The Wedding Shop on Wexley Street

Home > Other > The Wedding Shop on Wexley Street > Page 12
The Wedding Shop on Wexley Street Page 12

by Rachel Dove


  He indicated, turning the van down past the sign. The road was narrow, well-maintained, with thick trees at either side. The light in the van darkened as they drove, the weak winter sunlight failing to crack through the thick branches above them.

  ‘Be nice here when it snows, I bet, as long as you don’t mind being holed up.’ Maria nodded to herself, smiling at the thought of being in a hotel while the snow fell outside. Would she ever have that again? It was hard to think of someone whisking her off for a romantic weekend with a baby in tow. Who would take that on? She rubbed her tummy, feeling guilty for thinking of the baby that way. Her mother never had, and she wasn’t about to either. She was happy with her decision, despite the circumstances.

  ‘You okay? I told you I could have come here on my own, you know. I could have FaceTimed you.’

  Maria shook her head, tapping the clipboard she held in her hands. ‘So you would have gone through my checklist, all on your own?’

  James looked at the pages and pages of typed notes she had printed off and winced.

  ‘Maybe not. I would probably have just checked they did a nice beer on tap, and what time the bar closed.’

  ‘See? You need me here, with you.’

  She looked out of the window, marvelling at the beautiful countryside. Westfield was beautiful, but this place was lovely, right on the outskirts of Harrogate.

  James looked at her, her tiny bump just visible through her long coat, and smiled.

  ‘Yeah, I do,’ he said softly.

  The venue, Keane Hall, was gorgeous, despite the obscured sign, which of course Maria mentioned. The owner, Mr Hugo Harrison, was more than accommodating and agreed to cut down the foliage before the big day. Everything else had passed muster so far, and now they were sitting in the main dining hall, waiting for their starter. Mr Harrison had insisted they dine at the restaurant there, to taste the food, and of course Maria had agreed, being the professional. She was pretty hungry anyway, but her stomach was complaining of more than hunger.

  Being here, in this hall, sitting at this table, she could now imagine the wedding she was planning, and it was making her feel nauseous. She had managed to pretty much avoid Mark altogether, and he certainly hadn’t tried to contact her. Annabel kept in touch with emails, but she was trying to stay away, Maria knew, for the sake of her own sanity and to keep the bridezilla tendencies at bay. James had been a godsend, helping her, but the closer their friendship got, the more Maria worried about the big day. And when it was over, what then? Would she finally be able to relax, when the Chance family, and Mark, were in her rear-view mirror? The thought of not speaking to James filled her stomach with knots of dread too. It had to happen, though, she knew that. Especially when the baby came. There would just be too many questions. She couldn’t risk it all coming out, and James hating her. Especially if he got to know her child. That wouldn’t do at all. She couldn’t let anybody into her child’s life she wasn’t sure would be there for good.

  No, she would stick to the plan.

  ‘So, what are your plans now?’ James asked, pouring iced water into both of their glasses. The table was set up beautifully: candlelit candelabra and shiny silver cutlery on white linen tablecloths. The hall itself was bright and welcoming, with a large feature window on one wall, letting the light flood in. They did the bigger events – like the Smith-Chance wedding – in here. It would be lovely, she could see it now.

  ‘Plans?’ she asked, taking a sip of water to collect her thoughts. Did I speak out loud?

  ‘Yeah, I know you said you didn’t want me to help with the upstairs, but I just wondered if you had any plans for when the baby comes. Did you ring someone to help? Have you thought about where you’ll live?’

  ‘I… no, not really. Cass says I can stay with her, of course, but with Tucker still recovering there, it’s a bit awkward. She’s still on the couch because I have her spare room. I offered to share my bed with her, but apparently I’m a kicker in my sleep these days.’

  James nodded. ‘So no plans to move above the shop?’

  Maria frowned. ‘I haven’t really called anyone yet. Lynn has been clearing things out up there, but it’s not really ideal. Pushchairs and everything are going to take up space.’

  ‘Why not rent somewhere?’

