by Leah Fleming
Mel held her hand. ‘It couldn’t happen to a better couple,’ she said.
‘I’m not so sure. We’re not exactly very civilised. The house is cramped and damp in the winter. There’ll have to be changes and a baby will shake both of us up but it’s a gift out of the blue and I do want the best for it.’
‘Did you have a big family?’ Mel asked – Pippa never talked about her past.
‘I had a nanny and a pony, a mother who died when I was at school and a father who was never there. You can sometimes have everything but love and attention,’ she replied. ‘Duke was brought up by grandparents, he doesn’t even remember his parents, so not exactly the best background for us to bring up a child, is it?’
‘Rubbish, it’s you who’ll do the best for the little one. You’re making me broody.’
‘It’s all the clothes and equipment, and I don’t want it stuck in a drawer for a cradle. We’ve never had to think of anyone but ourselves and we do live from hand to mouth.’ Pippa was in tears. ‘How will we manage? I do want to do things right.’
‘What’s that supposed to mean?’ Mel could see Pippa was struggling to take in her new condition.
‘Maybe it’s my upbringing but I don’t want my baby to be a bastard like Duke was. I want us to get married before it comes… Am I going mad? I can’t believe I said that!’
‘Lots of children are born to couples who are cohabiting, there’s no shame in that any more, Pippa. You are happy as you are, why change things?’ Mel was puzzled.
Pippa shook her head. ‘No, if this is a gift, I want us to be a respectable couple, and have a christening. I know it sounds silly coming from me, the hippy, dippy Pippa, but I think this is Philippa Columbine Marianne Delamere coming out in me.’
‘Have you spoken to Duke?’ Mel could not believe what Pippa was saying. Pippa was always laid back and Duke could be horizontal at times. She hadn’t even known her full name until now.
Pippa shrugged her shoulders at Mel’s question. ‘I don’t know how he’ll react… we’ve never bothered to discuss marriage. It’s always sounded so uncool, bourgeois, but perhaps I am my father’s daughter after all. What do you think?’
Mel couldn’t reply straight off because in Italian and Greek culture marriage was the normal way to raise children. She sensed for the first time that Pippa was feeling the burden of her upper-class upbringing. Such things went deeper than she had ever acknowledged. ‘You must talk it out with Duke. The civil ceremonies here can take some organisation but you’ve got time enough to talk to him. Explain what’s bugging you. I know he’ll be sympathetic. You’ve been together so long.’
‘True,’ Pippa said. ‘From now on it won’t be just two of us but three of us. How will we cope?’
‘We’ll all help you out in any way we can. Go home and talk it through with him.’
Pippa left her lemonade and it was then that Mel could see the bump under her T-shirt. How strange she had never noticed her guitarist putting on weight. Duke was a free spirit and a law unto himself. She wondered how he’d react to being a married man.
*
Sara sat once more on the veranda of Ariadne’s villa. It was a relief to be back in its warmth but she was feeling guilty that she had forgotten all the garden chores she promised to do before she left, and there was no sign of Griff returning to water plants. Gardens didn’t rate high on her agenda now that she was here to start her business in earnest, but this was now her own rental home so she must make an effort to tidy up the parched plants that had died. It was beginning to look like a desert, dusty and forlorn.
The past weeks in Sheffield had been a blur of preparations so that she could come back fully in control of all the information needed for permissions to marry abroad.
She had a domain name and a website being organised for her. Competition on the web was fearsome, with so many packages that alarmed her until she realised that no one was offering Santaniki as a destination. She was going to advise most of her clients to have a civil ceremony in the UK first and a symbolic ceremony here on the island but she needed to find perfect locations for photography shots before she lifted off. There was no time to allow mistakes. Pouring her heart out to Mel over supper in the taverna, she was still dithering about her decision. ‘Have I thought of everything?’
Mel was looking across to Spiro. ‘What if a resident here wants to marry? How would you deal with that? They can’t go over to the UK to a registrar’s office. With residence permits, couples are entitled to a civil ceremony here. You need to offer to give them your services too. We happen to know a couple who might just want this but on a very tight budget… Could you help them?’
