The Hen Party

by Cathy Bramley

  ‘It’s the press leak about my hen party. It can only have come from her. Only my hens and I knew that we’d booked to go to that Scottish castle. There’s no way any of them would blab. They know how important it is.’

  ‘One of them might have done it by accident?’ I suggested. Like I had done with Victory Road. ‘Easy mistake to make. An innocent mention on Twitter and pouf … suddenly everyone knows about it.’

  ‘Not my girls. We trust each other.’ She swigged her beer. ‘And if they’d done it accidentally, they’d have owned up straight away. No, I think this was deliberate. To sabotage the exclusive magazine deal with My Dream Day. Poppy wanted the show to have exclusive access to every aspect of my wedding; she got quite uppity about it. But some things are private. I know this probably sounds at odds with being a reality TV star, but I didn’t want a film crew at my hen weekend, it’s bad enough having them at the wedding. I don’t understand this need to share my whole life with the media.’

  ‘I know what you mean,’ I replied. Or rather I did now.

  When Sebastian had been my agent, he’d encouraged me to chase every PR opportunity, and each month was deemed a success or failure depending on the number of media mentions I’d had. But over the last couple of weeks I’d begun to question that approach. Perhaps it was better to have just one rave review of my acting than ten ‘celebrity spottings’ at parties and premieres. Because otherwise, what was I actually famous for?

  ‘It’s a mystery to me why people are so interested in my life,’ she said. ‘Maidens of Mayfair is essentially about wealthy girls who meet for lunch, argue over cocktails and vie for the most screen time any way they can. I miss my research lab at the university; life was so much more exciting there.’

  I raised an eyebrow, wondering not for the first time why someone like her had agreed to take part in the programme at all. ‘If that is where your heart lies, then perhaps you should rethink?’

  ‘I rethink every day,’ she said with a sigh. ‘Anyway, the press hasn’t followed us here and that’s the main thing. And I’m so glad we came; I’ve absolutely fallen in love with the place.’

  ‘I’m glad too.’

  ‘And the views aren’t bad either, he’s rather delicious.’ She nodded her head and I followed her gaze to where a man was walking towards us along the shoreline just out of the water’s reach. I wouldn’t have known who it was if it hadn’t been for Mabel running in and out of the waves beside him. She dropped something at his feet and he threw it in a wide arc out to sea, laughing as she splashed out immediately to get it. Sapphire was right, he did look rather delicious.

  ‘That’s Jude,’ I replied. ‘I’ve only met him twice and both times were a bit of a disaster. But by all accounts, he’s more of a dog than a people person.’

  ‘Hmm.’ Sapphire narrowed her eyes and stood up. ‘He seems to like people now; he’s taking pictures of us. And I can’t have that.’

  Jude did have a camera phone held up to his face, but he wasn’t aiming it at us.

  ‘No, look, he’s not pointing the camera this way,’ I reassured her. ‘You’re quite safe.’

  Sapphire relaxed back down, but kept a beady eye on him nonetheless. Jude was taking pictures of the lifeboat house, specifically, I noticed for the first time, of a new sign that had been erected on the side of the building. But he kept his distance and before long was out of sight again.

  The rounders game had ended and the girls were heading back to our makeshift bar.

  ‘You lot cheated,’ said Catherine, laughing. ‘Ruby hit the ball in the sea on purpose. I demand a re-match.’

  ‘No way!’ Ruby held her sides, getting her breath back. ‘I demand a drink.’

  ‘I’m on it,’ said Theo, dusting the sand from his hands. ‘There are cold beers, champagne, plenty of spirits—’

  ‘How about sex on the beach?’ shouted a voice from behind us up on the clifftop.

  We all turned and I stifled a groan: Danny.

  The girls all whooped and Ruby waved her arms. ‘You are talking my kinda language.’

  Danny began to jog down the slipway towards us and Sapphire dropped her head into her hands with a groan. I’d spotted it too: he had his camera around his neck.

  ‘It’s happened again,’ she murmured. ‘You’re not telling me he’s not press.’

  I jumped to my feet. ‘Ah, now he is a photographer, but not for the press. So far his commissions have only been seen by the passport office.’ I smiled at Sapphire’s confused face. ‘Don’t worry. I’ll handle this.’

