The smile that spreads across his face is so broad, he actually gets dimples in his cheeks. ‘The aisle ones are the pictures that are missing. I remember now, you swapped to a different camera for those.’
‘I did?’ I’m busy swallowing back the whoosh that swept through my chest when I saw those slices in his face. But I’ll take his word for it. For me the day is all a blur. Then it sinks in. ‘Shit, Nancy walking down the aisle is pretty significant.’ Even if the aisle was only a gap between rows of bleached wood chairs and twiggy lavender posies.Shit, shit shit.And I used that camera for the confetti shots too.
He’s already pulling his camera out of the bag. ‘If I’ve got them, they’ll be quite near the start of mine, after the pub, and the guys messing around outside when they arrived.’
My voice is like an echo. ‘You took pictures of the groomsmen on the beach too?’
He shakes back his hair and grins. ‘Of course. All the best wedding albums have pics of the guys before. I might look like a washed-up rock star, but I’m notpurelydecorative.’
‘Or modest.’ I have to mutter it. He might be about to save me, but I still need to counteract his eye-watering big headedness. However short his life-plan plans have fallen, he still comes over as mighty pleased with himself. As I watch him, poring over the screen on the back of the camera, I’m clutching my arms round my ribs, willing him to find the pictures to fill my gaps. If he comes through on this one, I might just have to …
‘Here you go. Am I superhuman, or what?’ He pushes the camera into my hand, then raises his fists in a silent cheer. ‘How’s that for a result?’
On the first shot he’s wobbled the camera, the next has someone’s head in the way, but the third is passable. Nancy is clinging onto her dad’s arm, biting her lip. No idea how it’s possible to look terrified and blissfully happy at the same time, but she does. ‘Wow, I think you just saved me.’ Definitely useable, with a bit of cropping. And the fourth is … ‘Totally bloody brilliant.’ I know the risks of bigging him up. But just this second I couldn’t give a damn.
His grin is rueful. ‘I might be totally shit at nappy changing. But, like I told you, for weddings and parties, I’m a good bet.’
Whizzing through the camera roll, I can see he’s got some good confetti shots too. ‘Brilliant. Thank youso, somuch, Rory.’ How the hell can I thank him for this? ‘And thanks so much for taking me, and everything. Another hot chocolate?’
But he’s already looking at his watch, then towards the landing. ‘Thanks for the offer. But if you’re sure you’re completely sorted, I’d better get back for Chas and Immie.’
‘Absolutely.’ Definitely the right answer from Rory. The sooner he gets out of this kitchen and down those stairs, the better, really. As he hesitates by the door my stomach flips.
He gives a low laugh. ‘No need to look so scared. I am leaving.’ Although he’s actually come all the way back into the kitchen and his hand is on my shoulder. The one firm squeeze he gives me sends a seismic wave through my torso. ‘Well done for today, Holly Berry. You definitely nailed it. Carry on like this and you might be needing those Super Woman pyjamas after all.’ Although he’s totally glossing over that a lot of it was down to him.
This time round he’s grabbed his windcheater from the table end. And then he’s gone.
As I listen to the echo of his footsteps as he winds all the way down to the street, I’m bracing myself. ‘Okay, clearing up, and then bed.’ If Poppy’s back here to cook tomorrow, she can’t come in to the devastation of today’s breakfast.
And it’s only when I stand up and brace myself to stagger to the washing-up pile that I look around and see that everything is clean. Sink shining. Hob buffed to Poppy’s exacting standards. Apart from my hot chocolate mug, there’s not a dish out of place.
