Mo blinked away tears. “I love you too. Always.”
He smiled up at her. “So, Red, before this mud totally ruins my jeans, which of course are designer by the way, what do you say? Will you marry me? Or do you want to keep me grovelling just a little longer?”
“Grovelling is good,” said Mo thoughtfully. “It suits you.” Then she laughed and tugged his hand. “Still, we can’t ruin those jeans, can we? Of course I’ll marry you, Ashley! As if you could ever have been in any doubt!”
Ashley leapt to his feet and pulled her into his arms just as the sun slipped into the sea and the sky turned ochre and gold. As she kissed him and their horses champed the grass, Mo knew for certain that no matter how long forever did turn out to be, whether ten days or ten thousand years, it could still never be long enough for her.
Chapter 23
To say that Jules was surprised was an understatement. The pasty that had been on a very satisfactory journey to her mouth never made it; her hand froze mid-delivery. So much for her quiet lunch in the churchyard, sneaking carbs where Danny couldn’t see. Jules sighed inwardly and returned her snack to its paper bag. She really should know better. There was no such thing as quiet for the vicar of Polwenna Bay.
“Run that by me again,” she said to Ashley. “I thought you just said that you wanted me to marry you?”
Ashley Carstairs nodded. He and Mo were holding hands and grinning like loons. They did a lot of that lately, Jules thought, and in all fairness they looked exceedingly happy. But marriage? Seriously? They’d only been together five minutes.
“That’s what I said, Vicar, and the sooner the better too. We’d like to be married in two weeks’ time.”
It was just as well that Jules hadn’t taken a mouthful of pasty because she would have spluttered it all over them. One of the things she struggled with most in her role as a pastor was trying not to show what was going through her mind. Generally, Jules thought she did a pretty good job of this, but Ashley had taken her completely by surprise.
In fact, forget surprised; Jules was gobsmacked. Cashley was a millionaire playboy with a penchant for skinny blondes – and until very recently Mo had detested him with a passion. And now they were desperate to get married. What was going on? What was the rush?
Unless they were worried about the future of St Wenn’s? That might explain it.
“Guys, the church isn’t closing down that fast, so there’s really no rush,” Jules told them. “The bishop’s given us three more months to turn things around and I’m going to do my best to make sure that we keep the church. I’m sure you’ll be able to get married here next year.”
Mo and Ashley exchanged a look. They were hiding something, but what on earth could it be? This was the twenty-first century and if Mo were pregnant it wouldn’t really be a huge deal. Jules brightened at the idea of a village baby, since that would mean both a wedding and a christening at St Wenn’s! Two ticks on the chart that might make the bishop see sense.
“Don’t panic. I’m not up the duff,” Mo said, reading Jules’s mind. “We just want to get married and we really want to get married in St Wenn’s. It’s my parish church and it means a lot to Ashley too.” Her bright blue eyes twinkled. “Besides, wouldn’t a wedding help your cause? Granny said that we need people to use the church. It’s surely a better option than the Polwenna Bay naked male calendar?”
Jules shuddered. “Please tell me that’s a joke. The thought of the Pollards and Eddie Penhalligan in the buff is truly terrifying.”
“I haven’t been in The Ship recently enough to know. I’ve had better ways to spend my time,” Ashley confessed, putting his arm around Mo and pulling her close. The adoring way he looked at her brought a lump to Jules’s throat.
“I did speak to Summer earlier to arrange meeting up and she says that Nick and Danny have been working out like crazy,” Mo said slowly. She widened her eyes at Ashley. “Don’t let me stand between you and the Polwenna Bay Dreamboys!”
Jules made a mental note to find Danny and discover exactly what was going on. This calendar business was responsible for her first grey hairs, and he could blooming well foot the bill for her Nice ’n Easy dye!
