A Vintage Wedding (17 page)

It was a week before April’s wedding. The girls had all been working hard on different aspects of it and hadn’t had a chance to have a proper catch-up with each other. Or, as Rachel would have it, a meeting. Now they were assembled in Lindy’s crowded sitting room, so she didn’t have to get a babysitter. It was seven o’clock and Lindy had half her mind on her boys upstairs. Billy was asleep but if she wasn’t careful, Ned, who quite audibly wasn’t, would wake him up.

‘Sorry, you two!’ she said now. ‘Why don’t you start without me?’ She ran back up the stairs hoping Ned’s loud singing hadn’t already woken his brother.

She was back down five minutes later, wondering, as she often did, if bribery was really as bad as all that if it worked.

‘OK. It should be fine now. Ned’s in my bed with a book. I’ll move him later. So, where are you?’

‘Well,’ said Rachel, who had her ubiquitous Emma Bridgewater hardbacked notebook on her knee, ‘we were just ticking things off the To Do list, where we can.’

‘Please let some things be crossed off,’ said Lindy. ‘I’ve got a very long list of things that aren’t.’ She wasn’t looking forward to admitting the major one.

‘OK, well, the hall is sort of decorated,’ said Rachel. ‘Not properly but—’

‘It looks a-mazing!’ said Beth. ‘You just wouldn’t recognise it from the night we met there. Everything white. The walls. The beams. The woodwork. It’s like a snow scene.’

‘I know!’ said Lindy. ‘It’s lovely.

‘It is but we’ll probably need to change some of that,’ said Rachel. ‘The paintwork needs to be a different colour. Maybe a pale grey—’ She stopped, aware the others were looking at her.

‘Is pale grey really a colour?’ said Lindy.

‘Whether it is or isn’t, we haven’t got time to do more painting now. We’ll have to jolly it all up with wreaths and things,’ said Beth.

‘But—’ said Rachel.

‘No, really, we haven’t time,’ said Beth firmly.

‘So that’s the hall,’ said Lindy, knowing they were depending on her for ‘wreaths and things’. ‘What about the catering?’

‘That’s all in hand,’ said Beth. ‘Lots of local people are donating their time and even ingredients. With April not having a mother, people just want to help.’

‘So what are we having to eat?’ Rachel seemed to need to write this down.

‘One woman is doing some massive pork pies as well as about five Victoria jam sponges – I’ve done quite a lot of bartering, teaching older people how to email in exchange for a plate of sausage rolls. Not only sausage rolls,’ she finished, seeing the expression on Rachel’s face.

‘Cool,’ said Rachel, ticking something. ‘Oh, and is the wedding cake sorted?’

‘It’s made. But it does need to be iced,’ said Beth. ‘I’ve been practising like mad. I’ve got quite good, although I say it myself.’

‘Well done, Beth!’ said Lindy. ‘Now, Rachel brought some wine. Anyone?’

‘Oh yes please,’ said Beth. ‘Would you like me to get it, Lind? You look as if you need to sit down for a bit and you’ve been working so hard.’

‘We all have,’ said Lindy, ‘but if you don’t mind … And when you come back, I’ve got something to confess.’

‘Cheers!’ said Beth brightly when she had returned with glasses and filled them.

‘So what’s your confession, Lindy?’ asked Rachel, looking worried.

Lindy sighed. ‘I haven’t finished the dress.’

‘But the wedding’s in a week!’ said Beth.

Lindy nodded hard. ‘I know! The trouble is, April and her fiancé got a deal and went off for a few days in the sun. Tristram’s got to start work the moment they reach America, so it’s a sort of honeymoon.’

‘Just before her wedding?’ said Rachel. ‘Unusual.’

‘She did sort of ask me if it was OK, but I could hardly say no. Anyway, I haven’t been able to get hold of her for fittings and when she did come for one we realised I’d have to move all the buttons, which meant new buttonholes. There’s really quite a lot of work involved. It’s not that I can’t do it,’ she went on, suppressing a mild feeling of panic, ‘but I don’t have that much time. And Ned’s been off school.’

‘Of course you’re really busy,’ said Beth. ‘You’re a mum and that’s your most important job.’

‘Why don’t you let me do the decorations for the hall?’ suggested Rachel. ‘I could take that off your hands, at least.’ She frowned. ‘Not sure quite when I’d fit it in but I’m sure—’

‘No!’ Lindy felt protective. ‘It’s OK. I love making wreaths and things and it would be relaxation after finishing the dress. I won’t be able to do it until the day before anyway, and if I haven’t finished the dress by then we’re in real trouble.’

‘It’ll be fine, I’m sure!’ said Beth breezily. ‘I’m looking forward to doing the cake actually. I can do that a couple of days before, as long as I’ve put the base coat on, so to speak.’

‘Oh God! Beth!’ Lindy bit her lip. ‘I’d forgotten. I told April it would be possible to copy the design of the lace to put on the cake.’