  Maria shook her head. ‘I can’t really afford to rent a house round here, and there aren’t many flats in Westfield. I’ll sort something out. Once the baby comes, I plan on getting back to work, and hopefully this wedding will start to bring some bookings in, once word gets around. I can bring the baby to work with me in the shop, and Lynn said she’ll help when I have an event.’

  James nodded. ‘I have a house, you know, in Harrogate.’

  ‘To rent out? I couldn’t afford to rent a house, James. Especially not in Harrogate.’

  ‘No,’ he laughed. ‘I mean I own a house, I live in it. Our grandmother left us a decent bit of money when she passed, and I bought before the housing bubble burst. Annabel lives with Mark again now, so it’s just me. It’s a three-bedroomed house, Maria. I was thinking that if you needed somewhere, you could come stay with me.’

  The waiter chose that moment to bring them their melon starters, making a fuss of asking if they wanted to change their minds about the wine, checking they had enough bread. James was polite, answering the waiter’s questions, thanking him. Maria had a flashback to when she had last dined out with Darcy. The waitress had been a bubbly girl, eager to please, probably warned by her boss to give them the star treatment. Darcy had been dismissive from the start, lowering himself to downright rude by the time the dessert trolley was wheeled out. The poor girl looked close to tears several times, and she remembered how embarrassed she had felt, how ashamed her mother would have been of his treatment of that girl.

  Everyone has to earn a crust, she used to say, echoing the words her late husband had used. Don’t treat them like they aren’t even worthy of your crumbs. It was something that was ringing in her head all through the meal. How had she forgotten that? His sneering attitude sometimes, the looks of derision he gave some of the people they met. It was the part of him she hadn’t liked, but often overlooked. The side that came from his mother.

  ‘Maria, you need anything?’

  James and the waiter were both looking at her expectantly.

  ‘No,’ she said, shaking her head. ‘Thank you very much. It’s lovely.’

  The waiter smiled and moved away, dealing with one of the few other diners in the room who were just now coming in.

  ‘So, they use this room for weddings on a weekend, and they will, of course, accommodate all the guests, and the honeymoon suite will be included.’

  Maria glanced at her clipboard, wondering if she had covered everything the couple wanted.

  ‘Did you hear me?’

  Maria sighed. ‘Yes, I heard you, James, and it’s incredibly generous, but I can’t—’

  ‘Don’t answer yet. Think about it. Come and see the house, if you like. You have time yet.’

  She pressed her lips together. She couldn’t do it, even if she wanted to. How would that be? The baby was related to him, in a loose, by-marriage way. Or soon would be. It would be far too weird. She wanted to tell him, thanks, but no thanks. Explain to him why she couldn’t do it, why she had to keep her distance, because one day soon they would have to part ways, and the thought of it was more than a little sad to her. She felt tears prick at her eyes and blinked them away quickly. Bloody hormones. No wine, and she cried at the drop of a hat. Hard to keep a ‘lying to everyone’ poker face up with that. Not very Ocean’s Eleven, snotting over everyone you had to fib to.

  ‘Okay. I have time.’

  He smiled at her, his pearly white teeth flashing between his full lips, and her heart bumped a little extra beat. Shame, she thought to herself, pushing the thought away.

  After dessert, the owner had arranged for one of the porters to show them the rooms where the guests would be staying, and the honeymoon s
uite, which was on the very top floor of the hotel.

  Maria was still feeling full from lunch, and more than a little bit tired. Apparently, at this stage, she should have started feeling full of energy, but she was pretty sure the info she’d read online was actually a crock of shit. She felt like she would never feel bright-eyed and bushy-tailed ever again. Her boobs were swollen and sore, with huge veins starting to show under the surface, and her clothes were all starting to feel the strain of her expanding waistband. Not helped by Tucker’s cooking, which was wolfed down by her and Cassie every night. He cooked low-fat meals, but there were always seconds, and thirds. She was grateful, of course, because without him still living at Cassie’s, she would have ended up giving birth to a pizza baby. But still… She couldn’t get rid of the niggling feeling that, soon, both the men helping her in life would be gone, and that left her alone. Lynn and Cassie were there of course, but Lynn had her own life, and Cassie was as busy as ever. Soon enough, it would be her and a small, defenceless child. She needed to pull herself together.

