The face he pulls wouldn’t fill anyone with hope. ‘We may as well see the rest now we’re here.’
As I drive up the cobbled courtyard past the farmhouse and pull to a halt by the picturesque stone barns and cluster of holiday cottages at the top of the slope, I’m hoping Poppy’s got some baking waiting in the kitchen. I know my initial expectations were maybe too high, but when it’s going downhill this fast I’ll definitely be needing a buttercream fix.
As the van doors clang closed behind us, a gust of freezing air wafts up my skirt and makes me wish I’d chosen something thicker than this flimsy crepe tea dress. ‘Fingers crossed, it should be a lot warmer in July.’
He gives a grunt. ‘Let’s hope so.’
Today I’ve put on my boots with the highest heels, so I’m at least three inches more impressive than I was on Saturday, even if I’m staggering a bit. Mostly I’m trying not to catch the heels in the cracks between the pavers, but there’s still time to take in the lovely grey-painted windows as I wobble towards the Wedding Barn. Poppy’s told us to help ourselves, so I push my shoulder against the huge oak entrance door and shove hard. As I lead the way into a space as big as a cathedral I pause to give Nic a chance to take it all in.
‘It’s equally magical filled with fairy lights or flowers, perfect for a surfer theme or a transformation to a ski resort.’
Until the break-up I’d have been literally gushing here, now I’m having to force myself. But it’s worth pushing myself, because a wedding here would work well for all of us. For Poppy, to get a booking. For Nic, because there would be so many of us around to look after him. And for me, because it would get me off the hook so neatly.
He blows through his teeth. ‘It’s a shame about those cobbles.’
And that came from left field to surprise me. ‘The ones outside?’
He nods. ‘They’re way too rustic, you could barely walk on them. Sorry, but we can’t have that.’ It’s not much, but the wrinkles in his brow say the rest.
‘So that’s another straight “no”?’ I take in another nod and kick myself for not walking better. ‘And it’s brilliant to be ticking them off the list so fast.’ I line up another fixed smile and stagger back across the offending cobbles. I mean, they go up and down, but isn’t that part of the charm? Realistically, if I can stand up on them in these boots, anyone can. ‘Let’s grab a drink with Poppy, then we’ll try the main house we passed on the way in. There are stone flags down there, they’re much easier on the legs.’
Walking into Poppy’s kitchen you always get a wonderful smell of baking, and today we’re hit by a wall of warmth from the Aga and a smell of chocolate that’s so intense I can almost taste the air as I inhale it.
I grin at Poppy as she waves from the sink. ‘Double chocolate muffins?’
She nods. ‘Too right! There’s a fresh pot of coffee, so help yourselves.’ Then she smiles at Nic. ‘Viewing venues is always hard work, I thought a cocoa fix might help.’
I fill three mugs and take them over to the huge plank kitchen table. Noticing Nic’s frown, I have to ask. ‘For someone ripping through the venues, you’re very quiet. Is everything okay?’ I watch his throat move as he swallows.
He’s three shades paler than he was. ‘I hadn’t counted on it taking this much time.’
If we’re barely an hour in and he’s flagging, it’s not a great sign for the next few months. This is the guy who, thirty minutes ago, was up for seeing every beautiful venue in the South West. I need to get him to be more open about what’s going on here. I can’t do a good job if I don’t have the full picture, so however reluctant he is, I’m going to have to lean on him harder. And even though I’d find it easier not to know who he’s marrying, I’m going to have to interrogate him sooner rather than later. As every approach has so far failed, I need to be more imaginative.
‘Have some of Poppy’s cake.’ I push the muffin stack towards him and take one myself. As I sink my teeth into the dense velvety sponge the tension in my neck falls away.
When Poppy comes to sit down, she’s laughing. ‘Two muffins in as many seconds? You don’t need to tell me how it’s going.’
I’m already peeling the paper off my next one. I turn to Nic and congratulate myself on the next veiled question. ‘I think we can safely say the future Mrs Trendell isn’t a fan of mud?’
Nic blinks. ‘She’s not the kind of woman to call herself Mrs, she’ll definitely stick to Ms.’
Even better than a proper answer! I’m suddenly on a roll. ‘And does the future Ms Whatever have a first name?’
‘Elfie – short for Elfinor. But mostly we call her Pixie.’
As Poppy and I exchange glances we don’t need a description, because the name says it all – she’s a waif. And suddenly this shadowy person has sprung to life. She has to be one of those truly amazing people who are so tiny and delicate they barely exist. I take an extra large bite of muffin. Whatever that pang in my chest, it’s nothing to do with another fleeting flashback to that kiss I can barely remember. Hell no! I’m really not wishing it were me instead of her.
Now I’m facing him, I’m getting the full benefit of the intelligence in those dark eyes, the flickering changes in his expression as he considers. The muffins seem to be working their magic, so I’m firing out more questions.
‘So is Elfie hard to please? I mean, will it be difficult for you to make choices she agrees with?’ For my money, with a groom this stressed she’s got to be a nightmare. Not that I’m biased; I’m actually being very careful to have no opinion either way.
Nic shrugs. ‘She’s never taken much interest in weddings, but she hates people looking at her. Left to herself I doubt she’d even bother.’
I add a few more to my bride list: indifferent, reluctant, super-thin, not keen on wellies. Then I’m forcing myself to picture them together but even when I let her slip back to being a shadow it’s quite hard to get him to put his arms around her. When he does it isn’t face to face. They’re side by side at the washbasin, cleaning their teeth. And the most I get him to do is one hand flopped over her shoulder. Which might seem unrealistic but it’s probably more than Ben ever did to me. Then as I push myself to think of them moving out of the bathroom and climbing into their super-king-sized bed together I get as far as the Egyptian cotton sheets and featherlight down duvet from The White Company and I swallow so fast I choke on my cake. Once I get my breath back, I decide to stop the pictures for now.
‘That’s very helpful to know.’ I’m trying to be gentle yet persistent. ‘But is Elfie happy about it?’ That sounds so challenging now it’s out, I’m immediately back-tracking. ‘I mean, weddings are hard work to put together, but they’re fun and fabulous too.’
‘And?’ Nic’s wrinkling his nose.