Chapter 20
Tuesday 12th December
At the Fun Palace at the Crab and Pilchard: Rock bottom and other happy places
Piped music with a kids’ choir singingJingle Bells. Tinsel garlands strung across the room. Dangling fold-out bells strategically placed to hit you in the face. A ten foot tree, groaning under the weight of decorations, complete with multi-coloured chaser lights. Last December, I admit, I’d have gasped at the ombré rainbow effect they’ve created by zoning the bauble colours in bands on the tree and rushed home to create a mini version of my own. If I’d seen this brave berry palette last year, with additions of lime, Tiffany blue, and shrimp, it would have been snapped and posted on my Pinterest pages and Insta within seconds of me arriving. But as I stand this year, if I’d asked the elf interior decorators from hell to create my ‘worst-case scenario’ festive backdrop, the Fun Palace at the Crab and Pilchard pub has gone one better. It really is a case of not being able to see the ball cage or the soft play area for the baubles. Add in a mechanical Santa, riding on a humungous sleigh of toys, pulled by eight animated reindeer, and it’s top of the pole so far for my personal nightmare environment this December.
On the other hand, I can completely understand why the Christmas explosion and singing reindeer are striking a chord with the kids. Gracie’s standing transfixed at the edge of a small group, joggling both Immie’s snowmen.
Poppy wheels Teddie’s pushchair to a halt, puts their apple juices down on the table next to the bouncy castle and sinks into a chair. ‘Howcute is that? Gracie’s singing along and Rudolf’s actually dancing in time to the music.’
She wasneverthis mushy or susceptible before she fell in love and got pregnant. Her eyes widen as she catches sight of Immie’s soft drink. ‘Not having a beer today?’
She’s right to be surprised. The Crab and Pilchard’s real ale selection is the main reason we’re in this particular beachside bar. Not that we usually hit the alcohol this early in the afternoon. But once Immie mentioned a play area attached to a pub, suddenly Rory couldn’t wait to visit. Although, true to form, as soon as he’d roped the three of us into coming along as well, he delivered us to the door, then remembered an urgent errand he had to dash off on. We all know he’s got a lot on, running the wine business and the brewery at arm’s length, and we all sympathise. As a rule of thumb, the second he hands the changing bag to someone else, you know he’s about to make a break for freedom. Not that any of us mind, but we still laugh about it all the same. At least if Poppy’s away from the farm and the shop she’s more likely to have a sit down. And Immie’s overseen all her cottage changeovers for the day. As for me, I picked out some pictures for Nancy and Scott’s Best Moments Mini-Album and sent them to Jules to forward yesterday. Since then I’ve been messing with the rest pretty much non-stop. After all that screen work, Poppy’s offer of an hour in a play zone, complete with chat, sounded like bliss. In fact, Rory buggering off and leaving us on our own is the icing on my own personal afternoon cupcake.
Immie takes a sip of her raspberry coloured drink and pulls a face. ‘However bleugh they taste, I’m sticking to the J2Os, at least until the boys arrive.’ Rafe’s supposed to be dropping in too. As she turns to me she seems anxious to move the conversation on. ‘What’s the news from the Alps today, Hols?’
As I push the nappy bag under the table and put down my coffee I can’t help smiling. ‘Poor Jess. Bart hauled her out of bed so early this morning, it was practically the middle of the night. Then they went trekking across this mountainside to see the dawn breaking before breakfast. She froze her butt off and marched for an hour, all to see a peachy sunrise over the snowcapped peaks.’
Poppy chimes in. ‘And shestilldidn’t get her ring. It’s driving her wild. But she has given in on one thing – she’s wearing her salopettes now. And swapped her linen slacks for ski leggings.’
Immie gives a chortle. ‘If I know Kip’s Uncle Bart, he’ll be loving this. Although he’s definitely right with his tactics. Prolonging the anticipation has been scientifically proved to increase levels of eventual happiness.’ It’s always useful to have a psychologist’s view. Even if she hasn’t done many modules of her degree yet, Immie’s always great for her insights.
I laugh. ‘If that’s true, Jess is going to be beside herself by the time he does pop the question. So long as she doesn’t snap and push him off the mountain first.’ I was the one talking to her this morning, so I know how wound up she is.
Poppy shakes her head. ‘Bart’s so naughty. You should have seen him last summer. He literally teased Jess into submission to make her go out with him.’ She gives Immie a nod. ‘She’s also managed to talk to Jules on Skype.’
