by Jane Linfoot
Now I’m the one blowing. ‘And does Nicole know?’
Kip looks at his phone. ‘It’s seven now. I’ll ring her before eight.’
There’s a new question flashing into my head. ‘So why have you come to find me?’ Unless he’s simply come to stop the delivery of the props, the news for my mum could have waited. And surely it’s his place to break this to Nicole and Miles? Like now would be good.
Kip sniffs. ‘I’m up shit creek, Water Lily. It’s obvious you’re the first one I’d to turn to. You’re the one with all the ideas, tons of friends, and I know you’ll come through for me. I’m responsible for a wedding party, with no place to hold it. If anyone can pull me out of this, it’s going to be you.’
Which makes a change. Twice in the past he’s been the one dragging me to safety. I’m not sure anyone ever asked me to rescue them before. Although, seriously, I need to stop feeling flattered and get to grips with the practicalities.
‘Your usual answer to a problem is to hurl cash at it. That’s not going to work this time.’ Although even as I say it, there’s a glimmer of an idea in my mind.
Kip closes his eyes. ‘Too right.’
‘Although Poppy does happen to have a brand-new wedding barn …’ Poppy’s been listening intently, and as I meet her eye I’m very aware why she refused to take Nicole’s booking six months ago. ‘But Immie and Chas have signed up for exclusive use of the whole farm here, for their wedding in the house. And given Chas is Nicole’s ex-fiancée, you can see why they wouldn’t want to compromise their privacy.’
Poppy shakes her head. ‘Knowing Nicole and Miles, I’m not sure they’d go for anything as rustic as the barn anyway.’
Kip perks up visibly. ‘The insurance guys seemed to think we can still use the bedrooms at the Manor. And we have to keep the ceremonies in the same places, even if the Winter Garden’s damp. So it’s only the reception space we’re looking for. And Nicole’s numbers aren’t huge.’
The more I’m talking, the more my idea of getting Poppy and Immie an instant cash boost seems like bad judgement. ‘In which case maybe your best bet is to ring around and try for some last-minute marquees, Kip, or another vacant venue.’
Immie gives a loud cough. ‘Hash tag bride waving. I am here. ’ She does her jazz hands. ‘Surely Chas and me are the ones you should be asking about this?’
Poppy frowns. ‘I think we’ve already all made the decision not to make any changes, Immie.’
Immie screws up her face. ‘Remember last year, all Nicole wanted was to get married in the farmhouse? And this time round the farmhouse was her first choice too.’ She pulls down the corners of her mouth.
I can’t help laughing at Kip’s wounded expression. ‘Sorry to break it to you, Kip, but for Nicole the Manor was a consolation prize.’ Only I wouldn’t be making fun of him if I didn’t have the feeling we were about to haul him off his proverbial cliff edge.
Immie carries on. ‘Chas and I are having this fabulous wedding, but it’s only thanks to some whopping favours. The farmhouse is lovely, but when push comes to shove, we chose it so it would be different from when Chas didn’t marry Nicole. It wouldn’t matter to me if I had to marry Chas in a cardboard box. What’s important for us is getting married in front of all our friends, then having a great party. And that doesn’t have to be in the house.’
As I swallow back the lump in my throat, I can see Poppy scraping the corner of her eye.
Immie gives a gruff laugh. ‘There was a time when I felt like second best beside Nicole. But I don’t any more. I got the man, my dress is ace, and I beat her on Instagram too.’
Kip’s eyes are like hubcaps. ‘Really?’
‘Too right mate.’ Immie wiggles her phone at him. ‘I’ll have to check with Chas obviously. But speaking for myself, a party in the wedding barn would be more than perfect for us. Add in bunting and fairy lights, and we’d be ecstatic.’
Kip eyeballs me. ‘Fairy lights we can help with. Are there still some in the coach house, Lily?’
I nod. ‘Just a few hundred boxes. I’m guessing we can call on the firemen again to put them up.’
Kip’s giving me a ‘look’ for that quip. ‘As for flowers, we’ve got masses in our mixed borders in the walled garden haven’t we, Lily? Perfect for a rustic setting.’
‘Absolutely. Although you do realise you’re stealing all my lines here?’ And since when was he tuned into me well enough to do that? ‘This is so good of you, Immie.’ I grin at her.
