The Cosy Christmas Teashop

by Caroline Roberts

  The file-by was in full swing, more mwah-ing, and a big hug from a male relative, it had to be, as there was a smell of stale beer and sweat from outside the wedding dress tent, accompanied by the bride being lifted off her feet – now that was interesting. As daylight entered Ellie’s zone, she wondered if anyone might have caught a glimpse of her crouched under there. She stayed put for a while longer, feeling like a child playing a particularly embarrassing game of hide and seek.

  Good God, this was going on forever. She really needed to get inside the Hall now, and check that everything was ready and absolutely perfect, as the guests began to take their places.

  Right that was it, she was going to make her move. Still on her hands and knees, she shifted around the back side of the skirt, far less room here under the bridal buttocks, and she was getting a cricked neck. Slowly but surely, Ellie crawled out backwards. She darted a look around; only a small boy dressed in a cute navy suit had spotted her; he was holding onto his mother’s hand in the line-up. Ellie gave him an ‘It’s our special secret’ shushing-finger sign across her lips. He smiled shyly, and bless him didn’t say a word, not then anyhow. He was definitely going to get extra cake later!

  So, she was out. She stood up, partly shadowed by the bridal gown and shifted along to slip out from beside the groom, past the waitresses, into the Hall. Doris gave her an odd, and slightly relieved glance.

  Joe quizzing, ‘Where on earth have you been?’

  ‘Don’t ask … you really don’t want to know. And if I did tell you, you probably wouldn’t believe it.’

  The buffet seemed to go to plan and there were lots of positive comments and ‘mmms’ as the guests tucked in. Yay!

  There was the usual bustling, refilling of platters, clearing of plates, cutlery, topping up glasses, and general buzz as the staff dashed about whilst trying to look calm and orderly. Ellie gave a huge sigh of relief as she took a two-minute breather and a cup of strong tea at the teashop, served by Irene, who had stayed down in the kitchens, bless her, on a mammoth washing-up mission – she’d been matching the dishwasher plate for plate in speed.

  Back up in the Great Hall, later, it was time for the speeches, orchestrated by a rather magnificent Malcolm, literally, his arms were going like the clappers every time he spoke. Ellie wasn’t sure if it was nerves, or just general over-exuberance. And, then it was the moment for the wedding cake to be cut. Ta-da-daaah! Ellie held her breath.

  It was a three-tiered, circular, rainbow-layered sponge cake, iced with white frosting and decorated with a scattering of coloured hearts and flowers that formed a rainbow-fade effect and increased in size as they wound down the cake tiers. The top tier had large icing letters of C and K (Chelsea and Kelvin) intertwined under an arch of icing rainbow, as requested by the bride, alongside a sugar paste unicorn. Rather gaudy, but pretty too; Ellie had given it her best shot. Each sponge cake had seven separately baked layers, of single rainbow colours, so when sliced through, you got a full rainbow sandwiched together with white frosting.

  The bride and groom were there hand on hand ready to make the first cut. Ellie was anxiously waiting with a plate, ready to receive the first slice. It felt very like the showstopper moment on Bake Off where Mary Berry cuts into the creation, and the audience hold their breath waiting for the verdict. An even bake … moist sponge … soggy bottom …?

  The knife went in smoothly to the top layer. Ellie tensed.

  The cake came out in an even rainbow-layered slice, Bridezilla smiled broadly at her audience and her gaze settled on Ellie, who breathed again. Yes! Thank heavens for that, one more hurdle over.

  There was a slight hiccup when one of the young waiters tried to carry too many plates, whilst clearing up, managing to drop the top three with a noisy smash that echoed around the hall. His face blushed crimson as Doris bustled in bearing a dustpan and brush, tutting, as she cleared the mess away swiftly.

  Then it was time for everyone to either spill out into the gardens, pop back to their rooms for a nap or touch-up their make-up and hairdo. Alternatively, they could just stay in the Great Hall and help themselves to a cuppa, with tea and coffee urns and crockery set up at the far end of the room. Whilst that was going on, the staff rallied to clear the Great Hall, to get it set up once more for the afternoon tea at 3.30 p.m., and also to prepare the marquee for the evening entertainment and disco. The guests would be fit to bursting by the time the hog roast was served that evening. Meanwhile, Ellie realized she hadn’t eaten a thing herself since her one slice of toast that morning. She gathered the waitresses and helpers in the kitchen, and announced they could all take a short break, telling them to help themselves to a plate she’d put aside of spare sandwiches and quiches, whilst she made up a huge pot of tea. Irene put out cups, saucers and plates ready for them to tuck in.