Beth’s breeziness dissipated. ‘I’ve only practised roses – her mother’s favourite flower. I was just grateful it wasn’t orchids or hyacinths or something really complicated.’ Her Charlie-induced happiness dimmed slightly.

‘I suppose I could tell her it’s out of the question but she will be disappointed,’ said Lindy. ‘She particularly wanted it because it was what her mother had. It’s her mother’s dress. She wanted the same.’

Beth sighed. ‘I’ll do it then.’

‘Surely transferring lace patterns on to cake isn’t something you can just do straight off, is it?’ Rachel sounded sceptical and worried.

‘There is absolutely nothing you cannot learn from YouTube,’ Beth said. ‘I have quite tidy handwriting and I’ll practise of course. Lindy, I might need your help tracing the lace pattern, but I’m sure it’ll be OK.’ She paused. No one spoke. ‘I watched a lot of
Cake Boss
when I was at uni. Me and my flatmates had a bit of a cake thing going on. And as I said, I have been practising.’

‘Well, if the lace thing doesn’t work, April will just have to make do with the roses,’ said Rachel, writing something down. ‘So when is she coming for a fitting?’

‘I’ll set one up with her soon. It should be fine,’ said Lindy.

‘Right,’ said Rachel. ‘Actually, I’ve got something to tell you. Something that should make us a bit of money.’

‘Fantastic!’ said Lindy. ‘We need some good news.’

Lindy and Beth looked at Rachel expectantly.

‘So?’ asked Beth when Rachel hadn’t answered after several tense seconds had ticked by.

‘I should say,’ said Lindy, ‘if it’s anything to do with lap-dancing, I’m not up for it. Just so you know.’

But seeing Rachel’s expression she realised she wasn’t in the mood for flippancy.

‘It’s to do with Raff,’ said Rachel.

Lindy groaned. ‘Oh God! I am so sorry, Rachel. It’s all my mother’s fault, she means well, but—’

‘No, it’s OK,’ said Rachel. ‘It’s not your mother’s fault, it’s Raff’s.’

‘Raff’s mother?’ said Lindy.

‘I can’t quite imagine him having a mother,’ said Beth.

‘Most people have, at least at one time in their lives,’ said Lindy.

‘It’s not even Raff’s fault. I didn’t have to go to dinner with his mother.’

‘You went to dinner with his mother?’ said Lindy.

‘What’s she like?’ said Beth. ‘And why did you go to meet her? Back up a bit, Rachel. I didn’t know you were even seeing Raff.’

‘No!’ Rachel almost shouted. ‘We’re not! Seeing each other, I mean. After we did the decorating that Saturday he invited me to his mother’s for a meal.’

Lindy was surprised. ‘I didn’t think you even liked him.’

‘I only like him as a friend!’ said Rachel, sounding defensive. ‘We’ve been out for a drink a couple of times and for a walk but I’ve always kept him – well, you know – at arms length. But we were both so tired and hungry. And Raff has been – helpful. And he let me do the mist coat on that Sunday. I got to use the machine.’

‘Actually I get that,’ said Beth. ‘It must have been fun.’

‘It was heaven,’ said Rachel. ‘I love turning things white. I was the Snow Queen in a past life,’ she said.

‘We saw the mist coat; don’t try and change the subject. Go back to his mother?’ said Lindy.

‘Her house is amazing!’ said Rachel. ‘Like something the National Trust has just been left, where nothing’s been thrown away for generations. Although in this case, it’s probably just for decades.’

‘Long enough, anyway,’ said Lindy. ‘I have met Raff’s mother a few times and she has a certain style. I wouldn’t have put her down as a hoarder, in an unbalanced way.’

Rachel considered. ‘Perhaps I was unfair. The house isn’t full of rubbish but it’s very full. Of everything. I think I offended her when I said clutter.’

‘Now my mother is prudish,’ said Beth. ‘I mean really prudish, but even she wouldn’t object to that particular “c” word.’

‘Agh!’ said Rachel. ‘You know what I mean! Anyway, her dining room had a massive table in it, absolutely covered with china. She said we could have it.’

‘What sort of china?’ asked Beth. ‘Shepherdesses and dogs?’

‘No. Eating-off china. All sorts. Whole dinner services – tea sets – we’ll never need to buy anything for weddings and we could probably sell quite a lot of it. Some of it’s really good stuff: Minton, Wedgwood, Crown Derby – all the big names.’

‘Why doesn’t Raff sell it for her?’ said Lindy. ‘I always thought he was quite good to his mother.’

‘I said that, but she’s not into selling things, even if Raff did it,’ said Rachel. She paused. ‘I did offer to help her sort out her house, of course.’

The other two nodded. ‘It’s an amazing offer,’ said Beth. ‘And imagine being able to serve food on vintage china. The proper stuff, not just car-boot finds that are called “vintage” because they’re not new.’

‘The village hall does have china,’ said Lindy. ‘Functional, but not special.’

