by Leah Fleming
Ajax and his cart arrived, now looking more like a wedding cart with white sheets and cushions on the bench. Katya had sweetened the floor with rosemary and thyme. Duke strolled down in a blue silk shirt and chinos with his dreadlocks tied back neatly. Then Pippa came down the stairs in her dress with a circlet of flowers round her hair – she looked radiant. ‘Will I do?’ she whispered to Mel.
‘You look like an earth mother,’ came the reply. There was a glow around Pippa that came not only from pregnancy but from happiness.
The donkey clomped down the street and neighbours came out to wish them well – chronia polla: many years – but the young driver still looked as if he’d come straight out of the farmyard. They paused while passers-by took videos. At one halt Pippa got off to stand in front of Ajax, smiling.
‘Look out,’ yelled the driver as Ajax took a chunk out of her bouquet. Everyone roared but Pippa was not amused. Griff, who was following behind with the other guests, caught the action. It was then that Mel noticed there was no other photographer in sight.
‘Where’s your photographer?’ she asked Sara.
Sara looked flushed. ‘He didn’t show. I got a garbled email to say he was not feeling well and had missed the ferry. What the hell am I going to do?’
‘Ask Griff. Look, he’s got his camera in his hand.’ Sara hurried off to catch up with him, not easy in a tight skirt. She was rushed off her feet. This was her first wedding and she was doing it almost for free so she could have genuine shots for her brochure. There would be plenty of mobile phone snapshots but they needed proper ones for the bride and groom.
Mel was hugging her own special gift. All those years ago she was afraid to sing in public. Setting up this band changed all that and she had found the perfect song and lyrics. They had roped in a local jazz band ready to play them into the garden on arrival and Sally would be waiting.
Mel was not prepared for how much detail had gone into the decorating of the old tent into this leafy bower. It was almost mediaeval. Their closest friends were gathering, sitting on chairs. The vicar stood in her robes. Mel noticed Chloë Bartlett, Simon’s wife, wearing a beautiful silk polka-dot dress, Simon himself looking smart in a pinstriped shirt. Della Fitzpatrick arrived on the ferry with her American boyfriend, Joe. The book group filled a row even without Dorrie Thorner eyeing up the proceedings for any mishaps.
She took her place beside Spiro and the boys as the little ceremony began. It was just a few words and a blessing. Duke’s adjusted ring was placed on Pippa’s finger without any problem. Pippa was tearful. Then it was time for Mel to stand up to the mic to sing Etta James’s great classic: ‘At last, my love has come along…’
Pippa and Duke kissed and everyone clapped as they turned to their friends to lead them down the path back to the veranda of the house.
‘Is that it? Not much of a ceremony,’ Irini complained, sitting in her best crimplene black and grey striped dress. ‘All that fuss for a few minutes.’
Mel ignored her as the drinks and nibbles, sugared almonds, nuts, little cheese pies and slivers of pâté on toast were passed around and everybody mingled. It was just as Pippa and Sara had planned but there was the delicate problem that no proper photographs were being taken.
*
At last Sara found Griff with Spartacus, clearing chairs away. ‘Griff, the photographer is not showing up and I desperately need to have some good portraits for my brochure. This is such a perfect setting… please can you help?’ she pleaded. Spartacus jumped up to greet her.
‘What, me take his place?’ he replied.
‘Mel said you would and I’m desperate. I tried to catch you up before.’ How could she explain her tight skirt and high heels had hampered her chasing him earlier.
‘Just a sec, hold the dog, I’ll fetch my camera. You’ll have to choose the angles. I take landscapes not portraits. I’m a purist and don’t trust just digitals but I’ll take from both.’ He disappeared, returning with his Pentax, not the latest range but it looked reliable.
‘You’re lucky, I’ve got space on the card still. You’ll need to gather the congregation again with the vicar to make sure we get a shot of everybody.’
‘Thanks.’ Sara tried to stay calm but felt foolish as she ushered bride and groom, guests and the vicar back into the garden amidst the flowers for a group shot. Then Griff ordered the guests to look as if it was the start of the ceremony, not the end.
