top button of his shirt.
‘I think you might have to,’ I say.
Then he frowns. ‘Had rather an odd call a little while ago. From the police. Apparently someone was seen hanging around the practice earlier tonight. Amanda M-T happened to drive by and thought she better call them. They’ve been over and everything looks in order, but it does seem a little strange.’
‘Don’t worry. It’s probably nothing… Come on. Let’s go home.’
On our way, we glance across at the dance floor. And oh golly gosh. Karina and Will are still smooching, ever so closely, her head blissfully against his chest, his arms protectively over her. And even though it’s I’m-always-joking-Will, I have to say it all looks rather serious.
45
An enormous box of chocolates and a card is sitting on my desk when I get to the office on Monday morning. There’s also a crate of champagne.
I open the card.
Dear Louisa, we’re both delighted that it’s you taking over my job. Me in particular. You’ve proved yourself such an asset while I’ve been ill and we’re both extremely grateful. I’ve enjoyed almost every day I’ve spent there over the last fifteen years, and I have a feeling that you feel much the same.
The chocolates are for you, and the champagne for all of you after putting on such a wonderful party for us on Saturday. Oh, and Beamish will be putting this in writing, formally with details of your pay rise.
Thank you, dear Louisa, so very much.
Agnes x
I sit down, feeling, I have to admit, stunned. So this was what Beamish was not getting at on Saturday. I now officially run this office. I sit and let it sink in for a moment, then suddenly, I feel euphoric!
Then it strikes me that with Marcus being joint-senior-partner, and me being office-manager, we are pretty much holding the reins of this between us. Golly. Scary, or is it? Will it actually make very much difference, because at the end of the day when you take everyone into account, we have a fairly amazing team.
Right, I decide. My first important decision is coming right up, because I want Karina back in here regardless and if she doesn’t want the job, then I’ll have to look for someone else. And then I find myself thinking about her and Will, smooching - and it strikes me that on a purely selfish level, what I struggle with most is the ambiguity of our friendship, considering how I met her in the first place. Or is that in the past?
I call her.
‘Hello, Karina. This is the office manager of Beamish’s vet practice here, now also official head hunter.’
There’s a silence. Then she says warily, ‘Louisa, is that you?’
‘Well, of course it is,’ I say proudly. ‘They’ve given me Agnes’s job! It’s official! As far as this office goes, I hire and fire too. So do you want your job back or what?’
There’s another silence. ‘Oh Lou,’ she says eventually. ‘I do. Of course I do - but it’s complicated. I’m really not sure….’
‘It’s Will, isn’t it?’ I ask her gently. ‘Anyone can see there’s something between you. Do you want to meet later? Come over for a drink. I think Marcus is on call, so we can have a good old chat and sort it out.’
‘Thank you, Louisa,’ she says, sounding so unlike herself. ‘Oh, and congratulations.’
I just hope we can sort this out. It could be inordinately messy.
Then I call Marcus and give him the news.
‘Hello,’ I say proudly. ‘This is the vet practice office manager speaking. Just doing a little checking up on you�
�� How is your day?’
‘Louisa,’ says Marcus slightly impatiently. ‘What are you talking about?’
‘This,’ I say. ‘My new job. They’ve given me Agnes’s job!’ I reiterate because he’s a man and being thick again.
‘Oh,’ says Marcus, the penny clearly dropping. ‘Well done. I must say it makes sense, after all, you’ve been doing it for months. Look, I’m in the middle of something. See you later, okay?’
It’s a very sober Karina who knocks on my front door that evening. Marcus has been in and brought me a huge bunch of flowers in recognition of my new official position. He’s now gone out again, because I’ve explained that Karina and I need a bit of a girly chat. He raised his eyebrows and disappeared quite quickly. I wonder if he’ll bump into Will.
‘I honestly don’t know what to do,’ says Karina, once we’re sitting down with a glass of wine. ‘It seems so terrible to talk to you about this at all, when it was your marriage I broke up in the first place.’
‘Look,’ I say firmly. ‘If I’m honest, at the time I was devastated and much more. But that was then. I am truly glad, from the bottom of my heart, that you did what you did, because I’d never be with Marcus if you hadn’t, and honestly, I’ve never felt like this before about anyone. Least of all Arian. So please. Stop feeling guilty.’
She sighs. ‘I really am glad it’s worked out for you.’
‘Thank you. So what’s been going on,’ I ask gently. ‘Only you look so dreadfully worried.’
To my horror she begins to cry. ‘Do you know what? I’ll be completely honest with you too. I haven’t even been honest with myself until now, but I’ve fallen in love. And it’s not with Arian…’ and she starts to sob.
‘Oh Karina…’ I say sympathetically. ‘It’s hardly as though you did it on purpose… and none of us can help our feelings. But what about Arian? What do you think you’ll do?’
The Impossible Search for the Perfect Man Page 26