That sent Sara into a panic. ‘I’m not sure I’ve got those details under my belt yet.’ At least she was being honest. ‘The event party would be no problem. I could customise to their ideas and budget but you will have to guide me through all the regulations and the translation work I need.’
‘We can find you a translator but a try-out might be a start for you.’
‘Is it anybody I know?’
‘It’s all a bit hush-hush yet but we’ll let you know if it’s a goer… We can’t speak out of turn but it will be an interesting challenge for you to cut your teeth on.’
Sara shook her head. ‘Here’s me thinking it would be easy-peasy to start up here but there’s more to this wedding business than I ever thought. Perhaps I should stick to just parties and catering.’ She felt nervous and disheartened, her confidence rocking. Had she made a big mistake in coming back here?
‘I don’t think you could make a living just from parties here. One thing at a time: get your facts in order, talk to the mayor, find suppliers, check them out. Have your hair and nails done in the town and pass around your business cards in Greek and English.’ Trust Mel to give her an honest opinion.
‘I’ll have to find a Greek teacher, and soon. I can’t go relying on you two to translate for me. There’s so much to do and I have no business cards.’ How could she forget promotional material as simple as a business card? There was location work to do and photography shots.
‘And you still have your business back home to run,’ Mel added.
‘Not exactly, Karen is taking over from me, I hope, in the long term. For the moment though, I will still organise some business from here.’ What have I done? she screamed to herself, her heart thumping with anxiety.
‘Then you’ll have to make it happen, won’t you?’ Spiro wasn’t listening, distracted by a smell of burning coming from the kitchen.
‘Mama!’ He rushed out, hearing the smoke alarm. His mother emerged, waving a burnt towel. ‘Po… po… po.’ Mel rushed in with him to see the damage. It was just a burnt pan this time – her eyes were rolling with exasperation but she said nothing for once.
Sara knew it was time to leave. There were endless lists to make of all the things she had forgotten to explore. Time to find beach shots, venues for romantic angles, but who could she ask to guide her? There was one guy who came to mind. She was not even certain he would oblige but needs must when the devil drives.
September
12
After the open mic night at the taverna, as they were clearing their kit away, Duke sidled up to Griff. ‘Fancy a pint?’
Griff nodded, knowing there was no course to supervise and it was one of those starlit skies with a warm breeze, a night for lingering. Pippa had gone back uphill and the two of them had hardly spoken all night. Something was wrong. He did hope they weren’t going to split. ‘Everything okay?’ he asked, plonking himself down again. ‘I thought Pippa looked tired and very quiet for once.’
Duke poured his Mythos into a glass. ‘She sprung one on me the other day,’ he said. ‘She’s pregnant, more than halfway, they reckon, and now she tells me she wants to get hitched… At our age…’
‘Congratulations, but it sounds as if you’re not too keen.’ Griff shook his hand.
‘Don’t get me wrong about the baby, neve
r thought we’d ever have a sprog, but it changes things.’ Duke sat back. ‘I can’t take it all in and it’s not like her to go all legit on me. Marriage is a big step I’m not sure about.’
Griff didn’t feel like a Relate counsellor – who was he to advise anyone? – but he felt honoured that Duke had confided his misgivings to him. ‘I suppose being parents feels like a new adventure and perhaps Pippa wants to feel secure,’ he offered.
‘She’s reverted to type. You can take some of the past out of your life but once a posh girl… She wants to do things proper.’ Duke was trying to explain his confusion.
‘And you?’
‘I’m just a mixed race working-class lad, born out of wedlock. Never knew my parents, brought up by my gran. Marriage was never anything I reckoned to bother about and neither did she until this. She wants the baby brought up like she was. I understand that but I don’t want to go down some aisle in a tuxedo, all doodied up.’ Duke shook his head.
‘It doesn’t have to be like that. Folk have all sorts of weddings these days and you can make it your style. Do the legal stuff at the town hall and then have the biggest bash you can think of to celebrate this unexpected arrival.’ Griff was thinking off the top of his head, not sure if it was going to be any help at all.