‘If it means Nicole gets the day she wants, I’m happy to help. There’s no way Chas and I could enjoy our wedding party knowing Nicole and Miles had lost their day.’ She slides back into the building. ‘Give me a minute.’
With Immie out of the way, it’s time for the straight talking. I channel Jess in my mind set, then launch.
‘So I’d need to help decorate the barn for Immie, in which case Nicole may need to give up some of my time. But I’ll do the Winter Garden at the Manor for the ceremony as planned, and transfer her ballroom scheme across to the farmhouse as best I can.’ I’m still talking in the conditional tense. It’s certainly not a done deal, given Nicole doesn’t even know about it yet.
Kip’s straight in there. ‘Obviously, I’ll pay any extra fees for you … at triple rate.’
Nice one. Only what Jess would have asked for. ‘And you’ll have to look after the farmhouse wedding yourself, because the rest of us will be busy with Immie’s.’
‘Agreed.’ He nods.
I give him a stern look. ‘And most of all, you’ll have to promise to use every last ounce of your charm and manly wiles to keep Nicole happy.’
Kip’s grin is the width of the courtyard. At least. ‘That’s the first time you’ve admitted I’ve got any.’
Dammit. I walked into that. ‘Watch it, Cake-face. Nicole’s the only one it works on. And we’re only here because you stuffed up big time, remember.’ If I’m lashing out, it’s because of that accidental and misguided slip. Although a tiny part of me can’t help feeling Kip’s quietly taking the rap here for someone else’s cock up. I know when they were dishing out integrity, the Penryns missed out altogether. But it seems like Kip got hold of some after all.
‘And we’ll obviously pay you too, Poppy. Would double the full price of our venue be suitable? And we’ll pay for Immie and Chas’s new venue too.’
And dammit again, this time because he pre-empted my ‘this is going to cost you’ line. Even though I know Poppy would hate me making demands for cash, and profiting out of people’s misfortune.
I’m straight back at him. ‘Triple,’ I snap, thinking of how Jess would play this. At least this should go some way to helping Poppy’s cash flow troubles, and paying off Immie’s extra hours.
‘Great.’ Kip says. From his squishy smile he’s still basking in my charm blunder. ‘Thanks, Lily. Thanks all of you. I owe you all for this. Big time.’ Let’s face it, he should be whooping. We’ve seriously saved his ass here. For a rival he’s enjoying fabulous concessions.
Poppy chips in. ‘Well all this, and we’re still standing in the rain. Talking of cakes …’ She pauses to give me a ‘what the hell?’ look for earlier. ‘How about we settle the details over tea and ginger muffins?’ I only hope she’s doing the thing where you keep your friends close, and your enemies closer. As for the ginger, the stress from the Manor’s onslaught has sent her off chocolate. How awful is that? And particularly ironic given her choice of breakfast guest.
But before we have the chance to stampede to the kitchen, Immie reappears, beaming. ‘It’s official, Chas is on board. Go ahead. Call Nicole.’
And by the time we finally finish hugging Immie, Kip is on his way to the office phone. But we already know what Nicole’s going to say.
Chapter 39
Saturday, 12th August
At Daisy Hill Farm on the double wedding day: Pearls and pigs
The next two days go down as the busiest of my life. But the great thing is, there’s so much to do, t
hat even though Immie’s a close friend, for some reason this time round I’m not brooding about how it was all those years ago, getting ready for my own wedding. There’s simply no time to feel sad. Maybe I’ve got Kip to thank for that. His first contribution to the flood clean-up is to revert to type. The way the walls are reverberating so hard with heavy rock, you’d think loud music had drying properties. There’s too much noise from Iron Maiden to leave any space in my head for thinking. On the plus side, he does his best to dry out the tiled floor of the Winter Garden and helps me in with the ten foot trees Nicole ordered to go along the aisle. Then he sends his estate guys up step ladders to wire the hundreds of white flowers into the branches, and drape the diamanté strings from tree to tree. If my hydrangea blooms in shiny tubs are wilting due to an overdose of Deep Purple, for one time only, I’ll let it go.
‘I promise, if it’s the last thing I do, I’ll make this place ready for your mum,’ Kip says as he staggers past me with a stack of chairs. So much for Penryns running out on responsibility. This one is ready to take on the problems of the whole world single handed.
