‘Aye,’ Jude agreed in a whisper. ‘Only it’s Minty who’s got the fever. I’m a bit left out in the cold. Still,’ Jude sighed, speaking at a normal volume once more. ‘There’s no one better to organise a do than Minty and I guess itisa Clove Lore wedding. It sort of belongs to the community, not me and Elliot. If you see what I mean?’
Joy didn’t, and she thought that something so private belonging to a bunch of meddling villagers sounded awful, but she didn’t want to say so. Instead she told her, ‘Weddings are a surprising amount of work.’ Then, thinking Jude might start wondering if she knew that because she was married herself, she added, ‘My sister’s an event planner. I’ve seen her throw away whole days on sourcing exactly the right colour chair covers.’
Jude whispered again. ‘Ah, you’ll have heard about Bridezillas then? Minty’s gone a bit Planner-zilla. Shouldn’t complain, I know, Minty knows what she’s doing,’ she added quickly, as Leonid barrelled towards them holding six mugs, signalling to everyone their short burst of activity was already over.
‘Al fresco?’ Monty called, abandoning his handful of books. ‘I’ll grab plates and forks. Meet you by the barbeque.’
The fresh fish was delicious wrapped up in the Chinese leaf that had wilted and crisped in a sweet, buttery way. There was only enough for a few little parcels each, eaten with torn hunks of baguette and washed down with wine. Monty didn’t take one bite for himself, only standing watching everyone else enjoying their food and seeming to be thinking very hard.
His cheeks were a little pink, Joy thought, as she observed him over her plate while Jude told her about her plans for decorating the wedding cake she’d made with her parents. Was he blushing? No, it wasn’t that. Not shyness. It was a look she recognised from long ago when she’d worked in a vibrant team and they’d completed projects together. The look of satisfaction over a job done well. The glow of enthusiasm. It suited him.
The afternoon sun and the camaraderie of the simple meal eaten standing around the barbeque fuelled everyone up for the hard work to come, and they passed back inside the shop focused on their shared task.
Joy felt her phone buzz inside her pocket and she stole a moment, hiding in the bathroom at the top of the stairs, to listen to the message. Patti’s voice bubbled with wicked excitement?
‘So you’re havinga party? With a guy? A guy with an accent? I’m guessing you’re someplace eastern European by the sounds of him?Go you, Joy! Call me back. Tell me all about him. Anything to liven up this wedding expo. Have you everbeento Slough? It’s not the first place you think of when you hear the wordsdestination wedding. Right, I’m going in to the keynote now. At least it’s on working with LGBTQ+ friendly celebrants. That’sgotto be better than thenew ways with napkin foldingdemo I just came out of. Call me. We still need to talk. Love you lots.’
Joy couldn’t help smiling, even if Patti had jumped to crazy conclusions. It was nice to hear her sister being excited for her, though she’d have to set her straight on the whole hot guy party thing.
Before she could do anything else, Radia was taking her hand and dragging her back down to General Fiction and manoeuvring her into position beside Monty. Radia made sure to squeeze in between the two of them, telling them she was going to help out.
Monty stooped for a pile of books and Radia, who’d got wind of Monty having his own boat, took this opportunity to demand details.
‘Does it have a name? All boats have names, don’t they? LikeWallisat… what was it called, Mum?’
‘Staten Island?’ Joy asked. ‘You meanOllis?’
‘That’s it. We had macadamia nuts in a jar on the ferry.’
‘And… we saw the Statue of Liberty?’ Joy reminded her, smiling.
‘That as well,’ Radia laughed, showing the little gap in her bottom row of teeth.
‘They call popsodathere, in America,’ she informed Monty, who pulled an impressed face.
‘I can’t compete with famous boats, macadamia nuts and soda,’ he said. His voice was kind and laughing. ‘My father’s little boat doesn’t have any of those things. He’s calledPeter’s Bounty.’
‘Is that your daddy’s name? Peter?’ Radia was asking, but it coincided with Joy wondering aloud about the boat being a ‘he’.
‘Aren’t boats usually female?’ she asked.
Radia laughed. ‘Boats aren’t girls or boys. Don’t be silly,’ and having been corrected, both Joy and Monty let their eyes meet with a smile.
It hadn’t escaped Joy’s notice, however, that Radia had just inquired about Monty’s ‘daddy’ and she got a little lost in her thoughts, wondering why the word hadn’t also been shortened to ‘dad’ in Radia’s mind, the way that ‘mummy’ had.
A twinge in her chest told her that Radia exalted the idea of daddies, even though she hardly ever mentioned Sean. Not that he was kept a secret or anything, only that he never really came up. Why would he? Their little girl had never even spoken with him. Still, there was clearly a deep appeal around the idea of a daddy in Radia’s mind. Joy was at a complete loss what to do about that. Telling her the absolute truth about Sean would crush her, or make her pity her mum, or maybe even blame her for the mess she’d got them all in, the way she blamed herself.
‘No,’ Monty was telling Radia. ‘That’ll be Saint Peter. He’s the patron saint of anything fishy. Net makers, shipbuilders, fishermen, that kind of thing. I suppose we call the boat “he” because of him.’
‘And you’re a fisherman?’ said Radia.
‘I am,’ he said, handing her some books to pass to Joy. ‘I was,’ he corrected himself.
Jude appeared at Monty’s back. ‘I’ve some Charles Dickens and a du Maurier here.’
‘We’re still on the Alexanders and Allens,’ Joy told her.
‘Give them here.’ Monty took them and added them to the jumble of books around his feet before seeming to remember he had something to ask her.