  Joe popped down, grabbed a mug of tea and a sandwich, and kissed Ellie’s cheek as he muttered ‘Got to dash’. He was in charge of getting the marquee bar, the hog roast man and the band all in the right place and ready to start by 6.30 p.m. for the evening do. A further forty guests were coming along then too. He had Colin, young James – who still worked for them at the castle, though he was doing a lot more on the farm these days – and a couple of lads from the village roped in, to set out tables, chairs, and more. The marquee people had erected a small stage area and a dance floor. Wendy was busy displaying even more flowers in the marquee, transferring some from the hall, and keeping them fresh with spritzes of cool water, as the day and the tent was turning warm.

  The afternoon flew by and they were all back in the Great Hall before they knew it, serving afternoon tea. Plates and cake stands were stacked with dainty sandwiches, cakes, scones, clotted creams and jams, and beautiful cupcakes that Ellie, Irene and Doris had spent a couple of hours decorating with more rainbow-coloured hearts and tiny icing flowers. Unfortunately, some of the younger members of the party were getting bored by then, just as the older members were becoming fuzzy with champagne and prosecco. A cupcake fight had broken out on a table near the bride, three children launching the sugary missiles and giggling. Boomph, one landed on the feathered fascinator of one of the guests and slid down into her lap. She looked up aghast.

  ‘Step away from the cupcakes!’ Doris boomed at the two flower girls and the mini usher, who had started throwing the food. Food that she had helped bake and decorate no less!

  Bridezilla intervened with a simpering, ‘They’re only children, they’re just playing.’

  The white-frosting smeared guest shook her head at the bride’s comment, but seemed a little afraid to speak up for herself and her ruined outfit.

  Doris fixed Bridezilla with one of her trademark stares, that was then aimed at each of the children in turn. Oh Lord, her hands were on her hips too, Ellie knew all the signs, she’d worked with her long enough. Don’t mess with Doris.

  ‘There are children starving in Africa, missy,’ Doris’s finger was wagging determinedly. ‘So, I suggest you put that cake, that you have in your hand, back on your plate and eat it. All of it. And you young man, can go and fetch a napkin and pass it to the lady whose dress you have spoilt. And if you can point out your parents or whoever you’re with …’ Her voice raised, as he lifted his hand to point at a man and woman at the next table, ‘Perhaps they can offer to pay for this poor woman’s dry cleaning bill.’ Doris gave one of her cool but meaningful smiles at the couple, who seemed to shrink under her glare, then her focus settled back on Bridezilla.

  There was a stunned silence. Ellie waited for Bridezilla to blow. But no, she looked rather shocked, but said nothing. Perhaps she’d finally met her match.

  ‘Right then, anyone for a top up of tea?’ Doris offered. Matter closed, the room returned to a buzz of chatter again. The children sat back down and quietly ate a cupcake each, then went off to play outside in the gardens – a much better idea all round.

  Other than a whirl of clearing plates, and tidying the Great Hall and the teashop kitchens,
Ellie had it slightly easier for the evening event, being on hand for advice and general assistance if need be. The bridesmaid’s wing had been reunited with its electricity supply, phew, so the guests all had their rooms back, and so far, all seemed to be well.

  Ellie looked in on the marquee mid-evening, after finishing her mammoth, kitchen-cleaning session. The chords of ‘Love Me Like You Do’ by Ellie Goulding were striking up; she had got here just in time to see Kelvin take Chelsea’s hand to lead her (and the dress) across the floor for the first dance. The bride was actually smiling, and finally seemed relaxed – possibly something to do with a bucketful of champagne. But, she looked happy and was enjoying her moment. Her groom was smiling broadly too, and after quashing down the many-layered skirt, took his bride into his arms and they started their slow, shuffle-dance together, lost in their world of two for a while.