  ‘Danny Tyler, sex god and award-winning mixologist at your service.’ He grinned at the assembled group of women and rubbed his hands together. ‘Who’s for one of my killer cocktails?’

  Theo stepped forward. ‘Thanks, mate, but I’m in charge of the bar. Why don’t you stick to what you do best?’

  Ruby twirled a lock of blonde hair around her fingers. ‘And what do you do best?’

  ‘Well, ladies,’ Danny crooned, ‘where do I begin?’

  The girls had formed a cluster around him and he was lapping up the attention. Which gave me the perfect opportunity to creep up behind him.

  ‘By handing this over,’ I said briskly, unhooking his camera from around his neck. ‘I’ll take that for now.’

  I put it in Sapphire’s lap for safekeeping.

  ‘Hey, that’s the key to my future,’ Danny protested. ‘I was going to do some moody sunset shots for my portfolio. You know, sunlight glinting off the rocks, etc., etc.’

  ‘I’ll model for you,’ said Ruby, thrusting herself at him. ‘I could arrange myself artistically on the rocks.’

  ‘Ruby!’ Sapphire glared at her sister incredulously. ‘Press embargo, remember?’

  Ruby folded her arms. ‘It’s always about you, isn’t it?’ she muttered.

  Catherine handed him her mobile phone. ‘Danny, we’d love some pictures of all of us, just casual ones to remember the weekend by.’ She looked at Sapphire for reassurance. ‘That’s okay, isn’t it, Sapph, if they’re on my phone?’

  Sapphire chewed her lip and then nodded. ‘Of course. Of course it is; I’m being ridiculous. And Danny, that would be really kind of you, if you wouldn’t mind.’

  Danny bowed deeply. ‘No problemo. Okay, come on, ladies, let’s have you over the rocks. Blondes at the front.’

  ‘Why’s that?’ Virginia asked, tucking her short dark hair behind her ears.

  Danny smiled sympathetically. ‘Gentlemen prefer blondes.’

  Virginia’s mouth dropped open and Ruby snorted. ‘You can’t say that.’

  ‘Hey,’ said Danny, holding his hands up, ‘I don’t make the rules.’

  ‘Agreed. Because you’re talking rubbish.’ Theo had sweetly been Googling the ingredients for sex on the beach cocktails and had concocted a pinky approximation of it in one of the ice buckets. He handed the girls a glass each, Virginia first. ‘I prefer brunettes.’

  ‘Like Nina?’ said Catherine innocently.

  He blushed. ‘And my wife.’

  ‘I’m naturally much lighter,’ I put in, slightly perturbed by Theo’s reply. My hair, which Trudy had dyed black as part of my disguise a few weeks ago, had faded to dark brown, but normally it was the colour of caramel. So not Theo’s type.

  Ruby peered at me. ‘You should go lighter again. It would suit your eye colour.’ She squinted. ‘What is your eye colour? Blue, green, grey?’

  I opened my mouth to answer that my eyes were all those colours, but Sapphire jumped in first.

  ‘You look lovely as you are, Nina. And thanks for sorting the privacy thing.’ She handed me Danny’s camera. ‘I’d better go and join in.’

  ‘What are you doing tomorrow?’ I heard Danny say to Ruby, draping his arm around her shoulders as they made their way to the rocks. ‘Because there’s a two-for-one offer on mussels at The Sea Urchin …’

  To give Danny his due, he very patiently took pictures with everyone’s phone and camera over the cours
e of the next hour without a murmur. I did notice a bit of cleavage zooming at one point when Ruby asked him to take one of her leaning over the fire roasting a marshmallow but I got the impression that she enjoyed it.

  And they all listened intently when he showed them how to edit pictures straight from their phones.

  ‘People never make enough use of the filters on their phone cameras,’ he explained earnestly, sweeping his blond hair from his face. ‘They’re only simple but they can elevate a picture to something special.’

  The women all cooed. There was a certain appeal to him when he dropped the ‘sex god’ act. Even Sapphire was won over.

  ‘Danny’s cute,’ said Ruby, flicking her hair over her shoulder.

  ‘He’s single, if you’re interested,’ I said with a grin. ‘We have a good record of matchmaking at Driftwood Lodge.’

  She appeared to consider it. ‘He did say I’d definitely make it as a model.’