  The three of them – James, Maria and the porter, an affable young lad called Gavin, with mild acne and bright ginger hair – all headed in the lift to the top of the hotel, where the honeymoon suite was. As soon as the lift doors closed, Maria suddenly felt very claustrophobic, and lightheaded. She started to fan herself with the clipboard, using the half-ream of paper attached to waft around the stale air. The lift trundled along, the lights for each floor pinging ever so slowly.

  James looked at her, his face full of concern.

  ‘Maria, you okay?’

  ‘Yeah,’ she said, waving her hand to reassure him. It flicked lethargically in his direction. ‘I’m just gonna… er… nap…’

  She passed out cold, the clipboard clattering to the carpeted floor as her legs gave way under her. James grabbed for her, just catching her before she hit the deck.

  ‘In here,’ she heard a voice say. She was floating and giggled at the sensation.

  She saw a white door in front of her, and she was cradled in something warm, and strong. She could feel the power beneath her, but she felt protected, safe. The door opened, a flash of red in the corner of her eye. She tried to follow it, but soon regretted it.

  ‘I don’t feel so good,’ she murmured, and felt the cradle around her tighten.

  ‘I’ve got you, it’s okay,’ James said softly. His voice sounded strange, not the usual relaxed tone she had got used to. ‘Call an ambulance, now.’

  A vision of the hospital, the stark white room, the photographers, Darcy, sprang Maria from her stupor.

  ‘No!’ she shouted, trying to stand. ‘No ambulance, please.’

  James sat down on the bed, with her still in his arms. She was coming round fast, her body feeling hot and sweaty, her hip hurting from where she had banged it collapsing in the lift.

  She tried to stand, but James’s grasp was firm.

  ‘Just give it a minute. Gavin, forget the call for now. Can we just have a glass of water, please.’

  Gavin, looking white as a sheet and obviously cursing his job choice today, garbled something at them and ran off down the corridor.

  ‘I think I scared him,’ she said glumly, feeling her body come to. ‘I’m fine, honestly. I think it was just the heat. My mother warned me about this. She was just the same with me, but I never really imagined what it would be like.’

  ‘You scared me. Again,’ he said, looking straight into her eyes. ‘I bet you haven’t been taking your iron tablets and had no breakfast. You need to let people take care of you, Mar, and look after yourself and the baby.’ His blue-green eyes were quite a bright green close up. They were really pretty. Sparkly, even. She could see her own face in them, her dazed expression mirrored in an emerald sea.

  ‘Your eyes are lovely, do you know that?’ she blurted. His brows lifted, making them pop all the more.

  ‘Yours aren’t so bad either.’ She could smell the chocolate from the pudding they had just eaten. It tasted sweet, mixed with his aftershave, a lemony scent that reminded her of when her mother cleaned the house in summer. A homey smell that centred her.

  ‘Are you really okay?’ he pressed, adjusting her slightly in his arms so she could sit up a little. He didn’t let go of her legs, and she made no move to sit up.

  ‘I will start looking after myself, I promise. I just need to get this wedding taken care of. I’m fine, honestly. I’m sorry I’m such a drama queen. I bet you rue the day you took my call.’

  He stroked his fingers along her back, and she felt her nerve endings come to life.

  ‘No, not at all. I’m glad I answered. Maria, I—’

  Gavin burst into the room, slamming into the already ajar door with such force that the doorstop sent it flying back into him, bopping him on the nose.

  ‘Ouch! Here, I got you some water, and I brought the first-aid kit. Mr Harrison is on his way.’

  He held out a large green box and a bottle of Evian, hands trembling. The poor lad looked like he was about to join her in keeling over. James reached for the water, and Maria took the opportunity to slide her legs from over his and take a seat on the bed next to him. Mr Harrison came into the room then, casting a confused look Gavin’s way before putting his best beaming smile forward.

  ‘I heard you were unwell, Miss Mallory. I do hope you’re okay now?’

  He was obviously panicking, and she clicked why. Of course. Her name had been all over the papers since the wedding and her dash to hospital. The poor man had started out looking forward to a nice, easy wedding booking, but now his hotel was going to be plastered all over the papers.

