Her nod escalates into a wail. ‘The guys have gone off to look for the canvas, but even if they find it, it’s hopeless. How did we ever think a beach wedding with camping would work at Christmas?’
There’s no point admitting I’ve asked myself the same thing. For me, even sleeping in a tent in summer stretches my comfort envelope. Why anyone would want to do it in winter is beyond me. Add in a wedding, and I can’t get my head around it at all. ‘I know it’s all about the sea, Becks. But given the – er – gale difficulties, would you think about moving to a more sheltered location? Somewhere further inland?’ As Jess and I exchange glances, it’s obvious we’re thinking of the same place.
Becky’s head shoots up. ‘You know somewhere that’s available at such short notice?’
I’m treading carefully. ‘Daisy Hill Farm, where your parents are staying, has a barn, which I know is still set up from a very relaxed ski wedding on Monday. If you don’t mind that it’s not at the beach, we could ask about using that?’
I’m expecting reservations. So when she almost knocks me over hugging me I’m not ready for her.
‘Yes, yes, yes!’
The only good thing about ending up in a heap halfway along the hall floor, is the view of the Jimmy Choos on the bottom shelf of the shoe cabinet. I’m lying having a quiet swoon at the silver strappy sandals when a close up of Jess’s furry snow boot brings me back to earth.
Jess is beaming down at us. ‘Surfing and snowboarding are highly interchangeable. They’re both about hanging loose.’ She sounds like she’s the expert on both now. ‘Great work, Holly, you handled that like a true pro. In that case there’s no time to lose. I’ll ring Poppy right away.’
As I see the smile of relief spreading across Becky’s face, I wouldn’t have it any other way.
Jess hesitates as she turns to leave. ‘Just one other thing. While you’re down there, Becky, do settle the argument. Luciscoming back to see Holly, isn’t he?’
Becky grins across at me. ‘Of course he is. Everyone knows that. Why else would he be coming?’
For what it’s worth, if she’d said that before, I might have been less keen to resurrect her wedding party.
Chapter 34
Friday 22nd December
The Barn at Daisy Hill Farm: My worst day ever
The Snow Surf Board Wedding
The funny thing about dreading something is, it rarely plays out the way it has in your head. At any time in the last week I’d have billed this as the worst day of my life this decade, but it begins with Rory popping in to make his second breakfast, and my first. And I have to admit, smoked salmon and scrambled egg on wholemeal bagels is a great start to any day. Even if he is still making rude remarks about my jim-jams and calling me Champs-Élysées Holly across the little kitchen table, at least it distracts me. Because every time I remember I’ll be seeing Luc in barely two hours’ time, I shudder so hard I almost drop my coffee cup.
The good news is that as soon as Kip and Rafe gave the go-ahead yesterday, Nate and Becky and their gang transferred their wedding operation seamlessly from the shore to the barn. The immediate clearing up after Monday’s wedding had been done, but most of the bigger props were still there to use. So the surfies moved in to festoon the walls with hanging wet suits and surfer t-shirts. The Christmas tree had a whole load of surfboard leashes added, to give a beachy twist to the festive cheer. With surfboards propped up against it, the plank bar was soon looking more surf shack than mountain hideaway. Everyone was so enthusiastic and supportive, that if there had been any more time, I’m sure Rafe would have gone out on his tractor and brought in a beach, like the ones you see in parks in the summer. And once theGone Surfingsigns and posters forEndless SummerandBeach Partieswere in place, the transformation was complete.
Immie’s found room in the holiday cottages for most of the wedding party, who should have been staying by the beach. A few of the die-hard guests are still pitching low tents in the field behind the wedding barn, sheltered in the lee of the hill. As for the more upmarket guests like Luc, who’ve booked into the lovely and rather swanky Harbourside Hotel in St Aidan. Well, all they’ll have to tweak is their taxi bookings.
As we set off for the farm after breakfast and bump through the lanes to Rose Hill village, the beer-mobile is being buffeted by the gusts from the gale. Because Nate and Becky were never expecting the full ‘Jules photographic’ works, Rory skips his groomsmen visit and looks in on Gracie and Teddie instead. And I go and take all the girlie pics with Becky, who, unusually for a bride, is already looking relaxed rather than nervous.
As I come back in after photographing her posy of sea holly and dusky blue anemones, she flings her arms around my neck. ‘I don’t know how I’m ever going to thank you for saving our wedding, Hols.’ For the first time this morning she’s teary rather than laughing. ‘I’ll definitely be sprinkling my own special cupid dust on you and Luc later. But if there’s anything else I caneverdo for you, you only have to say.’
It really isn’t like me to take people up on their offers. But her make-up looks stunning and her bestie bridesmaid who did it is all ready and sitting with nothing left to do. I peer into a make-up box that’s bursting with cosmetics. ‘If you really mean that, I’d love a bit of lippy?’ Not that I’d usually bother. But seeing I downed tools and came to help here yesterday, the only personal make- over I had time for was couple of coats of black nail varnish.
Becky’s back to beaming. ‘We can do much better than a smudge of lippy. That’s the beauty of having a bridesmaid who works on the Benefit counter.’ She turns to the girl by the make-up, who’s already put on her bridesmaid’s H&M tropical-print maxi dress. ‘Bride’s request, please Carmel. Make Holly especially lovely. Whatever it takes, she’s not going to end the day single.’
I love Becky. Seriously, though, I wish she wouldn’t do those winks. But after Carmel’s done her stuff, I do feel totally up for whatever’s going to be thrown at me.
The rest of the morning is as frantic as any wedding, with the added complication of zooming to a very blustery St Aidan for the ceremony. Running across the Town Hall car park, the wind is so strong it’s practically tearing the dresses off the bridesmaids, which in the end leads to some pretty amazing pictures. Not many couples will have wedding albums that look as if they got married in a wind tunnel. And it’s so lucky that Becky chose a little boho cotton dress from Topshop. If she’d had pouffy petticoats, I think she might well have taken off.
As we go up the wide steps between the tall columns of the Town Hall portico, the hotel guests file in to join us. Despite choosing upmarket accommodation, they’re mostly embracing the casual dress code, wearing shorts and hoodies. A lot of these people are Luc’s friends too, but I’m really not prepared for so many enthusiastic hugs and waves. This is the point where I’m literally having kittens. Forget any wedding-stress shutter quake, this is purely down to the thought of bumping into Luc. I’m desperately scanning the horizon, so he doesn’t creep up on me unexpectedly. Then just when I feel like I might explode with the toxic mix of fear and anticipation, Nate comes across to where I’m fiddling with my lens cap.
He’s looking completely fab in his boarding shorts and Hawaiian shirt, as he leans in to my ear. ‘Just to tell you, Luc’s been delayed for a couple of hours. At least.’
‘Phew to that.’ I almost drop my camera with the relief.
The first bars of the Beach Boys’Good Vibrationsare playing, but he beckons me back. ‘Don’t worry, Hols, he’ll definitely be here at some stage. You twoaremeant to be together.’
‘Great.’ As I give him a thumbs-up, I’m meaning anything but. ‘Good luck, anyway.’