‘You got a point, man. I was afraid of all that formal stuff. Pippa must have been to posh dos in fancy hats and frocks but she left all that behind when we got together.’
‘Exactly, so talk it over with her, suggest some ideas and I bet she’ll be relieved and come up with ideas of her own.’
‘Thanks, mate, you’ve given me another way of thinking about it. Nothing needs to change much, just a party with music, dancing, friends, and no need to stand on ceremony is there… Although knowing Pippa, she’ll want some sort of blessing, a few words to match the occasion, not that I’m much good at that,’ Duke said, leaning forward, looking relieved.
‘I could help you if you like.’ Griff was glad that Duke was buying into the idea and taking some responsibility.
‘I’d better get back and sort this out between us. The atmosphere’s been a bit frosty of late.’ Duke leapt up. ‘You’ve taken a load off my mind. I owe you.’
Griff stayed staring up at the stars and listening to the bell owl hooting in the distance. At least someone was happier for his suggestions, not that he had any experience of weddings except for his brother’s big bash. They’d made a good fist of it, with church bells and a marquee on the lawn, everyone in morning suits and huge hats. Flissa had been his girl then and enjoyed every second.
Yet he felt a strange tinge of envy thinking of the joys ahead for them. Not two beans to rub together in the world’s eyes but he sensed this would be a family where love provided all the wealth necessary.
*
Next morning, he was surprised to see Sara Loveday stroll up the drive. Spartacus, now fully recovered, bounded down to greet her. ‘Don’t worry, he’s very friendly, just curious.’
‘Sorry to bother you but Mel said you might be able to help me.’
Griff paused in his pruning. Sara was wearing cut-off jeans, a skinny top and sun hat.
‘If I can – want a coffee?’ She nodded and followed him into the main house.
‘Wow, this is quite a place!’ she said, staring at the portrait of Elodie Durrante in the hallway. ‘Ah, this is the famous novelist? She reminds me of Agatha Christie in her latter days.’
‘Don’t be fooled by her grandeur, the old girl was a game old broad in her day. She had more lovers than days in the week, I’m told, and judging by her memoir, she kept them all in line. This foundation owes everything to her generosity.’
‘The house is very quiet today. Mel told me you were booked up.’ Sara was peering into rooms, curious about the building.
‘Next week will have full occupancy with some romantic novelists coming; Lacey Sweetlove is running a workshop. Have you heard of her?’
‘She’s in every supermarket and bookshop but I’ve only read one once. They’re good if you like lots of hot sex,’ she laughed. ‘It should be an interesting course.’
‘Oh yes, Don will have a field day. He’s staying on to work, or so he says. I think he’s hoping for some practical lessons from her, the old rogue.’ Griff grinned, pointing to a man toes-up under a sunshade.
They took their coffee into the shade of the olive grove. Sara looked round. ‘It’s just that I’m looking for photogenic venues for my new brochure. This is a fabulous situation, set on a hill with a sea view and a vine-covered terrace.’
‘For your brochure, are you a holiday rep?’ Griff was curious.
‘No, I’m just doing a recce as I have an idea for a business out here. It’s early doors yet but Mel suggested you might have noticed some good spots on your travels.’
Griff paused to admire her enthusiasm. ‘What’s it all for?’
Sara hesitated, looking at him with large, amber-green eyes and a freckled nose. ‘I was an events manager in Sheffield but I think that weddings on this island would be good for tourism and local traders. Every other island has bespoke packages; they give the couples an idyllic experience, the whole works: photographs to remember for a lifetime in beautiful vistas… that sort of thing.’ She sipped her coffee and fell silent, waiting for him to make a comment, but what was there to say?
‘What’s your USP, your unique angle to all this?’ he asked. Hoping it wasn’t some half-baked scheme that had no foundations.
‘I’ll specialise in second time around weddings; families wanting to have a symbolic ceremony surrounded by their children and friends, gay marriages and anyone wanting a very romantic setting with a private ceremony.’
