Design For Loving

by Jenny Lane

  Annis looked at her friend in surprise.

  `That's not how I remember it; there was always pressure. It's that kind of job.'

  `That's not what I mean, Annis. Oh, you'll find out soon enough what it's like if you stay around for any length of time. If it wasn't for Uncle Bryn, I'd have packed it all in long ago, but for his sake I feel I've got to make a go of it.'

  `Come on, Sally, what is it?' Annis urged. 'Try to explain in words of one syllable what's bothering you?'

  `That's just it — it's hard to put into words. After you left, Zoe came to work here and we got on fine. She'd never replace you, but she was a good substitute. Things went along on a fairly even keel for a while, and I suppose I was so immersed in my work and stunned by what had happened between you and Andrew that I kept myself to myself. Besides, Uncle Bryn was around to sort out any problems.'

  Annis had pieced little bits together over the years from letters and e-mails and Sally had met up with her on the odd occasion in London and had a heart-to-heart. But then, after the fire, for a time they had ceased to communicate with one another, and this was apparently the point at which things had changed so radically.

  `Go on,' Annis urged Sally.

  `Stella used to swan about the place as if she owned it, but funnily enough and— I don't want to upset you by saying this —I don't dislike Stella. I think it genuinely was a chemistry thing between her and Andrew, and that although I admit she appeared manipulative it was just something that happened.'

  Annis nodded. Hard as it was for her to accept what Sally said, she realised that it was the truth, and after all, now that Andrew had died, both she and Stella were in the same situation except that Annis was the one that Andrew had rejected and Stella the one that he'd chosen to marry.

  `Since the fire, nothing's been the same,' Sally explained to Annis. 'Ross turned up and was very supportive, and Tristan was here already, but suddenly they were both in control, and without realising it at the time I seem to have been . . .

  `Pushed out?' Annis suggested gently.

  Her friend looked awkward. 'Yes, that's exactly how I feel — as if I'm here under sufferance. If anything goes wrong, it invariably seems to come back to me. Anyway, with you here to support me . . .’

  Annis felt cornered. 'Sally, I can't promise anything. OK, I've taken a couple of weeks' holiday and the firm owes me so much leave I could probably stay on a bit longer, but I'd need to be very sure that I wanted to be here before I gave up my job.'

  Sally nodded. 'I can understand that.' She sighed. 'I've tried to talk to John once or twice about how I feel about working here, but he seems to think I'm being paranoid. Of course, the easy thing to do would be to leave, but then I'd feel I was letting down Uncle Bryn and the rest of the team. If anyone can help me to sort out things here, it's you, Annis.'

  * * *

  Annis lay awake into the small hours, mulling over the events of the day in her mind. She was beginning to think she should have followed her instincts and stayed in London, but Sally had sounded so desperate on the phone and, somehow, Annis had felt a sudden urge to see Heathercote Mill again. However, now that she was here in Heronsbridge, she wasn't at all sure whether to stay or go.

  They awoke to a glorious July day, just right for a wedding. The caterers and florists were hard at work from an early hour and so, unfortunately, was Mrs Lawrence, the bride's mother, who was determined to supervise the entire operation and get under everyone's feet.

  Annis, as she tried to pour oil on troubled waters, wondered why Mrs Lawrence hadn't just organised it all herself in the first place.

  A pretty, fluffy blonde, Mrs Lawrence was decidedly overwrought, and Annis acted quickly, shepherding her into the office and ordering coffee.

  `Mrs Lawrence, everything is truly under control, so why not relax and leave it all to us?'

  Mrs Lawrence sniffed into a lace-edged handkerchief. 'I was in hospital last year and my husband and daughter fixed this up so that I wouldn't have any worries, but now I feel superfluous. I wanted to be involved. She's my only daughter.'

  `You know, we are a bit short-staffed,' said Sally, winking surreptitiously at Annis. 'I'm sure you could lend someone a hand, Mrs Lawrence. Perhaps you could check the seating plan and put out the place cards? They're so pretty, aren't they?'

  It wasn't the first time they'd had to deal with an overwrought mother, and a pacified Mrs Lawrence went off in the direction of the marquee, much to the relief of Annis and Sally.