Sara picked a spot on the veranda for the couple to sit in a relaxed pose, sipping fizz, but somehow Spartacus wheedled his way between them and it made a good shot. Then they posed the couple holding hands looking out over the sea, very cheesy but romantic. Griff photographed the table carefully recreated by their helpers to look informal, relaxed, taking in the colour, the texture, the scenic beauty. Sara knew it was a tall ask but Griff manfully took his orders from her.
‘I owe you,’ Sara said, grateful for his help.
‘Wait until you see them first,’ he replied. He did have a nice smile, Sara thought; good teeth – but that made her laugh, thinking of how judges eyed up horses in the Great Yorkshire Show. She bit it back and hoped that out of his pictures there would be some decent ones.
The afternoon drifted into a hazy evening. Mel, Spiro and Irini left to prepare for the evening feast and Sara felt the heat and tiredness because she’d forgotten to eat.
‘Here’s a cup of tea for you, it’s going to be a long night,’ Griff said. He pointed to the house. ‘It’s time for a siesta.’
‘I’d better go and check up with things at the taverna. I hope the wedding cake has arrived and nothing else goes wrong,’ she said, anxious to be on her way.
‘You worry too much, it’s been a splendid occasion, everybody smiling…’
‘It’s my job to do the worrying if I am to make a success of this business. I will have to sharpen up my act, be on call just in case… This event is just a rehearsal.’
‘Sit down,’ he ordered. ‘Three minutes won’t change anything. I hope you’ve hired a jeep to get you there,’ Griff checked, and she nodded.
‘I can’t thank you enough for stepping into the breach and I will pay for all the prints.’
‘Forget it, it was a pleasure to take them. Pippa and Duke looked so happy. I wish all weddings were like that,’ he said.
‘Sounds like you’ve seen your share of mishaps,’ Sara replied.
‘My cousin had the biggest nuptials in the county but six weeks later the bride eloped with one of her bridesmaids… how about you?’
Sara smiled, knowing she was not going to reveal her own sad experience. ‘They happen,’ she replied. ‘Too much planning, too much money, wanting to please parents, too much time on Pinterest, I suppose. I’d better get used to dramas and be prepared with tissues, counsellors and unpaid bills. I really must go.’ Her jeep was parked by the road. It was time to check at the taverna and escape Griff’s probing gaze and questions. He was the last person with whom she wanted to share her tale of woe.
*
Sandra and Jack were sitting at the tables that were spread out into the town square, watching the Cretan dancers leaping and turning. It felt special to be invited to this wedding party and the taverna was adorned with flowers and banners. Everyone was dressed to the nines in costumes of all shapes and colours. How different Greek women were to the British in their subdued linens and silks. Sandra was wearing her favourite sundress covered in red poppies. The bride wore her turquoise dress, floating like a galleon in full sail. They sat next to Mr and Mrs Bartlett who were very friendly and pointed out all the local expats.
‘Do you enjoy reading?’ Mrs Bartlett said.
‘All the time,’ Sandra replied. Resting up with a good book helped her fatigue fade away.
‘We have a book group once a month. Would you be interested in joining us?’ she added.
‘That sounds lovely, yes, but we are only here for a few more months.’
‘That’s what we all said but look at us
now. I’m Chloë and my husband’s Simon,’ she said. ‘The man on the end of the dancers is Spiro, Mel’s husband. He’s looking very fit.’
‘And very handsome,’ Sandra replied. They both giggled. ‘You’re not too old to notice, are you?’
It was the turn for the audience to get up and dance in circles. Sandra wasn’t sure she could manage but Jack pulled her up. ‘Let’s have a go and if you get out of breath…’
‘I think I’d better go to the ladies first,’ she said.
Sandra pushed her way to the toilet. Her bladder was unreliable but she was game for a few twirls as the music was the magnetic ‘Zorba’s Dance’.
There was only one woman in the loo, standing by the sink. It was the bride and she was staring down at a pool of water at her feet, looking shaken. ‘Where did that come from?’ she cried. ‘I’m soaking, my poor dress… I can’t go back in there. They’ll think I’ve wet myself.’
