‘You can say no, Hattie darling.’
Hattie shook her head. ‘It’s our parents’ Golden Wedding anniversary party. I can’t leave it all to her.’
‘I suppose not.’
‘And she did at least ask me nicely. She’s doing what she can from Switzerland, like checking everyone’s dietary requirements, but some of it needs a woman on the ground.’
‘In my day you just sent out invitations and people said if they could come or not. One does wonder what happened to the people who were gluten or dairy intolerant.’
‘They probably didn’t realise that was wrong with them, or they just suffered in silence. Anyway, we have to look after our guests these days. And – and this is the worst part – they need me to work out a seating plan. I don’t know who most of the people are!’
‘Could you do something like assign a family member to each table, to act as host, and then let people sit where they want?’
‘That sounds a brilliant idea but I suspect it’s too free-thinking for my parents. They are very dependent on order.’
‘Then why don’t they work out their own seating plan?’
Hattie nodded. ‘When I can work out a tactful way to put it, I will ask that very question!’
Chapter Twenty-Five
Although she missed Xander a lot, having to make do with the odd link to a TikTok or photograph he sent from his dad’s, Hattie found herself extremely busy in the run up to the Golden Wedding celebrations. She had agreed to keep a weather eye on the lodge for Aiden as it was turned into an Airbnb, which considering all the rent he had saved her over the years seemed fair enough; there were some niggles with Nick’s house to clear up and she had other clients to look after. And now she also spent a fair bit of time looking after Mary and the house. She did it willingly but it was no small undertaking.
With the help of Leonie’s spreadsheet, she was working on the seating plan. This meant she had to make a plan for each table, send it to her parents, and then alter it to their ever-changing requirements. While she was on the telephone to her mother, the subject of a dress code came up.
‘You don’t need to tell people what to wear for a function like this,’ said her mother. ‘They will know what is appropriate. Except you, of course. I want you to look smart, Harriet. Nothing “pre-loved”, please.’
While Hattie was accustomed to her mother telling her what to do, it was a surprise to hear the words ‘pre-loved’on her mother’s lips. She would have put money on her mother having no idea what the expression meant.
‘So it means a shopping trip,’ said Hattie to Mary, who was now almost as invested in the preparations as Hattie was. ‘Or a borrowing trip perhaps. I just wish I knew more what would be suitable.’ She sighed. ‘Maybe I should pop into Cirencester or Cheltenham. It can’t be that hard to find something nice to wear.’ Although as she said this, in her heart Hattie knew it was always far harder than it should be.
‘So, long or short?’ said Mary.
‘I think a lovely summer dress should do it.’
‘Come with me,’ said Mary, putting her hand on the table and getting to her feet. ‘I don’t think I’ve ever shown you my overflow wardrobe, have I? It’s in the little room along here.’
Mary, it seemed, had a second wardrobe full of clothes encased in plastic covers. ‘I don’t keep everything I’ve ever owned, but I have kept a few really good pieces, that I felt were worth the space.’ She pushed the hangers along and then peered at the top of a dress. ‘I’ve written a brief description of what’s here – if I can read my handwriting. Yes! This is the one.’
She pulled out a dress and handed it to Hattie. ‘Have a look. What do you think?’
Hattie unzipped the plastic covering. ‘I never knew you had all these lovely dresses, Mary!’
‘I don’t mention them because they are my hidden treasure. I can’t leave you my house, however much I might want to—’
‘That sort of thing only happens in books.’
‘But I could leave you my clothes. In fact, I’d like you to have them now. Clive doesn’t know about them.’
‘Mary, you can’t. They’re valuable!’ But Hattie wasn’t concentrating on value, she was just enchanted by the dress that she had pulled from the hanger and held up to her body.
She turned to a mirror in the corner. The dress was navy blue with a cream collar and cuffs round the elbow-length sleeves. Cream satin buttons went down the front. A very full skirt hung from the waist, landing, as far as Hattie could tell, just below her knee.
‘I wore it with a petticoat which should be in there,’ said Mary. ‘It’s very Doris Day, but so pretty. Try it on! Look, there’s an old-fashioned screen tucked next to the wardrobe. It was my mother’s. Open it up.’
‘It’s probably far too small. Vintage clothes are always tiny.’
‘I wasn’t tiny and you’re by no means large. Go behind the screen and try.’