‘I see.’ Griff could only imagine crowds of rowdy tourists invading beaches. It all sounded a bit naff but he said nothing.
‘I mean, just look at this garden in the olive grove,’ she continued. ‘Imagine what it could look like trimmed up with lights and garlands. Is it available for renting out?’
‘Not sure, the trustees would have to decide that.’ Griff didn’t want folk trampling over his garden leaving beer cans and litter, disturbing the ecosystem.
‘Where else do you think would make a beach wedding setting?’
‘Depends on the time of year. The beach gets crowded in the season and I’m not sure I can help you over that, Miss Loveday.’
‘Sara, please.’ She sensed his disapproval and rose quickly. ‘Thank you for your time, it was just an idea. I could imagine a lovely woodland wedding here, very private with fairy lights at dusk, a midsummer night’s dream setting.’
Griff saw the dreamy look of hope in her eye. He couldn’t bear to stamp on her romantic schemes but then he had an idea. ‘Strictly between ourselves, I know a local couple who might use your services but it wouldn’t be the usual frilly frock affair but something suited to them.’
‘Really? That’s the second time that’s been mentioned to me. It would be exactly what I’m looking for to make a client’s day special.’
‘I could speak to them, not promising anything, mind, it would have to be very modest. I hear some wedding packages can be extortionately expensive.’
‘Tell me about it… I went to a wedding fair in Sheffield and was shocked at the prices some agencies charged. I want to get my business off the ground and for that my rates would be at least half price, even less for a special deal.’
‘How long are you on the island?’ Griff asked, seeing her face beaming with interest at his suggestion.
‘As long as it takes… Nothing to keep me in Sheffield any more,’ she said with a sigh. For a second Griff wondered what Sara was running away from to pitch up here, leaving her business back there.
‘It’s just that this event might be sooner rather than later and I know residents need permits and certifications just as those coming from abroad do. That might take some time,’ Griff advised.
‘Thanks for this, Griff. Bear me in mind if they might be interested. I c
ould be very reasonable as it will be a chance to start up in a quiet way.’
‘It would be no hole-in-the-wall sort of nuptial as they have loads of friends, but I’ll speak to them, if you like. It’s up to them to take it from there.’
‘Of course,’ she replied.
He watched her almost skipping down the drive, waving a farewell and feeling a twinge of both pleasure and lust. Who could ignore those long legs in denim shorts? He was getting as bad as Don. Griff hoped he had been discreet. It was up to Sara Loveday to prove her talent in organising something memorable for his friends. Word of mouth was the best advertisement for any business. He hoped Sara knew how to deal with free spirits like Pippa and Duke. They might prove to be a challenge with some very whacky ideas.
13
Sara was making inroads to the weeding in the olive garden when the doorbell rang and there was Mel’s friend, Pippa, on the doorstep. ‘Can I have a word?’
‘Come through, I’ll find us a drink. It’s nearly wine o’clock.’
‘Oh no, I can’t.’ Pippa patted her stomach. ‘Her ladyship can’t have it.’
‘Lemonade it is then… Congratulations, I wouldn’t have guessed,’ Sara said. Pippa’s tanned face looked radiant.
‘Everyone’s being very discreet but I gather Griff hinted that there might be a wedding in the offing.’
It was no use being coy, thought Sara. ‘Actually, he never said who were the lucky couple. He told you I was starting up a wedding planning business then?’
‘It’s not as if we couldn’t do it all ourselves.’ Sara could see Pippa was relieved to sit down. ‘But I’m no spring chicken these days and get tired so easily and I want us to celebrate before her ladyship’s arrival…’
‘And Duke, what does he think?’
‘Formal stuff isn’t his bag. We just want a simple ceremony but I told him if we were going to do it at all, it must be totally legit, no jumping over the brush. I want all our friends to join in. I know we have to present documentation to the mayor but we are residents and we pay our dues. That bit Mel and Spiro are helping us with but time is of the essence. We want it done as soon as possible. What do you think?’