  ‘I’m awarding that man a medal.’ Joe came up beside Ellie.

  ‘Yeah, but, they look happy. There’s someone for everyone. Good luck to them.’

  ‘He’ll need it.’ Joe smiled.

  The dance floor was a soft whirl of rainbow colours from the disco light, there were gorgeous flower displays, coloured ribbons twirled around posts, balloons, sparkles from the table confetti, and the marquee looked rather magical at that moment. The bar was bustling, and the guests seemed relaxed. The younger children joined in on the dance floor, and then other couples started waltzing on too.

  Phew, they had done it – just about pulled off this wedding, Ellie felt, by the skin of their teeth. She held on to Joe’s hand as they stood for a few minutes to watch the occasion.

  There were fairy lights guiding the way between the marquee and the Great Hall. And the stone-walled castle stood behind them, majestic and rather beautiful, even with its quirky electrics and trip-you-up winding stairwells. It was just such an amazing place for a wedding.

  Hopefully, Ellie’s evening would be less stressful from now. To be honest, the bride had had that much champagne, she had mellowed. Unfortunately, the alcohol had the opposite effect on her mother. All appeared to be going well, the first dance, disco, hog roast, bar, until the obligatory wedding punch-up broke out. And no, it wasn’t the adolescent young men who got carried away after too many lagers. It was in fact, Bridezilla’s dad who ended up with the black eye and bleeding nose, as a parting shot from his ex-wife, for daring to bring along his latest ‘floozy’ to the wedding, despite the fact the young woman had actually been invited by Bridezilla in the first place. Families, hey!

  After helping Joe move tables and stack chairs after the disco and band made their exit, and checking that the remaining guests seemed fine, Ellie finally got to bed at 2 a.m.. The duvet she snuggled into and the soft mattress beneath her felt sooo good.

  10

  ‘I didn’t get a wink of bloody sleep all night.’ Lord Henry trounced into the teashop at 8.15 a.m., where the morning-after wedding breakfast was to be served, but as yet none of the wedding party had made it out of their beds.

  Ellie was setting out sauces for the bacon breakfast rolls and juice glasses on the tables, with jugs of fresh orange and apple juice waiting on the counter for the off.

  ‘Why do they have to be so bloody noisy? All night. All bloody night. Boom-boom of the disco, the scraping of chairs, shouting, laughing, and then, just as I manage to get my first forty winks in, bloody fireworks, fireworks I tell you, at midnight. Well that was it, it sounded like shrapnel going off, like I was in some war film, woke me up and that was that. Then, I had to listen to the chatter of those damned bridesmaids in the rooms beneath me. Nightmare.’

  ‘Sorry, Henry, it’s a necessary evil. We really need these wedding events to finance the castle. They bring in more money than anything else we do.’ Ellie tried to appease him.

  ‘Well, I think I’m going to book a night in the bloody Swan Inn in the village next time. Get myself away from it all.’

  ‘That might not be such a bad idea …’ Ellie smiled. ‘Cup of coffee, Henry?’

  She had dropped the ‘Lord’ title, now she was his daughter-in-law. It had taken a while; it had just seemed wrong, too familiar at first, but gradually and after he’d insisted on it, it had become the norm. He was still a quirky old soul, very private; after his wife had died, he’d been very much a hermit at the castle for many years. But now, with the truth that he was Joe’s father revealed, and having spent time with Joe and Ellie in recent years in a family-type environment, though a rather disjointed one, (he hadn’t known of Joe’s existence until after his son’s eighteenth birthday), he had grown closer to them both. Every couple of weeks Ellie would cook for them all, and he’d come across to their apartment for a roast dinner, or some supper. He also popped into the teashop regularly, partly to see how things were going, but often leaving with some quiche or a filled jacket potato and a slice of cake for his lunch or supper. They rubbed along quite well really.

  She wondered for a second, what kind of grandfather he would make. She hoped they would get the chance one day to find out.

  ‘Yes, please, Ellen. Coffee would be lovely.’ Though she had dropped the Lord, he had never lost her misnomer. From day one he had called her Ellen instead of Ellie – it was just one of those things, a quirk of his nature. It used to annoy Ellie, but she was fine with it now; it sounded more like a term of affection. ‘May as well stay awake now,’ he continued.