  ‘He’s entertaining, that’s for sure,’ Sapphire agreed thoughtfully, turning to me. ‘And it would be lovely to have some good photographs to remember the hen weekend by. Do you think he’d be free tomorrow, if I offered to pay him?’

  Danny’s ears pricked up and he was at Sapphire’s side instantly. ‘I’d have to shuffle a few things around,’ he said, sucking in air.

  I hid a smile. Like his shift at the photographic shop.

  ‘But I think I could squeeze you in.’ He dropped his sunglasses down over his eyes and waggled them. ‘If the price is right.’

  ‘Complete privacy, though, Danny,’ said Sapphire, holding his gaze. ‘And you’ll have to use one of our cameras.’

  She named a figure that made his eyes light up and they made their arrangements to meet tomorrow. The party began to break up soon after that and Theo persuaded Danny to help us load the tables and deckchairs into his van.

  It was only when I was stashing the cool boxes into the back that I glanced up and read the sign on the lifeboat house. It was from an auctioneer’s inviting interested parties to contact them and collect particulars immediately.

  That was sad. Obviously the place was disused but the building itself was lovely and must have been brimming with history. The thought of it being developed or knocked down to make way for something modern was awful. I thought of Jude and his anger when he’d seen the man with the ladder. That must have been when the sign was being erected.

  ‘Danny,’ I said, ‘why is Jude so upset about the boathouse being for sale?’

  ‘Not sure, but he’s a social worker and does a lot of work with the community.’ He leaned on the door of the van and shook his head. ‘He’s never happier than when he’s fighting for some cause or other. This will be his latest thing. He thinks we should keep Brightside Cove as it is. Stuck in the Dark Ages. But you can’t, can you?’ He shrugged. ‘Because if you don’t move forwards you end up going backwards. And this place is backwards enough, if you ask me.’

  ‘Jethro likes it just as it is,’ I said.

  Danny smirked. ‘I rest my case.’

  He had a point.

  When I finally climbed into bed in the spare room at midnight my skin was tingling from being exposed to the sun, salt and sand for so long today and my muscles were aching from the mermaid photo shoot earlier. What a crazy perfect day. I had never been as ready for sleep in my life and I hoped I’d manage to wake up in time to cook and serve breakfast for nine o’clock.

  I stared through the open curtains, my eyes hypnotized by the glow of the moon, and found myself drifting into a delicious sleep—

  DELICIOUSLY DEVON!

  The thought propelled me from my pillow as realization dawned. I hadn’t booked the caterers for tomorrow night’s dinner. I picked up my watch and stared at it. It was too late to ring now; I’d just have to call them in the morning and hope for the best …

  Chapter 9

  I made my morning cup of tea, sifted through the detritus on the kitchen table to find the scrap of paper that Molly had given me and took it to the telephone in the hall.

  ‘Hello?’ The voice that answered the phone was so croaky that I wouldn’t have liked to guess whether it was male or female. ‘Who’s this?’

  I winced. Okay, so maybe eight o’clock on a Saturday morning was a little too early to be phoning the caterers … But I’d woken whoever it was now, I might as well carry on.

  ‘Could I speak to Angie, please?’

  ‘No, she’s …’ There was a cough and a husky male voice continued. ‘Excuse me. Angie’s not here. Can I help? I’m her, er, partner. In business. A business partner.’

  A sleeping partner, by the sound of it …

  ‘I’d like to book you to cater for a dinner party,’ I said, keeping my fingers crossed for luck. ‘Eleven people.’

  ‘Hold on I’ll get the diary.’

  ‘Wait—’

  There was no need for the diary, I was about to say. But there was a creaky noise, which sounded a bit like someone getting out of bed and then bouncing back in again.

  ‘So when for? Our next available dinner party slot is—’

  ‘Tonight,’ I blurted out.

  ‘You have got to be joking?’ the man spluttered. ‘I was going to say July.’

  ‘I’m not joking,’ I said. ‘And I apologize for the last-minute-ness. But on the plus side, I have a very large budget.’

  ‘Hmmm.’

  I’d hoped money might talk, but there was a very long silence on the other end of the line.

  ‘Look, you’re the only catering company in the area, and I have eleven women, several of whom are household names, expecting dinner. You might even get a mention on TV. Imagine what that would do for your business.’

