Willow Cottage, Part 4

by Bella Osborne

  Beth had been on the phone so long she thought her ear must have those funny little wrinkles you got on your fingers from being in the bath too long.

  ‘… on top of the cake disaster I can’t find a florist that is free and within a fifty-mile radius as apparently everyone in the Cotswolds is getting married that weekend!’

  When Carly paused for breath Beth saw her opportunity. ‘I’ve had an idea. Now listen before you dismiss it because it’s not as bad as it sounds,’ she began.

  ‘Really selling it to me there, Beth,’ said Carly with a small huff.

  ‘The WI.’

  ‘The Women’s Institute! Are you having a laugh? My nan belongs to that! It’s all curly perms and bitching about soggy bottoms!’

  ‘Is that listening before you dismiss it?’ said Beth, her voice going all schoolteachery, and she acknowledged she had a bit of a habit of doing that.

  ‘No,’ said Carly, sounding like a sulky teenager.

  ‘Right. Petra is a member of the local WI …’

  ‘Petra!’

  ‘Uh, hum!’ Beth coughed her annoyance at the interruption.

  ‘Sorry,’ said Carly.

  ‘Yes, Petra is a member. It had a revamp not long ago when they brought two WI groups together so it covers a few villages and hamlets.’ Carly groaned on the other end but Beth ignored her. ‘It’s a real mix of ages: mums from school, people who work, some who are retired, and the one thing they have in common is that along with embracing all that is good about the WI and its pledge to educate women they mainly drink wine and eat cake.’ Beth was happy with her summary. She had been along once with Petra and she would have gone more often but even going halves on a babysitter was a cost she couldn’t stretch to right now.

  ‘Okay, but how exactly does that help me?’

  ‘The WI has lots of women with lots of skills and links to lots of local businesses. I know that Petra does favours for the other members and I’m wondering if we could tap into that. I’m sure at the very least they could whip up a lovely Vicky sponge,’ said Beth with a chuckle.

  ‘Bloody hell! I want more than a soggy-bottomed Victoria sandwich for my wedding cake!’ said Carly but at least she was laughing too.

  ‘So shall I ask the WI?’

  ‘Nothing to lose,’ said Carly. ‘See if any of them do flower arranging too.’

  ‘I will, good idea!’

  Chloe, Petra’s barmaid, had a sister who was a very responsible 16-year-old, although Beth feared that was an unlikely combination. Anyway she had been persuaded to leave Leo, along with Denis, in the girl’s care in exchange for free-flowing fizzy drinks and crisps, on the strict instructions that she call immediately there were any problems. Jack had offered to take them climbing but Jack was still in Beth’s bad books and she wasn’t ready to swallow her fatty lump of pride just yet.

  And if Beth wanted the help of the WI the least she could do was turn up to one of their meetings and ask her favours face to face. Beth had a jacket on, another charity-shop find that she had become rather attached to, and a mulberry flat cap although even for a May evening it was definitely starting to warm up.

  They walked up the hill to the church hall that sat firmly between Dumbleford and Henbourne on the Hill and Beth took a proper look at the church for the first time. It was really rather pretty in neatly cut Cotswold stone with a square tower that was topped by an unusual pitched roof. Beth hadn’t taken much notice of the church but now she was keen to get a look inside.

  ‘Come on!’ said Petra, trudging up to the church hall, which was a little further on and itself a more modern conservative building. When they opened the doors the noise struck Beth; a lot of high-pitched chatter was emanating from inside. She followed Petra in and paid her money to attend as Petra’s guest and dutifully bought a raffle ticket although she had no idea what the prize was and didn’t like to ask. Petra headed to the hatch through to the kitchen area where wine glasses were rowed up. The bright lights were momentarily blocked when Maureen appeared on the other side of the hatch. Beth looked at her for a moment, studying her expression. She was almost expecting her to growl.

  ‘Two glasses of white wine, please,’ asked Beth, handing over a note.