I still have my entourage of helpers when I arrive at the farm, along with everything that’s not going into the ballroom. There are enough trees for the orangery and the terrace too. Where, for the record, it’s still raining. The diamanté strings are thrashing around in the wind, but they’re a perfect addition to the walled garden with its neat lawn, and pretty border of tangled plants and climbing roses. Jess is back at the shop, overseeing the glittering of Nicole’s roses, and table arrangements adorned with as many dangling diamonds as a Kardashian’s jewellery box. Meanwhile I’m in the house, overseeing the table stylings, and pulling together the thousand finishing touches that Nicole has spent six months deliberating over. This isn’t so much a wedding as a work of art.
Over the top? Unreservedly. Bling? By the shedload. After all, she’s walking down the aisle to Diamonds Are Forever. And somehow it couldn’t be a better fit for Nicole and her gem encrusted lifestyle. At the Manor the accessories would have been fabulous. But when everything arrives, and it’s set against the backdrop of the simple lime wash and vintage details of the farmhouse, it’s astonishing.
‘Flaming toad bums, posh, or what?’ Immie says when she clomps in to inspect the orangery on her way to her wedding-morning make-up session. But Poppy and I can tell from the glow in her cheeks that she loves it.
The irony is – and there’s going to be plenty of it today – that Immie and Chas are going to be the first ones to enjoy the sparkle, because they’re having their ceremony here at eleven. An early slot, chosen to give maximum party time. And fingers crossed, they should be finished and away up to the barn for when Nicole and Miles and their guests come on from their one o’clock Winter Garden ceremony and photos.
I catch up with Immie getting ready after I’ve set out the masses of jugs and jars of flowers in the barn. Gathered by the armful from the walled garden at dusk yesterday, by Kip and me. There’s just enough time for me to change out of my jeans into my navy broderie anglaise shift, and gulp down a glass of bucks fizz, before we’re hurrying off down the courtyard, with Immie in her wedding dress.
As I carry her tiny rosebud posy, and Poppy carries her bag, Immie’s between us, an arm linked through each of ours, hands holding up her skirt.
‘I know you’re not bridesmaids, but you’ve got to stay with me.’ She’s striding out in her Doccies, as if she’s off to do the laundry. ‘For eff sake, Morg, are the ring bearers ready?’ She calls back to her son, Morgan, who’s a few paces behind us, folding up the umbrella, because by some twist of fate the rain’s stopped. After so many wet days, if you want evidence for karma, the rain stopping at this moment has to be it.
He rolls his eyes. ‘Take a chill pill, Mum. Rafe’s got them outside the garden, next to Nicole’s caterer’s vans.’
Who incidentally are waiting in the wings, and coming back into the farmhouse as soon as Chas and Immie leave. Complicated? Just a bit.
I’d almost forgotten. ‘Ring bearers? Which did you decide on?’ After all those Instagram posts, I can’t believe I don’t know.
Immie gives a chuckle. ‘You’ll see soon enough. I’d have had Henrietta the hen if it hadn’t been for the bird flu scare. Believe me, these ones will look brill next to all those diamonds though.’
‘So long as they behave they’ll be lovely.’ Poppy’s OMG eyebrow wiggle over Immie’s head tells me it’s not a given. That’s the trouble. When you involve animals, anything could happen.
As we arrive at the garden gate, Immie pauses to spike up her hair, and lets out a small squeal. ‘I can’t believe it’s happening so fast. Where the hell did this morning go?’
‘Four hours drinking lager, and having your make up done.’ Poppy laughs. ‘Worth every second. You’ve got contours and eyebrows to die for.’ As far as we know, Immie didn’t exceed her self-imposed five-can limit.
Immie thumps me on the arm as we go down the side of the house. ‘It’s only thanks to you and your sodding blindfold that I’m not here in my jeans, Lily.’ She lets out a belly laugh, blows up her non-existent fringe, flaps her fingers in front of her face, and starts to hyperventilate. ‘Toad bollocks, this really is it. I need to pinch myself to suspend my disbelief. Who’d have thought I’d ever get such a hottie? I truly am actually going to get to marry frigging wonderful Chas.’
‘You totally are.’ Poppy and I sniff, and exchange teary glances.
Half way across the grass Immie digs her heels in, and as she stops we both jolt into her. ‘Omigod, I feel sick.’
