34
‘So, Finula’s staying in room 3 and the rest of the rooms will definitely be complete by next week? I don’t want me family having to rough it,’ teased Dermot.
‘Excuse me!’ exclaimed Christie in good humour. ‘I think you’ll find those bedrooms are absolutely spot on and your family will be nothing but impressed by The Templar!’
He laughed. ‘To be sure they will.’ All the rooms had been painted now and Christie just had to add the finishing touches. The pieces she and Daniel had bought in Gloucester looked fantastic, really giving them charm and definition. Even Dermot had to concede they were a huge improvement on the old, slightly tired-looking décor that he never would have thought to change; but that’s what a fresh pair of eyes did for you, he’d told her, and a young pair at that.
He’d gently enquired about her relationship with Daniel, once he’d left to return to his parents. Christie was discreet, although she suspected Dermot knew more than he was letting on. He may be getting older, but he was no fool, she’d learnt. Christie also thought it was sweet of him to care, which he obviously did. It clearly hadn’t bothered Daniel: the fact that Dermot was trying to match-make, judging by the way he had casually sauntered down to breakfast the following morning after he’d stayed the night with her. She suspected Dermot had an inkling as to what had gone on but was keeping it to himself.
For Daniel it seemed business as usual as he had chatted away to Dermot, not in the least affected by having shared Christie’s bed. He’d been very open and tactile with her, which made Christie tingle inside. It had been a long time since she’d been made to feel special. Her heart again cried out for him when he had to leave to go to his parents. The court hearing was tomorrow. She’d hugged him hard before he left.
‘I’ll be thinking of you,’ she’d told him huskily.
‘Thanks.’ He’d given a sad smile. There had been a weighty pause. He’d slung his rucksack over his shoulder. ‘I’ll be in touch.’ He’d kissed her full on the lips, in front of Dermot who’d been by the reception area. Then she’d watched him go, hoping and praying he’d get the outcome he desperately wanted.
Her thoughts constantly turned to Daniel and what he was about to face. She could only imagine the emotional trauma he was suffering.
‘So, just to recap,’ Dermot said now as he squinted to look at the A4 sheet of paper containing Finula’s instructions, ‘the cases of champagne will be delivered next week. The flowers are ordered. The wedding cars are booked. All the rooms will be spick and span, ready for the guests.’
‘Yes, Dermot. Stop panicking. I have done this before you know,’ Christie reassured him.
‘Well I haven’t,’ retorted Dermot, looking slightly flustered, ‘and it’smydaughter we’re talking about.’ Then his face looked crestfallen. ‘What if it rains?’ He turned to look at the back lawn through the window.
‘It won’t,’ said Christie with certainty.
‘But what if it does?’ Dermot was beginning to look even more agitated.
‘Dermot, the long-range weather forecast says blue skies and sunshine for goodness’ sake,’ she cut in, a tad impatiently. Honestly, there was Daniel about to go to court to fight for his daughter and here was Dermot faffing about a bit of rain! Dermot blinked, quite taken by surprise at the tone of her voice. Immediately sensing this Christie apologised. ‘Sorry, Dermot, I didn’t mean to snap.’
Dermot looked thoughtfully at her. ‘When is Daniel returning to Treweham?’
Christie looked down. ‘I’m not sure. He has business to attend to.’
‘I see,’ he replied nodding sagely.
*
‘I’ve finished the wedding cake and stored it safely in Tupperware.’
‘Very good.’ Marcus was on his laptop at the kitchen table.
‘I’ve wrapped my dress and it needs to be laid flat on the back seat with nothing placed on it.’
‘OK.’ Marcus still didn’t take his eyes off the screen.
‘Marcus, are you even listening to me?’
He looked up. ‘Yes.’ Then he returned to the laptop.
‘Marcus, have you sorted out your morning suit?’
‘It’s in hand.’
‘What’s that supposed to mean?’ she asked, hands on her hips.
‘It means that Tobias is sorting out all our suits – mine, his and Sebastian’s – so we’re matching.’
‘Have you actually organised anything at all for your own wedding?’ The frustration in her voice made him smirk.
