I try to find a bright side. ‘It gives you time to catch up on your pram ordering. And your baking.’ From the piles of full cake containers on the work surface, she could be cooking for Cornwall.
Her nostrils flare. ‘If I see one more Christmas Pudding cupcake, I might just scream.’
‘Fine.’ If she wasn’t off alcohol, I’d already be making her a Winter Warmer. If ever I saw a girl in need of a wind-down tipple, it’s Poppy.
As she sits up, her chin’s doing a strange kind of wobble. ‘The trouble is, even though Rafe pops in, I’m actually really lonely. Stuck in here all on my own makes me feel excluded. Daisy Hill Farm weddings were so much my thing, and suddenly they aren’t any more. Feeling shut out is horrible.’
When I look closely, it’s only the dim light that’s masking the shadows under her eyes. ‘But don’t you get tired by the weddings?’ I hesitate. ‘Extra tired, I mean, with your bump?’ I’m sure Rafe is only being protective, suggesting she stays here.
She gives a rueful shrug. ‘Iamtired. And grumpy. But actually, most of all, I hate that it’s all going fine without me.’ As she bites her lip, her face crumples.
‘Babe.’ I cross to her sofa, put my arm round her shuddering shoulders, and push a tissue into her hand. ‘We’re all here to help you. No one’s trying take over. It’ll all be here waiting for you as soon as you’re ready to come back once the baby’s here.’ Poppy’s been so strong since she came to work at the farm. What’s more, she’s been storming around as if her bump wasn’t there. So it’s unnerving to see her upset, just when she seemed to be coping so well. But I know it’s more than my life’s worth to mention pregnancy hormones.
After a few more gasps, her shivers subside and she gives a gulp. ‘I know it’s silly. And irrational. But I can’t bear that I’m not going to be there any more when the bride says what a lovely day she’s had.’
My heart goes out to anyone whose nose is redder than mine. ‘Let’s have some hot chocolate.’ Poppy and Rafe’s fridge is the size of a small barn and they have a herd of dairy cows, so hopefully they’ll have enough milk. I grab a pan and open up the Aga top.
Poppy sniffs. ‘I’d like that. I’m sorry, I feel so mean for grumbling.’
I can completely understand why she feels awful. ‘It’s the change that’s the hardest part. And handing over what you’ve built up.’ As I wait for the milk to warm, I find a soft throw and tuck it around her. As I bustle around, I’m throwing out random thoughts. ‘But you need to think of the guys as looking after weddings while you’re away. And it’s only for a while.’ I’m whisking the chocolate powder into the frothy milk, adding squirty cream, grating on some dark chocolate. ‘You’re close enough to keep an eye on things. And you can always pop in for a guest appearance …’ I’m searching the baking shelf, locating the marshmallows, when a gentle snore floats over from the sofa.
‘Poppy, are you …?’
I tiptoe over to check. Eyes closed. Fair ponytail spread across the grey wool sofa. A hundred per cent asleep. And this time I wasn’t even singing.
If I didn’t love her so much, I’d drink her hot chocolate as well as mine. Seeing as I do, I leave her full mug next to her on the side table, just in case she wakes from her nap. And give Jet the kind of stern stare that Jules would be proud of when I retreat to the other sofa and tell him not to snaffle the cream.
But in the end, Poppy doesn’t move. By the time my taxi arrives half an hour later, she’s drifted into a deep sleep.
Chapter 10
Wednesday 6th December
At Brides by the Sea: Drop-ins and blind spots
‘Have you heard from Jess today?’
It’s Poppy, arriving at the shop late the next afternoon, in time to help with what, from the appointments book, looks like a mass collection of groomsmen’s suits.
I look up from the desk, where I’ve been sorting through my pictures since early this morning, and nod at the phone. ‘Jess has rung every half hour. If not more.’ How can I spend all day shuffling pictures? Discarding the rubbish ones is easy, but it’s amazing how long it takes to sort the rest. If you’re a ditherer like me, faced with a couple of thousand shots from the day, the tweaking could go on forever.
Poppy’s brow wrinkles. ‘That bad? And Jess has barely been away a couple of days. I knew we should have installed webcams in every room.’
I shake my head. ‘If she had more signal, she’d be on Skype full time. Lucky for us, halfway up a mountain, she’s got problems with her buffering.’
‘So is there anynews?’ Poppy’s eyebrow wiggle tells me exactly the kind she’s asking about.
I laugh. ‘She’s found Kaffee Klatsch, which sounds exactly like Jaggers Bar, but with gluhwein and an upper level.
Poppy’s eyes go wide. ‘Jeez, these skiers must be hardcore. There’s no way Jaggers’ customers could negotiate stairs after Happy Hour.’
I carry on. ‘The chalet’s got a fabulous balcony. There are six bathrooms, but they’re all on the small side.’
Poppy’s listening intently as she slips off her Barbour and hangs it in the kitchen. ‘That’s the trouble with living at the Manor. Everywhere else will feel like a doll’s house afterwards. Is there any sign of a ring?’
‘Not yet.’ I have a feeling we’ll be asking the same question every hour for the next two weeks. ‘If he hasn’t done it already, he might leave it until the last day? Unless he’s planning to take her somewhere special.’ It’s ironic. After making a complete wreck of my own proposal, I’ve become the expert on them.
Poppy’s flicking through the rail of suits that Sera brought out earlier. ‘And how are the pictures?’
