Even now he refuses to do the decent thing, so Rab reaches into Lorenzo’s inside pocket and gets out the burgundy award winner’s pen with gold trim.
‘I hope this wasn’t the treasure you came all this way to find,’ says Rab. ‘You do realise it’s not real gold, don’t you?’
‘Not to you it isn’t,’ I reply, putting it safely in my bag where it belongs. Despite knowing that Mercury will be OK now, I’m glad that Lorenzo will get his comeuppance. Maybe all those people will get their money back, too. It feels like the final piece in the jigsaw.
Up on the stage, Patty’s entourage are still going and they shout for her to rejoin them. I feel at peace and now all I want to do is sleep. I tell her to go for it without me but she shakes her head.
‘Nah, it’s just a bit of fun. It doesn’t do it for me like it used to. I just want to get home to Jack and my new career.’
I never thought I’d see the day when she’d say that; maybe she is ready for Mercury.
Over the remainder of the week, we hop over to Islay and visit the whisky distillery mentioned in Dad’s treasure trail clues. From there we head back to the mainland and snake up Applecross Pass before taking in the most glorious scenery on the west coast. Finally, we arrive at Cape Wrath, which Dad described as the ‘final crossroad for Viking Norsemen’, a wild and rugged lighthouse at the most north-westerly point of Great Britain.
As we head back with the Highlands in our rear-view mirror, I call my father.
‘Thank you – they’re going to absolutely love all of this,’ I tell him.
We Are Family
To say that Patty is excited right now would be as inadequate as describing Usain Bolt as ‘quite a fast runner’. If she’s to be the first to marry on the island, it means we have to get everything ready in just three weeks. She’s sitting in my living room telling me her plans and obviously has no intention of compromising because of the timeframes.
‘I’d like fireworks on the beach just as the sun goes down,’ she says as I sit perched with a notepad and pen making a list of all the practicalities. ‘A big heart with P&J in the middle – fizzing away like a big sparkler.’
‘Should we start with numbers?’ I suggest and receive a wave of dismissal.
‘And we should leave the reception on horseback,’ she continues, ‘galloping along the beach.’
‘Can either of you ride a horse?’ I ask and get another wave of dismissal.
I pick up the book of flowers Michael bought me when we were first bidding for the resort and try to get Patty to focus on more normal things.
‘I’ve been through this to find out what’s going to be in season when we get out there,’ I tell her and she takes a quick glance. ‘They’re all beautiful but I think some are a little too bright for a wedding, unless you want bright?’
‘You’re right,’ says Patty. ‘I’ll go with whatever you think. Isn’t the flower choice a duty for the maid of honour?’
‘Not usually but I’m happy to do it.’ I’ll give Michael a call later and get his advice.
‘So what do you actually want to do now?’ I ask.
‘Dress shop.’
Hurrah, sensible notepad tossed aside, we drive to the footballers’ wives’ part of Cheshire and descend upon the most expensive looking bridal shop we can find. As neither of us is exactly a size eight soap or reality star, I’m expecting the assistants to look us up and down then dismiss us in a scene from Pretty Woman kind of way. I have my gold credit card at the ready just in case, but nothing could be further from the truth. A woman of our age comes over and when she hears we have just three weeks to find the perfect dress for a beach wedding, she gets down to business straight away.
‘I can certainly show you the fabrics that work best in that climate but do you have any particular design in mind? Short? Long? Sleeves or sleeveless? White, cream or coloured?’
‘Not bright white,’ says Patty looking at me for approval. ‘Maybe cream or the palest rose colour.’
I nod, the rose colour sounds lovely.
‘What do you think Ange? I don’t think I want short.’
‘I wouldn’t either – something that blows around your ankles in the breeze. Not so long that you have to wear high heels or trip up in the sand, though – maybe the length of a maxi dress?’
Both Patty and the assistant nod at my sensible suggestion.
‘What about sleeves?’ the assistant continues. ‘Most ladies our age like to cover up, but for the beach that might not look right.’