  Maureen poured out the drinks, handed back the change and pointed to a tray of gooey brownies. ‘Help yourself,’ she said with what Beth hoped was a smile but it was hard to tell with Maureen. Beth smiled back, scooped up two brownies and handed them to Petra while she carried the wine glasses.

  Seats were all set out round the room. They found a couple of free ones and sat down. The brownies soon disappeared and after a good mouthful of wine Beth’s taste buds had returned to normal. She was about to ask, What happens next? when a woman in her thirties with short dark hair stood up and clapped her hands. The noise level reduced and she began to speak. ‘Good evening ladies, tonight is Strictly WI and we are learning salsa …’

  Beth wasn’t sure what was said after that because she was having some sort of panic attack. She had come along to ask for some help with cakes and flowers. What was going on?

  Despite her protestations Beth found herself flung, literally, into learning some basic salsa steps and an hour went past at lightning speed. She was on her second glass of wine, laughing along with some other women of a similar age, when Petra tapped her on the shoulder and she followed her to the front of the room.

  ‘Ladies, this is my friend Beth. She is new to Dumbleford and the WI but she learns fast,’ said Petra, pointing at the wine glass, and a small cheer went up. ‘She is helping organize her friend’s wedding here at St Botolph’s Church and she needs our help.’ Petra stepped back and gestured for Beth to continue.

  Beth cleared her throat. ‘Thanks everyone. It’s my friend Carly and she’s getting married on the first Saturday in June which is three weeks away and surprise, surprise all the key things we need we can’t have because they’re already booked up. I’m in desperate need of people to help with flowers for the bride, the church and table centres, a cake and hang on …’ She took a folded list out of her jeans pocket. ‘Chairs and tables for inside the marquee, photographer, butterflies – she wants to release some as she comes out of the church, a band … actually no, don’t worry about that one,’ said Beth, realizing that that was one of the things she really should keep a tight rein on, but the ladies of the WI were already chattering away. ‘Anyway, if anyone can help with anything you usually have at a wedding, please let me know. Oh and of course the happy couple are going to pay you.’ This last piece of information seemed to send the volume back up again. Beth sipped her wine and waited.

  As she had hoped women started coming over and introducing themselves and she ended up jotting down her mobile number on several serviettes. When it was time to go Beth was feeling very pleased with herself and she handed over her empty wine glass to Maureen with a smile. ‘I’ll do the cake,’ said Maureen. It sounded very much like a statement of fact rather than an offer.

  Beth was still taken aback by the gruffness of Maureen’s voice even after all these months. ‘That would be terrific, Maureen, thank you. There was another lady … Barbara I think it was that said she could decorate the cake but wasn’t a confident baker. Could you two work together do you think?’ Beth was feeling very brave after all the wine.

  Maureen shrugged and took the wine glass to the sink. She wasn’t sure if that was a yes but Beth didn’t like to question her further.

  Chapter Forty-One

  One minute Beth was glossing the skirting boards and the next she was looking at a very elderly man’s photos of his partially bald parrot.

  ‘And here’s one of him on top of his cage … and this is the new road sign they put up. Is that one blurry? It could be my eyes, you see I’m waiting for a cataract operation …’

  Beth failed to stifle a yawn. ‘Have you ever photographed a wedding?’ she asked, already shaking her head more in hope than anything else.

  The old man copied the head-sha
king, ‘Yes. I took snaps at my grandson’s wedding last summer.’

  ‘Great, have you got any of those?’ Beth tried hard to muster some enthusiasm.

  ‘Not had the film developed yet because there’s still a couple to take on there but I could pop them round when I have if you like?’ Film! When was the last time anyone used that? Beth was thinking that the poor old soul might curl up his toes before he got to the end of his camera film.

  This was going to have to be a ‘no’, it wasn’t even a ‘maybe in case we get desperate’, and Beth wasn’t good at this sort of thing. ‘Thank you for coming round and showing me your photos,’ she said and the old man sat up straight making it all the harder to let him down. ‘They were lovely and very interesting but I really think we need someone with a digital camera because my friend lives in London and she’ll want the photos emailed to her. I’m really sorry.’