“I’ll pass on the posing pouch, thanks,” Ashley told Mo. Turning to Jules he added casually, “But imagine if there was to be a big wedding at St Wenn’s. It might remove the need for such a calendar. Especially if it was a big wedding with a celebrity bridesmaid and press coverage and a property-developer groom who was prepared to pull his builders off his own projects and pay them top dollar, out of his own pocket, to work on the church. It might well start the ball rolling. There’s a luxury hotel here, a Michelin-starred restaurant and amazing views. Polwenna could be the new Rock and St Wenn’s could become the place to get married.”
“Get behind me, Satan Carstairs,” said Jules mildly. She dipped her hand back into her paper bag, broke off a corner of her pasty and chewed thoughtfully. “Mind you, I have to admit it does sound like a good plan.”
Above them the seagulls were dancing in the sky and the sun was playing hide-and-seek behind some fluffy clouds. Polwenna was a model village below, thrumming with life; in the harbour the half-hour tripping boats were collecting passengers to head out onto the blue sea. St Wenn’s, basking in the sunshine, surveyed all this beauty from its vantage point amid the emerald-green churchyard complete with its picturesque lichen-crusted tombstones. Any wedding pictures taken here would be stunning, Jules thought with a growing sense of excitement. Was Ashley onto something? He was a smart guy, after all. All that was needed was a little marketing, and bingo! They could be wedding central. Was this the answer to prayer that she’d been waiting for, in the very good disguise of Cashley? Or was Mammon seducing her? Jules was torn because it was so hard to know. Those Old Testament prophets had had it so much easier with their clear signs of burning bushes and locusts and rivers of blood.
On the other hand, this was marriage they were talking about. It was a sacrament, holy in the eyes of God, not to be entered into lightly or because the vicar wanted to save her church. It was time to slam on the brakes before she got carried away. Jules cleared her throat, in what was hopefully a vicarly manner, and composed her face into a serious expression.
“This is all very sudden. You’ve only been together a short while. Marriage is a huge undertaking and—”
“Yes, yes, we know all that, Jules. We’re not idiots. I know this is very sudden but we have our reasons,” Mo interrupted. Her blue eyes, the same cornflower shade as Danny’s, were serious now and she had that air of Tremaine determination about her that Jules knew you ignored at your own peril. “We want to be married in St Wenn’s and we want to be married within two weeks. Fact, as Morgan would say. So it’s pretty simple really. Will you help us or not?”
“There’s no point arguing with Mo. I might not have been with her for very long, but I can already tell you that.” Ashley kissed his fiancée’s hand. “She also gives a really mean cider shampoo.”
“You totally deserved it after what you said to me,” Mo reminded him.
“I was right though, wasn’t I?”
A look flashed between them, so hot that Jules almost expected flames to appear. She didn’t dare try to guess what Ashley might have said. All she knew was that she’d better do her Christian duty and marry them fast!
“You’re both adults. So, fine, if you think it’s the right thing then of course I’ll marry you,” Jules agreed. “Two weeks might be pushing it though. You need to have your banns read out in church for three Sundays over the three months before the wedding. That’s not me being difficult, by the way: it’s a legal requirement. Of course, having your banns read out is something rather special, so it would be lovely for you to attend then as well. You might want to invite your friends and family along too.” Which would boost the congregation quite significantly, she realised.
“We’ve already thought of that,” Ashley said. “We want to apply for a licence instea
d, to speed things up.”
Jules was impressed. “You have done your homework. There’d be some paperwork to sort out, and you’d need to attend a meeting with the Registrar and swear an oath first, before the licence would be granted. But given that Mo’s lived in the parish all her life it should be fairly straightforward, I think. In theory, anyway – although unless there are special circumstances of some kind I still wouldn’t advise rushing into things. I think it’s probably worth having a bit of time to prepare for your marriage, if you can.”
She was just about to take another bite of her pasty when Ashley reached out and caught her wrist.
“It’s time you knew the truth about why we want to be married so quickly,” he said quietly. “There are special circumstances. I’ve no doubt whatsoever we’ll get the licence, but as our vicar and our friend you deserve to know exactly what they are.”