‘You have, love,’ Sandra replied. ‘Your waters have broken… it’s your time.’
‘But it can’t be, it’s too soon. I’ve got more weeks to go yet.’
‘Your baby thinks otherwise so you’d better sit down, but not in here.’ Sandra was taking control.
‘Can you fetch Mel? She’ll know what to do,’ Pippa said.
Sandra shot out of the toilet, searching for Mel in her lilac dress. She was about to go up to the mic to sing. ‘Mrs Papadaki,’ she tapped her on the arm, ‘I think you’d better come. It’s the bride, she’s going into labour,’ Sandra whispered
‘But she can’t! She’s still got weeks to go.’
‘This baby wants to come but I take your point… I was a nurse and the waters have broken so she needs to be seen to now in case of infection.’ Sandra spoke with urgency as they all made their way back to the loo. ‘Is there a doctor in here?’
Mel pointed to a man in spectacles and a lady in a silvery dress. ‘His wife is the midwife, slip over there and tell them.’ Sandra sidled over, recognising the two of them from the wedding procession. ‘Excuse me,’ she whispered. ‘Pippa Millar has gone into labour.’
All eyes were following the procession as the doctor, the midwife, Mel and Sandra headed in the direction of the ladies’ toilet, curious as to what was happening. Jack stood up. ‘You okay?’
‘I’m fine but there’s a bit of a drama in the ladies, that’s all.’ Sandra made her way towards the toilet then turned back. She did not want to interfere as the doctor and his wife were now in charge.
‘Someone better fetch Duke,’ Spiro said. Everyone knew Duke, the groom.
‘I’ll fetch him,’ Sandra offered, making a discreet exit, squeezing between guests to where the groom was busy congratulating the dancers.
‘Excuse me, but I think you are needed in the ladies, it’s your wife. The baby is coming.’
‘She okay?’ His dark eyes were filled with concern.
‘Don’t worry, the doctor and his wife are there. It’s all under control and I think it’ll be ages yet. Babies take their time even when they’re very early.’ Sandra was trying to reassure him. The guests sensed the drama unfolding. It was like a wave of news rippling from table to table… the baby is coming.
Then Mel appeared. ‘Please, no fuss, the party will go on but we must get Pippa down to the clinic,’ she announced as the medics, bride and groom processed past, trying to smile as if this was all part of the celebration.
‘Done a good job there, lass,’ said Jack as Sandra slumped down, her heart beating fast with all the excitement. ‘She is in good hands. Poor girl on her wedding day… I hope it all goes right, being premature. Still, it’s the right way around now, not born in the vestry, as they used to say.’ Sandra laughed.
The disco band struck up again and the guests danced on but Sandra felt tired. The slightest excitement got her out of breath but she had her inhaler.
Somewhere down in the town another party would be going on and it wouldn’t be over until well after dawn broke.
*
Griff, Don and Sara sat speechless at first, sipping their iced beers watching Spiro and Irini and the waiters filling glasses and handing round plates of wedding pastries and sweets. No one was going anywhere. ‘You couldn’t make this up, could you?’ Griff said, shaking his head in disbelief. ‘Now, Don, here’s the plot of your new novel.’
‘A wedding and a birth in the same day, not bad…’ he replied, smiling at Sara.
‘But it’s been a great day. My first wedding and it will be one to remember. I hope everything goes well for Pippa, with no complications. Do you have nephews and nieces?’ she asked them both.
‘Six of them,’ Griff replied. ‘My brother and his wife can’t seem to help themselves. He’s the one who runs things back in Shropshire. Have you any?’
Sara shook her head. ‘I’m an only child.’
‘Lucky thing,’ Don said. ‘You wouldn’t want a family like mine thrust upon you…’
‘It couldn’t happen to a better couple,’ Griff added. ‘Don’t think they’re prepared, though, and it’ll be a squash in the little shack. I wondered if they would accept the guesthouse for a while? I gather it’s not the first time it’s harboured newborns. It wouldn’t interfere with the other residents and you said you were going back home.’ Griff turned to Don.