  `We'll have to remember to send her packing around twelve o'clock or she'll never be ready for the ceremony,' Sally said.

  It was around eleven o'clock when the office door was flung open and a stocky, sandy-haired young man entered. He pointedly ignored Annis and she suddenly remembered where she'd seen him before. It had been in the antiques shop the previous day; he'd ignored her then, too.

  `There's a woman wandering around by the marquee,' he said to Sally.

  `It's OK, it's the bride's mother. She's supposed to be there and she'll be going shortly. This is my good friend Annis Fuller by the way. She's helping me out for a week or two.'

  As if noticing her for the first time, the young man turned to look at Annis and raised his eyebrows.

  `I'm Tristan Marsden. I wasn't aware we'd taken on any new staff. Your name rings a bell.'

  Annis met his hazel eyes levelly. 'I used to be engaged to Andrew.'

  There was a silence for a moment or two as he digested this piece of information.

  ‘But, of course — forgive me.' He stretched out a hand and she took it rather reluctantly.

  `Annis and I go back a long way,' said Sally, getting to her feet. 'I'll leave you to get acquainted while I check on the caterers.'

  To cover an awkward pause after Sally had gone, Annis said, 'It should be a good wedding. Everything's in hand and it's a glorious day.'

  Tristan perched on the desk and flicked through the wedding folder.

  ‘Mmn has the cake arrived?'

  `Yes, about an hour ago. Everything's going like clockwork.'

  `You're nothing like I imagined,' he said suddenly.

  Then he grinned, making her feel uncomfortable under his scrutiny.

  `We all have preconceived ideas, don't we? Look, if you're going to be around here for a few days then perhaps we could have a meal together. After all, you might well have an axe to grind with my sister but that's no reason why we can't be friends.'

  She caught her breath at his audacity, but then realised it would be a golden opportunity to find out more about what, if anything, was going wrong at Heathercote Mill.

  `OK, thanks, I'd like that — and, just for the record, I don't bear Stella any grudge. We both loved the same man — it was no-one's fault.'

  She saw the undisguised look of surprise on Tristan's face and suspected that this was not what he had expected to hear from her.

  He got to his feet. 'Yes, well, I must get on. I'm always a bit wary when things appear to be going too smoothly. Let's hope the bridegroom turns up, eh?'

  Annis swallowed back a retort, hoping he wouldn't find out about the band, at least not until after they'd arrived and had a chance to perform.

  * * *

  Everything went like a dream. It was a church wedding and so there was a little more time to prepare than if the ceremony had taken place at the Mill. Once the reception was in full swing, Sally breathed a sigh of relief and she and Annis ate a late lunch in the office.

  `There used to be a time when I could leave someone else in charge for an hour or so and slip over to the staff restaurant, but I daren't do that these days, because you can bet that if I do, something will go wrong.'

  ‘Not today, surely? It's all gone splendidly so far.'

  Tristan came in at that point. `Everyone seems fairly happy. Just one or two minor glitches.'

  Sally visibly paled and Annis found it difficult to believe her ears.

  `What glitches?' Sally asked.

  `
Well, it seems the buttonholes weren't quite right, and although the Lawrences aren't aware of it, they've been served a more expensive champagne, so — since it's our mistake — we'll have to pick up the tab.'

  Sally looked stunned. She looked at the wedding folder and then turned to check the information on the computer screen. She frowned.

  `There doesn't appear to be any discrepancy here. They both say the same and . . . '

  Tristan interrupted her. 'They may well do, but it's the wrong champagne and it came from a box with the name Lawrence on it. You must surely have signed for it before it went into the cellars? Anyway, it's too late to do anything about it now. I'll see you later.'

  As the door closed behind him, Sally pulled a face.

  `However do you put up with him?' Annis asked.

  `Oh, I'm used to him by now. Like I said, I only stay for Uncle Bryn's sake and because I can see something of John during the day,' Sally said, looking thoroughly miserable. 'All I've ever wanted was just to get on and do my job, but I don't seem to be able to do anything right as far as Tristan and Ross are concerned.'