His pale face was serious. Mo’s eyes were welling with unshed tears. Fiery Mo who never cried? Jules’s stomach curdled. Instinct told her straight away that this wasn’t going to be an explanation that she’d enjoy hearing. Suddenly the pasty, greasy in its paper bag and slightly sweaty in the heat, was the most unappetising thing she’d ever seen.
“Is this something to do with why you’ve been spending so much time in the church?”
Ashley sighed. “I’m afraid so. What I’m going to tell you isn’t common knowledge though. We’re going to talk to Mo’s family this afternoon.” His voice cracked a little. “It won’t be easy. They’re not my greatest fans.”
Mo squeezed his hand. “We’ll do it together and I promise they’ll soon love you just as much as I do.”
“I admire your optimism,” he said.
Jules stood up and brushed pasty crumbs from her jeans. A cold finger of dread traced a path along her spine.
“I have a feeling this is more than just a chat about weddings?”
They both nodded. Ashley was holding Mo’s hand very tightly as though she was an anchor keeping him from drifting away. Jules smiled at the couple, slipping into vicar mode. She’d had a strange feeling about Ashley for a while and now she knew that there would be some answers. Lord, give me the courage and the words to help, she prayed.
Aloud, she said, “Let’s go into the vestry where we can really talk without a Pollard popping up from behind a gravestone or Sheila accidentally wandering past.”
And where, she added silently, the peace and prayers of centuries would help her to listen, choose the right words and offer comfort where she could. Jules prayed she would be strong enough to support them.
In the end it was at least an hour after Ashley and Mo had left the vestry before Jules was able to compose herself. While Ashley had talked she’d listened carefully, trying to remain neutral – but the dismay had surely shown on her face as, one at a time, the pieces of the puzzle had fallen into place. Biting back her shock, she’d nodded, written the date they had chosen into the church diary, and discussed hymn choices and the kind of vows they wanted to make. All the usual wedding details for what would be a very unusual wedding. Their plans for putting the church on the map and helping to save St Wenn’s had hardly registered. It was a building, after all, and compared to what Ashley and Mo were facing Jules knew that all her troubles were insignificant.
Once they’d gone, their arms around each other and on their way to speak to Mo’s family, Jules had put her head in her hands and wept.
* * *
Knowing that the Tremaines en masse could be a bit of an unruly mob, and not wanting to subject Ashley to the full family interrogation, Mo had asked her father, Summer and Alice to meet them up on the cliffs at the place where a granite war memorial gazed out across the endless waves. It was a peaceful spot and Ashley said he always felt comforted by being somewhere that honoured the young men of the village who’d been cut down in their prime.
“You see, it isn’t just us, sweetheart,” he remarked to Mo as they sat on the weathered bench and read the names out loud. Tremaines of course, and Pollards and Penhalligans – all much loved, much mourned and now just memories and weathered letters on a stone cross. “There are no rights or wrongs in this, and no fairs or unfairs. It isn’t God or fate or bad luck, Mo. It’s just life.”
Mo gazed out beyond the memorial, to the place where sky and sea met in a blur of melting azures. This view across the water hadn’t changed for centuries and yet she and Ashley might only have weeks left together. There was peace in this thought that the world still turned, but there was anger too; now that she’d found him, Mo couldn’t bear the thought of ever letting Ashley go. In her eyes it was unfair and wrong and she did blame God. She’d wanted to tell Jules this but had bitten her lip. This wasn’t her battle: it was Ashley’s and it had to be fought his way.
And it seemed that he was already making his peace with what might lie ahead.
Ashley picked up her left hand and caressed her engagement finger before raising it to his lips.
“Once I’ve spoken to your family we’re going to go into Truro and choose you a really special ring.”
She shook her head. “I don’t need expensive things, Ashley. I’d be happy with something from Magic Moon. Silver’s got some pretty rings.”
He shuddered. “That hideous old hippy? I don’t think so. Anyway, we need wedding rings too and you need a dress. Or were you going to get married in your jodhpurs?”
“No, of course not. I was going to dig out my show breeches. They’re white.”
He gave her a grin that made Mo’s blood heat up. “Skin-tight breeches. Nice idea, soon-to-be Mrs Carstairs. I’m not sure I can even wait two weeks now. How about we just go back to your place and you show me?”