‘Even my mother will be impressed if she’s eating her smoked-salmon sandwiches off vintage Derby plates.’

Everyone laughed but then Rachel said, ‘Although if there is any vintage Derby, we’d probably be better off selling it.’

‘When will you go over and have another look?’ said Lindy. ‘If it’s a weekday and it’s not a nursery day for Billy and I can get Gran to look after him, can I come?’

‘I think we should all go if we can,’ said Rachel. ‘There’s so much of it. We can’t go until after the wedding, I’ve already told Belinda that.’

‘It sounds so much fun,’ said Lindy. ‘Something to look forward to after the stress of the wedding.’

‘OK,’ said Rachel, who was looking at her notebook again. ‘What’s the news on the van?’

‘It just needs another valet, and it’s ready,’ said Beth and went pink. ‘He’s taken a while to get round to it.’

‘I took the cash out to pay for it the other day,’ said Rachel, reaching into her bag and producing an envelope. ‘Here you are. Don’t lose it between here and home.’

Beth put the envelope in her own messenger bag and zipped it up. ‘I’ll be careful.’

‘And is there anything else you’d like to tell us, Beth?’ asked Lindy gently. ‘To explain why you’re blushing? I’m assuming you’re not planning to run away with our money and spend it all on sweets.’

Beth giggled nervously. ‘No! But Charlie and I did spend an amazing day together. And he has taken me out for a drink since. He’s been lambing night and day, so it’s been difficult. And it’s early days, of course, but I do like him.’

‘Young love,’ said Lindy. ‘So sweet.’

‘I have to admit, I was getting a little jealous of my sister,’ said Beth, who was obviously happy to talk about Charlie. ‘She’s so loved up. I just thought it wouldn’t happen for me. But as I said, it’s early days, plenty of time for it all to go wrong.’ She sighed.

‘Why should it go wrong?’ said Lindy. ‘You’re lovely. Any man would be proud to have you on his arm.’ She paused. ‘Oh, did I sound like my gran just then?’

The other two nodded. ‘But that’s OK,’ said Beth. ‘I met her in the shop the other day and she was lovely.’

‘And you’re a bit young to be so pessimistic about love,’ said Rachel. ‘That usually happens at about my age.’

‘Well, you’re young too,’ said Beth. ‘And you’ve got Raff.’

‘I have absolutely not got Raff!’ said Rachel. ‘We are so unsuited it isn’t even funny suggesting there’s anything going on between us!’

‘What is it my gran says? “I think the lady does protest too much.” I think it’s Shakespeare,’ said Lindy.

Rachel shook her head. ‘No, really. He’s far too – unkempt for me. I like my men well groomed—’

‘And well heeled?’ suggested Lindy.

‘Not necessarily! But I do like them to have a proper profession.’

‘But Raff has a business,’ said Lindy. ‘Isn’t that OK?’

‘Lindy! You were the one who said I shouldn’t have anything to do with him,’ protested Rachel.

‘Not because he has a reclamation yard; because he’s unreliable with women,’ replied Lindy, suddenly anxious that maybe Rachel was a bit of a snob.

‘Well, whatever the reason is, I’d better get off,’ said Beth. ‘I’ve got to gear up my cake-decorating skills to whole new heights. How soon could you trace the lace pattern for me, Lindy?’

‘I’ll do it now if you can hang on,’ said Lindy. ‘And, Rachel, sorry if I sounded a bit judgemental.’

‘No, no,’ said Rachel. ‘I realise how it must have sounded. But I promise you that my problems with Raff are nothing to do with him being a posh form of scrap-metal merchant.’

The other two laughed and finished their wine. Then they said their goodbyes.

Beth went home clutching a bit of baking parchment with a leaf pattern on it pressed between the pages of a novel she’d borrowed for when she couldn’t cope with icing any more. She hoped Lindy didn’t feel abandoned when she and Rachel both rushed off, but she was hoping Charlie might ring and if he did, she wanted to take the call in private.

But she was not going to hang about waiting for a call. She would get on to YouTube and see if she really could learn to decorate cakes – and not just with roses – from it.

At eleven o’clock, when she was beginning to get boss-eyed from staring at her laptop watching piping bags dance over icing, creating flowers, swirls and filigree with unbelievable skill, she finally decided to go to bed. There had been no phone call from Charlie. She was terribly tempted to text him but couldn’t think what to say. A ‘good night!’ didn’t seem appropriate this early in their relationship. Maybe she could say ‘Any news on the van?’ Then she thought about it. Charlie was a farmer. Lambing was probably still going strong and he wouldn’t want a text this late. No, she wouldn’t text. But how she wished that he would. She was fretting a bit about how things had been left after their day out together. She’d seen him in the pub since, and he’d seemed fine – as friendly as ever – but she still worried that he’d think her a tease, even though it had been his phone that had stopped them. And while she had been disappointed, she had now begun to feel that they had been going a bit too fast too soon.