In the Style File at Brides by the Sea.
Dog chews and pots of gold.
As I push through the doors to The Style File early on Monday a week later there’s a welcome scuffle of paws as Ivy’s dog Merwyn dashes across to greet me.
‘Morning, Merwyn, how are you today?’
He gives me a woof, runs two laps around the desk, then curls up back on his cushion again.
Ivy’s pops up from behind a pile of boxes. ‘That’s an extra big hello, Milla, you haven’t been to see us for ages.’
I catch a glimpse of the glasses she’s unpacking. ‘Is that a rainbow table you’re working on?’ I love this latest trend of oranges and blues and pinks and greens because the burst of vibrant brights are like my mum personified. When most of the other cottages in the village had their walls painted in tasteful shades of sand and hints of beige, Mum’s colour palette was taken straight off the Beatles’Sergeant Pepperalbum cover.
Ivy pulls the tissue paper off a bright orange tumbler and puts it down next to a pink one. ‘Don’t you just love the popping colours?’
I give Merwyn a last pat and slip a folder into the counter drawer. ‘Meanwhile, I’ve been to the furthest corners of Devon and Cornwall in search of wedding fair venues – with Mr Trendall in tow too.’ At least I’ve been spared having him in the van with me. It took one visit for him to realise arriving after I’d finished my meetings with the owners saved him getting bored out of his brain.
Ivy’s nodding. ‘And how did that go?’
‘We got to see some amazing places. Needless to say, Nic rejected most of them before he even got inside.’
So much for me worrying about seeing too much of him; in the end I barely saw him at all. Though I have to admit, I dismissed some places as fast as he did once I saw them in real life.
‘We crossed another twenty-odd venues off the list for Nic’s wedding, but at least I’ve got some strong possibilities for us.’ And none of it was wasted for me because it’s all great material for blog pieces.
Ivy nods. ‘I’ve had a word with Bill, and he’s definitely up for bringing the Cockle Shell Castle gin to the fairs.’ This is one woman whose life actually sounds more like a fairy tale than the things themselves – she’s come to live with her new partner Bill in his castle around the bay. And as if that wasn’t enough, he also owns a gin distillery!
‘Great, I’ll add you to my exhibitor list. I saw your posters too. Design-your-own-gin-cocktail taster evenings will go down a storm with brides and grooms.’
Ivy gives a grimace. ‘So Nic’s still holding off on the decisions?’
I grin back. ‘He’s due down here any moment, I’m hoping The Style File will give him a wedding reboot.’
Ivy laughs. ‘Trying to shock him into coming off the fence?’
‘If he doesn’t get off it soon he’ll still be there on the wedding day.’ As I hear a clattering on the stairs my tummy gives a little jump. ‘This will be him now.’
I’m bracing myself just in case the dragonflies in my tummy go too wild, but when the door swings open instead of wind-blown curls and a moody frown I’m staring at stylishly cut blonde hair and some startlingly blue eyes.
I rush in to do the talking because I’m nearest the door. ‘Can I help you?’ Behind the desk, Merwyn’s re-opened one eye and his little tail is tapping on his blue velvet cushion.
The guy’s face breaks into a boyish grin. ‘I’m looking for Milla?’
Ivy’s looking through a bright turquoise glass as she calls across. ‘Then you’re in the right place. How come you always get the best-looking grooms, Milla?’
He’s already stepping forward and grasping my hand. ‘Great to meet you, Milla.’ Then he squats down and lets Merwyn sniff his fingers. ‘And who’s this?’
I smile. ‘That’s our part time design advisor, Merwyn.’
‘Good choice of cushion, Merwyn, I’m liking the pompom trim. So long as you never dribble on my shoes, I’m sure we’ll get along fine. ‘When he stands and pulls himself up to his full height he’s towering over me. ‘I have to confess, I’m not actually a groom. I’m Casper Jonston, from …’ he flicks a card out of his trouser pocket ‘… Here Comes the (B)Ride! What do you think of the little brackets around the B? I wanted to say what we did without being too in your face.’
‘They’re fab!’ Faced with his bounce I have to add more. ‘And so ironic! And that rustic font is very on-trend too.’ I can’t tell you the hours Phoebe and I agonised over getting the perfect feel for our lettering. That’s why it’s lovely to see someone else get it so right.
His beam widens. ‘Pleased you appreciate them. I heard you’re on the lookout for wedding fair exhibitors?’ He was dishing out smiles before, but this time he adds in a row of very white teeth too. ‘We’re brand-new, we do the coolest rides for brides, you have to put us in your shows.’
With a perfect pitch like that, I could hardly refuse. ‘So, tell me about your cars?’ The fine tweed suit and brown roll-neck jumper he’s wearing are the sharpest I’ve seen yet in St Aidan. When I take in the taper of his trousers, I’m extra pleased I made the effort to squeeze into my tightest pencil skirt and highest heels.
With his direct blue gaze, he’s giving me every bit of his attention. ‘We major in quirky and vintage, cuteness with a touch of class.’ Despite the stubble that’s almost a beard you can see there are dimples in his cheeks. ‘We have bubble cars, Hillman imps, all kinds of convertibles. And the all-time favourite – our ubiquitous aqua-blue camper van.’