‘I agree,’ I tell Patty. ‘How about those sleeves that have just the shoulder cut out. They look quite sexy but hide the worst bits.’
Again Patty nods.
‘That would be perfect,’ adds the assistant, ‘and I have something with the lightest chiffon sleeves dotted with pearl buttons – it’s simply beautiful.’
She gets up to look for the right brochure.
‘What will you want me to wear?’ I ask Patty.
‘Well, tell me if this sounds naff but I sort of wanted you to wear something similar to me. We’re the same age, best friends and I think it would look lovely.’
‘I can’t wear a wedding dress on your big day.’
‘I know, but if they did this style in that rose colour as well as cream then you could wear the rose – that would suit you better anyway.’
The assistant comes back with the brochure and shows us the dress she has in mind. It is beautiful and the photograph is shot on a beach with a light breeze picking up the model’s veil. It doesn’t take much of a hard sell after that; the assistant gets the sample dresses from the stock room and we head into the changing room to try them on. I walk out wearing my rose-coloured creation. It’s the palest rose I’ve ever seen and suits my colouring perfectly. I can just imagine the setting sun picking up the delicate layers of fabric. Even if this isn’t my day, I get the chance to dress up. I head out into the shop and wait for Patty to emerge. When she does, the dress has an astounding effect as my best friend simply floats out serenely and elegantly. I smile and give her a round of applause.
‘They’re perfect,’ Patty chokes, the emotion spilling over and even making me cry. We hold hands and look at ourselves in the mirror. Anyone would think it was us getting married.
‘You’ve obviously shared some very special moments,’ says the assistant and we simply nod. I’m going back through the years to when Patty was my maid of honour in the early nineties – gosh that dress was truly awful. I burst out laughing telling Patty what I’m thinking about.
‘I’d forgotten about that,’ she says. ‘Right – off with that gorgeous, tasteful dress, we’re off to get you some puffball sleeves. I will have my revenge.’
After ordering the dresses we head back to the office and get back to work. We’re all going to Patty’s wedding, so we’re closing the office for a few days and have to let everyone know about it. At first I was worried that customers would think we’d gone the same way as Lorenzo but the news of his arrest spread quickly and besides which, Patty has become part of the furniture since joining us full time. She shows everyone who comes into the shop the dazzling engagement ring she’s sporting so they know the closure is for genuine personal reasons. Patty’s wedding also gives us the chance to talk about the new business and to get a feature in our local paper.
‘You know, we should be getting vloggers to follow this now,’ says Josie, inviting us into her virtual world. I’ve only just heard of bloggers let alone this new group – I’m beginning to think I’m going to be learning a word a day for the rest of my life. We haven’t had time to get the TV channel set up for Patty but Josie isn’t going to let the idea die.
‘We could post all the preparation on Instagram and offer one of the bigger vlogs a live stream of the ceremony. That way all the Mercurians could sort of join in. We could still have that virtual wedding – they just go to the vlog to log in and watch the ceremony. I tell you it could be fabulous.’
Zoe
can’t get to the wedding because of work commitments, so I love the idea of sharing it with her. She was so excited when she found out about Patty’s offer and it would have meant so much if she could have made it in person. Patty is like family to both of us. Fortunately, Patty loves the idea, too.
‘If we do that,’ she says, ‘it would make me feel as if more people were there.’
I glance across at Charlie and he nods me into the back room.
‘Did you have any luck?’ I ask.
‘Sort of,’ replies Charlie. ‘I found a Julian Richard Egerton – it’s not a very common name.’
‘But that’s absolutely brilliant.’
‘Hold on,’ Charlie continues. ‘He died four years ago.’
I deflate. In return for making such a fantastically generous decision to invest in Mercury when we needed it most, I had hoped to do something wonderful for Patty. Before heading off to Scotland I gave Charlie all the information I had on her father with the hope of getting him to her wedding and being able to give her away.
‘But there’s some potential good news,’ adds Charlie, ‘she does have brothers.’