‘I’m being shoved out to make way for a baby? I was thinking of staying on. Still, I know when I’m not wanted.’ Don pouted but then laughed.
‘I’m going back home so you’ll have to keep the place in order.’
‘Not quite my style, old boy. Perhaps I will inflict myself on one of my brothers. I shall return as a deadline is looming.’
‘You’re leaving too?’ Sara was surprised.
‘Only for Christmas, things to do back home.’
‘It must be lovely having a big family celebration. Our Christmases are quiet, lots of walking in the Peaks.’
‘How simply ghastly.’ Don grimaced. ‘Griff has been putting me through my paces to no avail. Now he takes Sparky in my place.’
‘I shall be working on my brochure with your shots,’ Sara said.
‘Sure. Perhaps we should meet up somewhere when I get them sorted. You could choose them and we could Photoshop them together. I do have some IT design experience if that would help.’
Sara felt embarrassed. Did he think she couldn’t handle it herself? Her business was none of his concern but he was trying to be helpful. Why did she feel reluctant to get him involved? ‘Thanks, but I’ve plenty of contacts in Sheffield.’
Don was eyeing them both. ‘That’s you told, son.’
‘I just thought they can be expensive and you won’t have made much from this wedding.’ Griff was oblivious to Don’s remark.
‘I never expected to make a profit. It was a try-out, but I shall check out photographers in future. It could have been a disaster.’
Griff lifted his glasses. ‘I just thought it might help. I didn’t mean to patronise.’
‘Thanks all the same but I have to deal with this my way,’ Sara replied.
‘Fancy a dance?’ Don said, dragging Sara onto the floor. ‘Can’t miss the chance for a smooch with a pretty girl.’ Sara laughed as he stumbled over his feet. ‘Sorry.’
Griff was watching them both. Sara felt her cheeks flushing. She would prefer to be dancing with him but she wanted no distractions. Don was a harmless flirt, and it suited her to let him amuse her with his antics, but she had the perfect escape.
‘Sorry, do you mind, I’m a bit concerned about Irini and the girls in the kitchen. Irini is much better but I don’t want her to overdo things. I must take Mel’s place,’ she said, not looking at either of them as she made her way out.
‘What did I say?’ Don shouted. Sara paused.
‘My thanks to you both for today. You really did help me out of a hole.’
Griff looked up. ‘Think nothing of it.’
Sara felt mean but she did have to leave. Griff was a nice guy, too nice, in fact.
How could she miss his interest in her? But she didn’t want any more complications. A man like Griff would want more than she could give. He was not on her to-do list.
*
Mel held the tiny baby in her arms and felt her breast tightening with yearning. It was a little girl and how she longed to have a daughter of her own. She was beautiful, her skin a little bit wrinkled but she was breathing well, tiny but perfect, her hair was dark and she was a good size for such an early bird.
Pippa lay back, exhausted. It had been a long birth, hours of pacing the floor, but the midwife and her husband, who had brought most of the babies in town into the world, knew what they were doing. Duke had held her hand until the delivery was over. He wept at the sight of his child. ‘No one tells you it will feel like this,’ he said as he held the baby as if she was fragile glass.
‘Have you chosen the name?’ Mel asked.
‘I was so sure it would be a boy called Theo, but Pippa must choose,’ Duke said.
‘Not Theodora,’ Pippa chipped in. ‘Something different. I have my own idea but let’s wait to see if the baby likes her name. I’ll not thrust Columbine on her, and there’s no rush.’
Mel left them sitting, adoring this beautiful gift of life. How envious she felt, but she knew she had two healthy boys and what mama did not love her sons?
*
Next morning, Sara was waiting at the taverna collecting up the decorations and helping Katya and Irini collect the rubbish in a sack for recycling. There were so many bottles and napkins and cigarette packets. Spiro would take them to the makeshift bins. Mel hadn’t slept all night, worrying about Pippa in labour. Sara took the bride’s dress to wash and then they went to the shack to collect clean clothes.