  Doris came through, stifling a yawn herself. ‘Morning, Lord Henry.’

  ‘Morning, Doris.’

  By the looks of it, they were all looking forward to a good night’s sleep tonight, but before that there was a breakfast to serve, the kitchens to clean up, and the usual prep to do to get everything back to normal for tomorrow’s tearooms. It was going to be another full-on day.

  ‘I’ll put the pizza on, shall I?’

  ‘Oh yes, that’d be great. Do you mind? I’ve seen enough food in the past two days. We could have fed an army with it all. And there’s still leftovers, but I’m really not in the mood for a prawn vol-au-vent or a rainbow cupcake.’

  She felt shattered, but it was bliss to sink into her sofa back in their castle apartment, knowing all the hard work was done, and thankful that it had finally gone well. Deana had told her not to worry about the Daily Star threat and BRIDES magazine, joking that the bride’s so-called friend probably only made the tea there anyhow. And actually, before Bridezilla left in her Bentley, to be delivered plus groom to the airport for her honeymoon in the Seychelles (God bless the hotel staff she’d be staying with), she … yes, believe it or not, thanked them for her lovely wedding day. So hopefully, Ellie and the castle team had managed to turn things around.

  In the end, the wedding had gone better than anyone had imagined. And the ‘Happy Couple’ had finally left the castle at 3 p.m., along with the last of their guests. Off to the Seychelles, lucky devils, ooh yes, Ellie could just imagine lying on a sunlounger with an azure blue sky above her, right now.

  She’d have a bath in a while, soak her tired limbs, but all she wanted to do for now was stay on this squishy, oh-so-comfy sofa … and not move.

  Joe walked back in from their kitchen with a tired-but-gorgeous smile on his face, and she realized with a warm, fuzzy feeling that she actually had everything she wanted right here. She patted the seat next to her. ‘Come here you. I need a hug.’

  He sat down beside her, wrapping his strong arms around her, and she leaned back against him.

  ‘You okay?’ he spoke softly above her head.

  ‘Yeah,’ she answered sleepily.

  ‘You did a great job this weekend. It all went really well in the end, didn’t it? Only blips were electrics and the fight, but hey, that last one was way outside of our control … The women in that family are pretty scary, huh?’

  ‘Hmm.’

  ‘You going to make it through ‘til pizza?’

  Ellie just nodded. Speaking was becoming too much of an effort.

  He kissed the top of her hea
d.

  And she found herself in a world of baking/serving/rainbow-cake/unicorn dreams.

  When she came to, it had got dark, there was just the glow of lamplight in the room. Joe had covered her with a soft blanket, and he was sat in the armchair opposite, so as not to disturb her. He looked so handsome sat there watching the tv which was turned down low, unaware at that moment that she had woken. His thick dark hair, the fringe which was a tad floppy but she loved, tumbling across his forehead – it was rather nice running your hands through that. Hazel eyes that were kind and sexy all at once, his tall physique, and long legs in denim jeans angled out in front of him.

  He must have sensed her looking. ‘Ah ha, and so she returns to the land of the living. Do you know you’ve missed three days?’

  ‘Hah, very funny …’ Her stomach then gurgled and groaned.

  ‘See, told you. You’re withering away.’

  ‘Fine chance of that.’ She had always been on the larger side of twelve, namely a size fourteen. It would take more than three days to wither, she knew that only too well.

  ‘Well, I don’t want any withering. Those delightful breasts need a preservation order on them.’ He grinned.

  She smiled back. Over time, she had learnt that he loved her just the way she was.

  ‘So, it’s just as well I saved you some pizza, then.’ He got up and headed for the kitchen. ‘Fancy it now?’

  ‘Please, I’m starving.’

  He handed her the plate which he’d warmed in the microwave, and sat down beside her whilst she ate. The pizza had gone a bit chewy, but was still tasty.

  ‘Well, some event that was,’ he said. ‘Glad that wedding’s over with, anyhow. At least it went fine in the end, didn’t it? You did great, Ellie. Don’t know how you kept your cool sometimes. What a nightmare she was to work with.’

  ‘Our first Bridezilla.’

  ‘Let’s hope she’s the last.’