Immie sniffs. ‘They’re suitable for under-threes, Rory. You’ll have to grow up a bit before you have yours.’ And given she’s name perfect with the kids, she’s well briefed, as well as having Rory down to a T.
‘You two know each other too?’ There’s a lot I’ve missed out on since I was last home.
Immie pulls a face. ‘Not only does he hang round the farm incessantly with Rafe but since he got his own bottling plant, he’s always at the Goose and Duck too.’ For anyone who’s not local, that’s the pub in Rose Hill, where Immie does glass collecting in return for pints and other favours. Like catering at her wedding reception.
Poppy sends Immie and Rory a warning frown. ‘Are you going to say thank you to Immie, Gracie?’
Gracie’s pout deepens. ‘Actually, mostly I likepropersnowmen … like Olaf.’
Poppy makes her voice bright. ‘AnotherFrozenfangirl moment there, I’m afraid, Immie. My cupcakes got the thumbs-down too. We clearly can’t win them all with a three-year-old.’
As for Rory, I’m quietly delighted to witness him being brought to his knees by two kids so fast. It’s heartening to know Rory Sanderson has an Achilles heel after all.
Rory gives a grunt. ‘From where I’m kneeling, I’d say we haven’t wonanyyet. But it’s very early days.’ Now he’s coming head to head with the same headstrong genes he’s got himself, he sounds less than delighted. ‘I might be temporarily troubled by the technicalities of nappy changing. But give me a couple of hours to read the manual, I’m hoping to be across the whole game.’
‘Whichgame’s that?’ I can’t believe I actually said that out loud either. My mouthy side is certainly working overtime today. I might have zero experience looking after children, but I’m still incredulous he can sound so sure of himself, and that he thinks this is going to be easy.
Rory gives a snort. ‘I’ve overseen billion pound corporate contracts. I’m the South West’s biggest quality wine importer. I brew barrels of magnificent pints every day. Throwing a couple of kids into the mix for a week should be child’s play.’ He stares around the circle of disbelieving expressions. ‘What? How hard can it be? It’s great you women are all crowding around to help, but I’ll be coming at this from a no-nonsense male perspective. Just watch me. I’ll crack it in no time.’
Immie makes a choking sound. ‘Snorting toad bottoms, now I’ve heard it all.’ She catches sight of Gracie’s wide-eyed surprise and grins down at her. ‘There’s nothing wrong with a woman speaking her mind. It’s important to say what you think, Gracie.’ A second later she’s picked up the mat, scooped up Teddie and plonked herself down on the grey striped bridesmaids’ chaise longue.
Rory’s jaw is sagging. ‘Whatever happened to showingmewhat to do?’
‘Gracie, pass me the wipes, please, a nappy and the scented bags.’ Immie shakes her head at Rory as she peels off Teddie’s wet joggers. She raises her voice over Teddie’s sudden howls. ‘In the interest of not turning Jess’s lovely shop into any more of a disaster area than you’ve already made it, you can have your tutorial back at the cottage. Meantime, get that lot folded up and back in the hold-all.’
Rory still hasn’t moved, but he’s grinning back at her. ‘A “please” might be nice. Just saying. If we’re teaching little people to be polite.’ This is exactly why he drove the teachers round the bend at school.
Immie ignores him, then turns to Gracie, who’s bobbing backwards and forwards. ‘Cream, please. Then clean trousers and hand sanitiser.’
Poppy and I have got the strewn bag contents collected and packed. Rory’s still standing where he was, as Immie shoves first the changed baby, then the snowman, into his arms.
He staggers backwards. ‘Great. Thanks for that. It looks like we’re ready to hit the road, then.’
As Teddie’s screams of protest subside, Immie gives Gracie a play punch on the arm. ‘Yay, well done, we’re Team Teddie.’
As I hook the changing bag over Rory’s shoulder, another comment slips out. ‘If you’re going to becompletely manlyabout this you might want to get a changing bag with stripes on, or beer labels.’ I can only blame my spontaneous banter on Immie’s influence. A moment later, I’m hooking the bag of wet clothes over his finger. ‘And don’t forget this. Thirty degree wash. Cool tumble. I take it anyone who can make fabulous home brew also knows how to use a washing machine?’
From the mystified look on his face, as he backs towards the door, that’s not necessarily true. ‘Never heard of a service wash, Holly Berry? You should try them. For an extra tenner, they iron for you too.’
Which just goes to remind me – Luc did all his own ironing. And washing. Once you’ve lived with it, it’s a great quality in a guy, especially one who regularly got through four shirts a day. Although he did once go overboard and spend three hours taking every single crease out of one of my favourite crinkle silk dresses.
We’re all waving at Teddie and Gracie, who’s managed to overcome her disapproval enough to be clutching both snowmen.
Poppy shakes her head as they finally edge out into the hallway. ‘See you all soon, up at the farm.’
‘Did someone mention cupcakes?’ Immie’s rubbing sanitiser into her hands. ‘In which case I may need a couple to keep me going on the drive back.’
Poppy opens the box. ‘One more for you, Hols, too, to keep your strength up for this afternoon’s shoot?’
I flip out my phone to check the time. ‘It’s only an hour away.’ Now it’s hurtling towards me so fast, I’m getting twitchy. ‘I need a large injection of instant courage.’ It’s not that I’m stalking Luc, and I’ve no hopes of getting him back. But when someone you love walks out of your life so abruptly, it’s hard to turn those feelings off. When you don’t quite understand what went wrong, it’s very difficult to let go.
Immie dives in and grabs a monkey, then shoves a cake into my hand too. ‘Have a lion. That should do the trick.’
But it could take a lot more than butter cream to save me this afternoon.
Chapter 4
Sunday, 3rd December