  ‘I’m fine. I just got a little hot, that’s all. Nothing you did. You and Gavin have been lovely, and the meal was gorgeous. I think we will be booking the wedding here; I just need to confirm with my clients. I’ll be in touch.’

  Hugo Harrison’s shoulders sagged with relief and, stepping forward, he shook her hand.

  ‘Excellent, that’s all wonderful news. Well, I shall leave you to look around. Gavin, will you see them out when they’re ready?’

  Gavin nodded, eyes wide in terror. ‘Yes, sir,’ he squeaked. Poor kid.

  Mr Harrison nodded to him to follow him out of the door, and they both left. Hushed voices could be heard in the corridor.

  James passed her the water and she took it, taking a big glug.

  ‘Oh, thanks, that’s better.’

  James put the first-aid kit down on the bed, looking around at the room for the first time. The suite itself was lovely, a big four-poster bed in the centre of the room, ornate furnishings in light, airy colours. Just off the bedroom, an open archway led to the bathroom. Maria could see a claw-foot tub, a trolley full of high-end toiletries and plush towels filling it.

  ‘Nice, eh?’ James said, slowly pulling her to her feet. He’d picked up her bag when he caught her, and he passed it to her now. She pushed the bottle of water into it and nodded.

  ‘It’s lovely.’

  ‘I kind of carried you over the threshold into here, you know,’ he said, his expression suddenly mischievous. ‘A bit romantic really, if you think about it. Minus the fainting on me, of course.’

  ‘Oh, really?’ She walked over to the bathroom, peeping her head around the corner to check the rest of the room. She felt sturdy on her legs, thank God. Her dizzy spell had passed. She was going to have to stop getting so stressed. The next time, she might not be so lucky. The last thing she wanted was to be back in hospital on a drip.

  ‘Yep, I full-on carried you from the lift, like a scene from Backdraft. I always fancied being a fireman.’

  She giggled, till the image of him striding out of a burning building all sweaty and covered in soot sprang into her mind, and the laughter turned into a strangled gasp in her throat. Mamma Mia!

  He opened the closet doors and they both peered in together. ‘Yep, I really did. Till I decided that being an electrician and rescuing damsels in distress was much more important.’

>   Maria rolled her eyes. ‘You’re such a goofball.’

  He grinned, waggling his eyebrows. ‘And you love it.’

  She looked away, busying herself with her clipboard. This was getting too friendly. He carried me over the threshold? She remembered the feeling she’d had when she came to, in his arms. Had Darcy ever made her feel like that? If he had, she was hard pressed to remember it now. James had sat her down on the bed, in his arms, after carrying her into the honeymoon suite. She needed to get the hell out of there.

  ‘Right, I’m done. Shall we go?’ She pushed the clipboard back under her arm, all business when she looked back at him. He looked at her for a long moment before replying.

  ‘Sure, Mar, I’ll take you home.’

  ***

  Maria was lying in the tub that night, the suds high all around her as she contemplated her day. She had called the midwife about her dizzy spell, and she was due to go in to the doctor’s the next morning to have everything checked. She felt fine now, but she didn’t want to risk anything happening to the baby. She knew what they would say: too much stress, not enough food or rest. She hadn’t been taking her iron tablets as she should have either. She needed to sort herself out.

  She was already imagining the little thing here now, getting used to the tiny button that had invaded her body, making it swell, stealing her food. There was a knock at the door and Cassie’s voice rang out.

  ‘Mar, can I come in?’

  ‘Yeah,’ Maria said, and Cassie came through the door, shutting it behind her and sitting on the closed toilet seat.

  ‘I’ve had an idea, you know.’

  ‘Oh?’

  ‘Yeah, well, I had a client today, and they’re getting divorced because he won’t get the kids christened. She really wants to do it before they get too old, but he’s refusing to give consent.’

  Maria looked at Cass, who was looking rather relaxed for once, a large glass of white wine in her hand. Her normally severe hairstyle had been blown out, her hair long and cascading down her shoulders, and instead of her usual sharp suit she was wearing a more feminine-cut, short-sleeved blouse and a pair of plum slacks.

 

‹ Prev