He pulls reams of folded printouts from his bag. They’re pictures downloaded from social media of tall blond smiling men, the image of my best friend, and their smiling families.
‘And nephews and nieces, too, by the looks of it,’ I say, smiling at one of the nieces who is all dressed up in a tutu and feather boa during this obviously formal occasion. I think Patty might get on with her. ‘But no sisters.’
It hits me out of the blue: just how relieved I am that Patty doesn’t have a little sister out there somewhere. It was my idea to try to and track down her family but I’d envisaged a tearful elderly gent taking her hand. I hadn’t expected strapping brothers and Patty being an aunty. I’m pleased about that part but so relieved there isn’t a sister and I feel terrible for even thinking that. It’s just that for the past thirty years, ever since our air-stewardess days, she’s been my big sister. Not the kind that behaves sensibly or keeps you out of trouble but the kind who makes you laugh and always looks out for you. And I love her.
‘I’m sure she’ll still be your big sis even if it turns out she has hundreds of brothers,’ says Charlie, kissing me on the top of the head. Again, am I that easy to read?
‘How do we know Patty or her brothers would actually want this?’ continues Charlie. ‘They haven’t found each other for all this time, they mightn’t be happy with that.’
‘I’ll ask Jack about Patty,’ I reply. ‘Could you try to contact them to see what they think. If they didn’t want to know, I’d be heartbroken for her.’
We nod in agreement at our pact and join the others back in the shop.
* * *
Getting things organised within three weeks means that practically every night we’re meeting up to discuss something. Tonight it’s everyone’s favourite – the food. Peter and Jack have put themselves in charge of the catering and summon all of us to their tasting session at Peter’s house. If Mum were here I’d be at risk of her trampling over me to get to the mouth-watering smorgasbord in front of me right now.
‘We thought maybe we’d have a barbecue on the beach,’ says Jack, ‘fresh fish, prawns with a spicy dipping sauce – that kind of thing.’
Thankfully, Patty shakes her head in horror.
‘Not for the actual day,’ she tells them. ‘You’ve two women in gorgeous dresses. We don’t want to be covered in dipping sauce by the end of the day. And I can’t eat without making a mess, which would happen. We should sit inside; there are only a few of us but we could have a very decadent dinner party. The best food, champagne, chandeliers and rose petals – really go to town.’
‘And you could have post-ceremony cocktails at Charlie’s bar,’ I add, picturing the scene. ‘Not champagne but something really gorgeous and colourful in keeping with the island.’
I picture myself in the flowing chiffon welcoming people to the resort and placing a flower in their hair.
‘These cocktails can’t be too alcoholic,’ says Charlie. ‘We don’t want you two finding a stage and belting out Cyndi tunes.’
I protest I don’t do that any more although I obviously can’t speak for Patty.
‘It shouldn’t be all eating and drinking,’ says Jack. ‘Why don’t we do something before we sit down to eat?’
‘What about that boat trip?’ I suggest, and Peter picks it up immediately.
‘You have a late-afternoon ceremony,’ he says, ‘then we all walk to the harbour where we board a yacht and have our cocktails. We sail around the island, hopefully seeing some dolphins swimming, and then we come back. Torches light the way to our decadent safari tent – the table is gleaming – all crystal, crisp napkins and an orchid centrepiece. We sit down to champagne and fresh fish, dining until it’s dark, then we’ll have dancing by our beach bar. The last song you’ll hear is “Perfect Day” and as it finishes, we take that tune to our beds. How does that sound?’
He looks around at us all but none of us speaks. I think we’re all lost in this vision of perfection. Jack eventually breaks the silence. ‘It sounds incredible. Thank you all for making this day so special.’
Charlie’s phone beeps and he nods me over to him. We sneak into his study away from the party planners.
‘It’s Robert,’ he says. Robert is the eldest brother. ‘He really wants to meet up and says his dad did try to find Patty before he died. They didn’t know her surname.’
I can believe that: Patty’s mum used a range of stage names and I’m sure there must have been a stage when even Patty couldn’t keep track of what her real name was. She was relieved she married Nigel and could finally stick to Carmichael.