Mo took his face in her hands and kissed him soundly. “Will that do for now?”
“It certainly will, young lady!” Alice Tremaine, closely followed by Summer, loomed over them, looking distinctly unamused as well as pink-cheeked from the brisk walk.
No sign of my father, thought Mo bitterly. Jimmy was probably in the pub or off chasing the latest money-making idea or attractive woman. No change there then.
Ashley was on his feet and holding out his hand. “Mrs Tremaine, Summer. Please, sit down.”
He gestured to the seat, but then staggered and gripped the back of the bench for support. The powerful painkillers were kicking in now, Mo realised, and he was doing his best to fight his way through. The roller-coaster ride of the past twenty-four hours had been exhausting for her, so he must be feeling it even more. Ashley really needed to rest but she knew there was no way he would allow himself that luxury until he’d done the right thing and spoken to her family.
He looked so drawn and white-faced that Alice hesitated. Summer caught Mo’s worried expression and sat down quickly on the grass. “Come and sit by me, Mo, then there’ll be room for everyone,” she said, patting the ground beside her.
Mo gave her a grateful smile and sank onto the soft earth. It was worth a wet backside to make certain Ashley was comfortable. He was swaying a little now and she was terrified that he might collapse. She had to speak to his doctors about the practicalities of the weeks ahead, Mo realised with a jolt. He was going to need her in every way.
Once they were all seated Mo began to talk – but Alice held up her hand.
“No, let me speak, Morwenna. I know what you’re going to say, I’m not a fool, and I also know that you and Ashley are certainly old enough not to need my permission for any decisions you make, but I love you and I’m worried. This is all way too fast.”
“It is fast,” Ashley agreed. “But with all due respect that doesn’t mean it’s wrong, Mrs Tremaine. I love Mo and I want to marry her. Right now I’m the luckiest man alive because she’s agreed to be my wife.”
Summer’s hand flew to her mouth. “You’re getting married?”
Mo nodded. “Yes, and as soon as possible, which is why we need your help and support. There’s a lot to do.”
“We’re hoping Jules w
ill be able to get everything sorted in the next couple of weeks,” Ashley continued. “She’s helping us to get a licence in time.”
Alice looked stunned. “The next couple of weeks? This is crazy! What is Jules thinking, agreeing to it? Morwenna, you hardly know Ashley!”
“I know I love him,” Mo said simply. “Two weeks or two years, that won’t change.”
Summer smiled at Mo. “I understand. I feel that way about Jake.”
“Yes, but you’ve known Jake since you were children! It’s not as though you’ve only been together for five minutes!” Alice exclaimed in frustration. Turning to Ashley, she demanded, “Why the great hurry? Can’t you wait just a few more months?”
“Tell her,” Mo said to Ashley.
Ashley frowned. “Your father isn’t here.”
“Don’t waste your time waiting for him. He won’t show and that’s no real surprise,” she said bitterly. “We can tell Granny. Dad will have to wait. It’s the story of his life.”
Alice looked from one to the other. “What’s going on? Why do I have the feeling there’s more to this than meets the eye?”
“Because there is,” said Ashley, before slowly telling Alice and Summer everything.
When his words finally ran out, all four sat quietly, each lost in their own thoughts as the waves broke below and a lone gull cried high above. Alice shook her silver head in disbelief and silent tears slipped down Summer’s cheeks. Ashley placed his throbbing head in his hands and sighed.
“I don’t know what the future holds for Mo and myself, Mrs Tremaine,” he said softly, “but I do know that I will love her and treasure her and do my very best to make her happy every day for the rest of my life, no matter how long or short that may be.”
Mo’s vision was a blur of greens and blues as she stood up from the grass and moved wordlessly towards the bench, to be at Ashley’s side. She squeezed his hand and felt the comfort of the gesture returning from his own fingers. How was it possible to feel so much love and joy and sorrow all at once?
A Time for Living: Polwenna Bay 2 Page 22