Poppy groans, and rubs her stomach. ‘Me too.’
I glance at my watch and realise it’s down to me to get Immie the last ten yards to the door. ‘Two minutes past eleven. Fashionably late, but still early enough to keep the registrars happy.’ I tug on her arm, propelling her forwards. ‘Come on, Immie, Chas is waiting for you. Let’s do this.’ I break into the nearest thing to a run I can manage in my second highest Miss KG heels.
As we dip under the swinging diamond strands hanging from the terrace trees, and reach the orangery doors I catch a glimpse of Chas way up front, raking his fingers through his sandy hair. Frowning, but fabulous in his navy suit.
‘Ready to go?’ Sometimes you just have to get on with it. Pressing the posy into Immie’s hands, I pull her to me for the briefest of hugs, turn her into the doorway, aim between the first two trees on the aisle, and give her a huge push. Then I throw Morgan in after her.
As he catches up and grasps her arm, she starts to move her legs.
‘Perfect or what?’ I whisper to Poppy as Elvis starts singing the first few words of Burning Love, and the sun breaks through the clouds. As Poppy and I creep into the back row of chairs in the orangery, I catch a glimpse of Rafe being pulled across the grass, hanging onto two leads.
‘Pigs?’ I gasp. Cream with black spots, the size of small dogs. ‘Oh my, Jules is going to have a field day.’
Poppy’s grin is rueful. ‘They were piglets when Immie chose them, but they grew.’
And dangling from each of their necks is a ring box.
Chapter 40
Saturday, 12th August
At Daisy Hill Farm on the double wedding day: Regal dressing and secret agents
‘Not saying you should go anywhere, but just to let you know Nicole and Miles’ first guests are arriving.’ Poppy whisks two vol au vents from the tray the landlady of the Goose and Duck is carrying as she passes, and puts one into my hand.
‘I’ll wander down soon. Miles seemed very grateful when he popped in earlier for a preview. But he doesn’t have Nicole’s appetite for complaining.’ I bite on the delicious asparagus and cheese, and lick the pastry flakes off my fingers. ‘I don’t know how you stand the stress of a wedding every week.’ What’s more, if Kip’s thinking of doing a wedding a day, he has to be bonkers. Or maybe hooked on the adrenalin rush? Which would explain how on task and wedding-attentive he’s been late
ly.
You know those days when there’s so much going on, and the stakes are so high, you’re too stiff to breathe? And it’s about much more than your feet being scrunched into heels that you can’t wait to take off. The kind of day when there’s not even time to fantasise about how it’s going to feel much later when you finally slide your feet into pumps. That’s me, now.
‘Bart’s in charge back at the Manor, Kip’s trouble shooting here. And your mum and David were in the courtyard.’ This is Poppy bringing me up to speed. We’re sunning ourselves with the guests, under flapping flowery bunting in the meadow behind the barn, as Immie and Chas work their way around hand in hand, swigging cans of beer, and saying their ‘hellos’.
‘It’s weird Mum and Nicole ending up at each other’s weddings.’ I say. ‘They were so fighty the day they met in Kip’s office.’ Although they’re scarily alike. And it runs a lot deeper than their Mighty pink lipstick.
Poppy’s grin is mischievous. ‘They’ve bonded over the Manor. Plus they both adore you of course.’
‘How was she looking?’ It’s a question I always ask about my mum, and I brace myself for the answer.
Poppy wrinkles her nose. ‘Queenly, in an easy to spot in a crowd kind of way. Typical Barbara. Lime suit, orange hat, and grenadine pink accessories.’ As expected. The bigger the occasion, the brighter the palette.
‘A bit like a hurricane cocktail, then,’ I say. ‘Or a parrot.’ Poppy and I are alcohol free, due to our responsibility levels, but for the first time ever I could do with a stress-busting drink. As I swig my Coke ruefully, I’m looking at the ring bearers in their pen in the corner of the field. ‘Weren’t the pigs good?’
Poppy laughs. ‘Those last two words aren’t often in the same sentence. Especially with the adolescent ones. Immie goes the extra mile for Daisy Hill every time. Photogenic ring-bearing pigs will be excellent publicity for us.’ She pats my arm as someone waves her inside. ‘Back in a minute.’