‘What did Jack say?’ asks Charlie. ‘Does he think she’ll be up for it?’
‘He thinks so,’ I tell him.
‘Then let’s make it happen.’
At that point Patty sticks her head around the door.
‘What are you two gossiping about?’
I quickly pick up the flower book I’ve been carrying everywhere. ‘We were just having a laugh. Can you imagine what the boys would say if we suggested this for a buttonhole.’
I’m pointing at a bright red waxy flower with a huge yellow stamen poking out of it. The book describes it as heart shaped but you don’t have to be a Georgia O’Keeffe fan to see something rather different in it.
She laughs. ‘If I were being polite I’d say it looks like an alien probe.’ She sits down with us and we scroll through page after page of stunning, vibrant flowers. They’re dramatic and beautiful but not really bridal.
‘I think I’ve found the one,’ I tell her.
I flick to a page I’ve marked out. On it there’s a delicate lilac orchid native to the island.
I read the description:
The orchid has been held in high regard since ancient times. It symbolises love, beauty, refinement, thoughtfulness and charm.
‘That says me,’ nods Patty.
‘With the exception of the refinement bit,’ I reply, getting a friendly jab.
* * *
Come the weekend we’ve arranged for a pre-wedding send-off for Patty and Jack. We could have gone down the traditional hen and stag night but that would have involved a night with my mother in tow and no dad to keep her in check. We’re having a full Mercury family affair at a local pub (gastro, naturally) and I’m rather terrified because Robert and his brother Elliott are joining us as a surprise for Patty. Lord I hope Jack is right.
They’ve travelled up from Kent and we’ve arranged for them to stay in a city-centre hotel. They’ve never been to Manchester before, so inevitably when we catch up with them they’ve done a boy’s tour of the city taking in the Football Museum, Old Trafford and the Etihad Stadium. Michael would be horrified that they didn’t fit in the county cricket ground, too. I leave Charlie in charge of them and head over to Patty’s. She’s at her most glamorous and is quite simply glowing. I’
m glad this is how she’ll meet her brothers for the first time. Jack and I ask Patty to sit down between us.
‘Uh-oh, this looks serious,’ she says, the glow fading a little.
‘I’ve done something,’ I say, not knowing quite where to start. ‘And I hope you’ll be happy with it, but I know that there’s a chance I’ve overstepped the mark and interfered.’
‘Go on, tell me.’
‘After we found those photos in your old house and we spoke about your dad, well, I thought I’d try to find him for you. I asked Charlie to do a search while we were in Scotland. ’
Patty swallows. Jack takes her hand and right now I can’t judge whether this is going to go well or badly.
‘Patty, we did find him…’
Her jaw drops but her face lights a little. I shake my head to ease the bad news that’s to come.
‘I’m sorry, he died a few years ago.’
Patty drops her head into her hands.
‘Well, I guess that’s it,’ she says. ‘I’m no worse off. Thank you for trying.’
‘No wait, there’s more,’ I say and Jack moves in to hold her steady. ‘Patty you have two brothers.’
She bursts into floods of tears burying her head into Jack’s chest.
‘And we’ve brought them up to Manchester if you want to meet them.’
‘Of course I bloody well do,’ she snorts, her eyes shining.
We take Patty to the hotel so she can meet her brothers before we go to the restaurant. We all sit quietly in the cab over. I wonder how I’d react to getting the news I’ve just given Patty. If Mum declared she’d had a secret love child and given it up for adoption before she met Dad? I can’t imagine that ever happening, but if I ever found someone to share the burden of her, I’m sure I’d welcome them with open arms. It’s not the same, though; this is serious.
The cab pulls up at the hotel and Patty takes a deep breath before getting out. We head into the hotel bar and look around. It doesn’t take a detective to work out who Robert and Elliott are. The tall Nordic genes that have blessed Patty have obviously been shared around the family. Patty stands looking at them with an anxious smile on her face.
The Heat Is On Page 24
