‘That’s the past,’ said Rosie, firmly, as they turned the corner to the garage.
‘Okay, well, let’s see about your future.’
Martin was standing in his overalls, a spanner in one hand which he raised in greeting. ‘Here she is, the fire starter. Glad to see you survived the incident on the beach,’ he said. ‘Honestly, I was about to dial 999.’ He laughed. ‘It was like a pyrotechnic display. Some people would pay good money to see that.’
Grace laughed a bit too loudly. ‘When we arrived, all I could smell was Rosie’s singed eyebrows.’ She began laughing even more. ‘I’ve never actually seen her look anything but calm and in control before. It was quite refreshing.’
‘Glad you found it so amusing,’ said Rosie, which made them laugh even more.
‘Let’s have a drink,’ said Grace, still smiling. ‘Martin? Fancy a cocktail?’
‘Now you’re talking,’ he said. ‘I could leave the van here, okay with you?’ He looked at Rosie and she ignored Grace’s bony elbow screwing into her side.
‘Let’s relax and enjoy the evening. Rosie and I are off duty, François will be on his way.’ She checked her watch. ‘He’ll be finished soon.’
‘I hope Martin and I don’t cramp your style,’ teased Rosie.
‘I’m being friendly, that’s all,’ she insisted. ‘Entente cordiale and all that. Poor François doesn’t have any friends here yet. And he spends all day in that hot kitchen. The poor man is dehydrated and needs a nice drink.’ She set out three glasses and then added ice, gin and elderflower. ‘Made with Teddy’s home-made cordial,’ she said, passing one to Rosie.
Martin was sitting back in the old wooden chair, his drink on the armrest. ‘I could get used to this,’ he said, taking a sip. ‘You two are playing a blinder with this wedding. It’s all going well.’ He smiled at Rosie, holding up his glass in a salute.
‘Apart from a few technical glitches,’ said Grace, sitting down on the deckchair beside him, ‘I think it’s been a triumph.’
‘But we haven’t even done the actual wedding yet,’ said Rosie. ‘We’ve still got a whole day to go…’
But then they heard a voice, someone screaming from the marquee. It sounded like Nessa.
Grace, Rosie and Martin all leapt up and began running. Along the gravel, around the side of the hotel, past the kitchen, across the terrace, and down the steps leading to the lawn and the marquee. Across the grass, they jogged until they slipped through the door of the tent and went inside. The music had stopped, the beautiful flower arch scattered on the ground, and a sobbing Nessa, arms folded, was glaring at Laurence.
Martin turned and now had his arm around Laurence. ‘Come on, fella, let’s go outside. Time to leave.’
‘I’m sorry, babes,’ Laurence was saying to Nessa, and then louder, to all the guests. ‘I’m sorry, everyone, okay? I got carried away. I was enjoying myself too much and I wasn’t thinking of Nessa and the kids enough. It’s just that you’re all really cool people, and you’re great company.’
Rosie went to touch Nessa’s sleeve but she shook her off. ‘He’s driven me to this,’ she said, her eyes full of tears. ‘And I’ve made a holy show of me, the hotel and I’ve destroyed everything!’
But as Rosie looked around at everyone’s faces, they seemed amused and interested if anything, far from annoyed.
Laurence continued speaking to the guests. ‘But Nessa’s completely right. I have let her down. And I have been useless. And I tell you what, that’s not cool.’
There was a man’s voice from somewhere in the crowd. ‘Don’t worry about it, Lolmeister!’
Laurence raised his hand. ‘No, but I do worry about it. Nessa’s my wife. I have to save my marriage.’ He grinned suddenly. ‘Ironic, considering the circs. Weddings and all that. But anyway, sorry, folks. Especially Niamh and Seán. I won’t be bothering you again.’
‘Don’t go, Lolly!’ another voice from the back of the crowd said, making everyone laugh.
‘Sorry everyone!’ shouted Laurence, as he allowed himself to be ushered out by Martin, Nessa walking behind, her hands over her face.
‘You’re grand,’ called out someone.
Another said, ‘Mind yourself, Mr Nightingale!’
Laurence gave them all a thumbs up.
Rosie began to lift the flower arch and then she felt a pair of hands raise it up with her. Patrick.
‘You okay?’ he said, as they settled it back into place.
‘Laurence has ruined the wedding,’ she hissed.