  ‘That’s okay, lovey, it was nice to see what you’ve done to old Wilf’s place. I would have knocked it down myself but you’ve clearly worked very hard and it’s looking grand.’

  Beth was surprised by how much the kind words meant to her. She had worked hard and it was lovely for someone that knew Wilf to give her their seal of approval. ‘Thanks, there’s been a lot to do,’ she said, showing him to the door.

  ‘Yes, but you’ve made yourself a cosy home here and that’s something to be proud of. Cheerio,’ he said and he shuffled out into the May sunshine.

  With just over two weeks to go until Carly’s wedding Beth’s living room was full to bursting with her amassed gang of wedding helpers. She laid the mobile phone on the arm of the sofa while everyone shuffled forward in their seats. ‘Can you hear me, Carly?’ she asked.

  ‘Loud and clear,’ came the reply from the carefully balanced phone.

  ‘Great. We need to take it in turns to speak because she won’t be able to hear us if we all speak at once, okay?’ said Beth and everyone nodded, which meant they’d understood but wasn’t very helpful to Carly on the other end of the line.

  ‘Right, my update is that I think I’ve found a bridesmaid’s dress for you, Beth,’ said Carly followed by a small squeak of delight. ‘I’ll send you a photo when I’ve worked out how to do that, all right?’

  ‘Great.’ Beth was wondering how they were going to check it fitted ahead of the wedding, but she simply added it to the already very long list on her lap. ‘Maureen and Barbara, let’s have a cake update,’ she said.

  ‘Too early to bake a sponge,’ said Maureen.

  ‘I’ve been making rose petals all week,’ declared Barbara, clapping her hands together and leaving them there as if in prayer. ‘I’ve discovered how to make gerberas and I’m having a go at those this week!’ Barbara looked excited at the prospect; Maureen rolled her eyes and huffed. Beth nodded encouragingly at them both.

  ‘Jack, how about you?’

  He put his fingers together in a steeple and pursed his lips. Beth felt tension in her shoulders. ‘I can’t get a big marquee, I’ve tried everywhere and there’s nothing available …’ There was a gasp from the phone, which was helpful because it reminded Beth that Carly was still there. ‘Sooo I spoke to this guy I know and he hires tents and yurts for festivals; glamping, that sort of thing, and he had a festival booking for that weekend but they’ve let him down saying they hadn’t pre-sold enough tents.’ Jack noticed the glazed expressions around him and the silent phone. ‘Anyway I thought perhaps we could link a load of tents together, what do you think?’ Belatedly he pointed at the phone and the eyes in the room moved in the same direction.

  ‘Really, there’s nothing else?’ asked Carly, her voice almost a whimper.

  ‘I think it could be really cool and different, in a good way,’ said Beth, looking at Jack, who nodded earnestly. ‘Could we string up bunting and fairy lights?’ Beth asked.

  ‘I can make bunting. It’s really easy with a sewing machine and I always keep spare bits of material,’ said one lady and a chorus of ‘me too’ followed.

  There was a small but positive disembodied voice from the phone. ‘I like bunting and fairy lights.’

  ‘Sure, we can make it fabulous, Carly. Trust me?’ said Jack, leaning forward and addressing the phone directly.

  ‘Okay,’ came the same small voice.

  ‘Great. My other thing is cars and I’m … um, still sorting that one out,’ said Jack before mouthing to Beth, ‘It’s not good. I’ll talk to you later.’ Beth gave him a look that she hoped conveyed that she would reluctantly speak to him. She knew she was punishing Jack for far too long over not telling her about Leo’s disappearance but keeping Jack at a distance seemed the sensible thing to do, especially when she would hopefully be moving out of Dumbleford very soon, and Jack was a potential complication she could do without.

  One of the ladies on the sofa glanced up from her mobile phone. ‘I’ve got WI Craft Club on to the bunting, they’ll keep making yards of it out of scraps until we tell them to stop,’ she said, looking rather pleased with herself.