  ‘I’d get even more calls at stupid o’clock asking me to work miracles?’ replied the man drily. ‘Excuse me for not falling over myself with gratitude.’

  I stared at the phone incredulously. It was no wonder tourism had never taken off in Brightside Cove with this sort of attitude.

  ‘So you’re turning down my booking?’

  The man sucked air in through his teeth. ‘I suppose I might be able to get hold of a seafood chef. He does a mean steamed lobster. Locally sourced. Expensive, but very exclusive.’

  ‘Big Dave’s already busy, if that was who you were thinking of.’

  ‘Ah.’ There was a pause. ‘Well, as I said, I’m only taking bookings from July so I can’t help you.’

  ‘You have to!’ My palms had begun to sweat. ‘I’ve promised the guests excellent food, if I don’t come up trumps, my friend’s business will quite likely fail and I’ll blame myself, because it’ll be my fault and they’ll all end up eating beans on toast and they have specifically said money no object. Please!’

  The thought of Sapphire et al.’s reaction to one of my home-cooked meals was enough to instil a fear in me worse than stage-fright.

  ‘Oh, for crying out loud,’ he muttered. ‘Hold on, I’ll just flick through some menus, see if I can find something suitable.’

  I heard a drawer open, some papers being rustled and a kettle being switched on. Meanwhile, I waited patiently, sipping my tea. The caterers probably had a folder of set menus and there was more than likely a freezer full of suitable food waiting to be thawed out and served. This man had probably just been hoping for a night off. Some business partner he was. In the background a dog barked excitedly and I heard a door opening and closing and then he was back on the line.

  ‘Okay, I’ve checked our available ingredients and things and I reckon we can do you a south-east Asian banquet. Six or seven different mains, three choices of rice and a few other odds and sods, I mean side-dishes. That do you?’

  I almost choked on my tea. ‘That sounds fantastic. Thank you so much! Eight o’clock all right? It’s Driftwood Lodge, Brightside Cove.’

  ‘Fine,’ he said, yawning. ‘Cash on delivery, mind you, I’ll work out the price and let you know. Now, I’d better go and …’ I heard the bed creaking again, ‘… s
tart boiling the lemongrass or something. Goodbye.’

  It was on the tip of my tongue to question the boiling of lemongrass but a glance at the time reminded me that I had an immense amount of work to do before the hen party emerged from their cottages – and my bake-at-home croissants weren’t going to bake themselves.

  By late afternoon the day was going swimmingly and Theo and I were feeling pretty pleased with ourselves. Or at least I was. Theo seemed to be going through the motions a little bit and had made one or two uncharacteristically snide comments about Kate, and I made a mental note to quiz him as soon as we had a moment to ourselves. Whenever that might be …

  We’d served the girls breakfast in their own cottages while Molly converted the living room in Driftwood Lodge into an oasis of peace and tranquillity. Piles of fluffy white towels, candles scented with cedarwood and chamomile and the ‘Sounds of Mother Nature’ playlist she’d compiled when she was pregnant with Ellis created the perfect ambiance for our morning of Brightside Beauty. And then while Theo set about making all the beds, and preparing the kitchen for Big Dave, Eliza, Molly and I had buffed, smoothed and polished eleven faces and twenty-two feet with a variety of homemade salt-and-sand treatments. The morning had finished with Indian head massages and Molly had succeeded in sending every one of our hens into a peaceful sleep with her magic fingers.

  Lunch had looked and smelled amazing. Big Dave had wowed everyone with his crab salad and he’d even brought a dessert of warm cider apple cake and creamy custard. Goodness knows how much booze was in it, but after a second slice, the hitherto sensible Virginia suggested they head off to the beach for a spot of skinny dipping. Dave, unsurprisingly, was all for it, but Eliza distracted them by bringing in the mermaid outfits, at which point the squeals from eleven women got so loud that the men offered to wash up just to escape the noise.

  We’d all collapsed over tea and sandwiches in the kitchen for half an hour while the hens dashed off to make themselves mermaid-body ready. And at three, Eliza led the girls off to the rocks where Danny was due to meet them to do their photo shoot while Theo took the mermaid tails down the slipway in his van to save them having to be carried. I waved them off and went inside to make a start on afternoon tea.