  ‘Scraps!’ came an alarmed squeak from the mobile phone.

  Chloe stood up. ‘I need to get back to the pub but my boyfriend has the videoing all covered. He’s borrowing some state-of-the-art camera from college, which is all above board before you ask,’ she said, tipping her head in Petra’s direction. ‘And he’s going to wear a GoPro; that way you’ll get some really cool angled stuff too that he’ll edit in afterwards.’

  ‘GoPro?’ came the flabbergasted voice from the phone. ‘This is a wedding, not an extreme sport!’

  ‘It is when you try to arrange it in four weeks,’ said Beth coolly into the phone. ‘Right, moving on to …’ She checked her sheet and scrutinized the four women huddled on one sofa. ‘Sally, Kath, Donna, Julia and the flowers.’

  Flowers seemed to be all over the place with each of the four ladies having their own ideas about bouquets and church flowers and none of them fitting particularly well with Carly’s thoughts of simple, pretty and scented. Ernie seemed to lose interest at this point and left and Beth vowed to find something that he could get involved in.

  Next up were Rhonda and Petra who between them had the catering and drinks all sewn up.

  ‘If we’re having tents how about a Boy Scout campfire theme, hot dogs, sausages, chipolatas that sort of thing?’ suggested Rhonda, nodding her head excitedly, and there were murmurs of agreement in the room.

  ‘God, no!’ said Carly. ‘We’re vegetarians!’

  ‘Oh,’ said Rhonda, instantly dispirited. ‘Not even little vegetarian cocktail sausages?’

  ‘No!’ Carly was obviously close to the mouthpiece because it came out as a shout and everyone jumped. She sounded like she was in full-on Bridezilla mode now.

  Beth picked up the phone and took it off loudspeaker. ‘Hang on a mo,’ she said, leaving the room, and the buzz of disgruntled chatter rose behind her.

  ‘Carls, come on, these people are doing you a huge favour …’

  ‘But I don’t want favours, I want the perfect wedding, well, as near perfect as we can get in four weeks. I am seriously compromising here already,’ said Carly, sounding quite rational. ‘Rehabilitated festival tents, scraps for bunting and a GoPro video,’ she added to emphasize her point. Someone knocked at the door and Beth headed in that direction but still speaking to Carly as she went.

  ‘I know,’ said Beth, ‘and it will be perfect. Perhaps you need to use a bit of imagination.’

  She opened the door to Ernie. ‘Shirley’s got a camera and car,’ he said loudly and she had to move the phone away from her ear when Carly let out a frustrated shriek.

  Beth had just dropped Leo at the pub so she could go to her evening class when Jack intercepted her heading for the moped. ‘Hiya, Beth. Did you want a lift to college?’

  ‘Thanks, but I’m fine,’ said Beth, keeping it civil but not over-friendly.

  ‘Oh, come on. I wanted to talk to you about the wedding and if I’m going to college too …’ Beth turned to lo
ok at him. He was wearing dark fitted jeans and a black T-shirt and he’d shaved, which was a change from his usual rough stubbly appearance that she quite liked. ‘It’s not good for the environment, two vehicles doing the same trip,’ he said, followed by his usual lopsided smile. Beth felt herself smiling in response and stopped herself. What was it about Jack that made her want to smile?

  ‘You’re right,’ she said. ‘I hate it that you are right, by the way,’ she added, walking past him and over to where his car was parked on the edge of the green. The trees had scattered their blossom all over it as if there had already been a wedding.

  Beth liked the longer days and she watched the ducks having a bath in the ford as Jack joined her and unlocked the car. The first couple of minutes of the journey they sat in silence and Beth was for the first time thinking how close you were to someone when you were in a car and how nice Jack smelled. It was a mingling of freshly washed man and aftershave and it was making her stomach tighten. She chuckled to herself.

  ‘What?’ asked Jack.

  ‘I had a text from Carly earlier. She’s struggling with autocorrect.’

  ‘Was it a howler?’