‘Tiaras!’ I’m winging it, filling the gaping chasm of embarrassment. I’m not sure, but I think I just threw myself at the bloody groom. Properly this time. If my override instinct hadn’t kicked in, my tongue would be halfway down his throat by now. And where making out through a van window imposes its own limitations, when you’re crushing your entire body against someone’s pretty sizable erogenous zone, it’s a lot harder to make excuses and pull out of it. ‘And hair vines. And combs with pearls. Jess just ordered a fantabulous new range.’
He’s looking bemused. ‘And?’
‘If your booking’s nailed down, accessories are next. That’s all.’ I wriggle for the gap and make a leap towards the door to the attic stairway.
‘Something else to look forward to.’ His smile has to be ironic, but at least we’re moving on.
‘And thanks again for driving.’
He dangles the van keys. ‘I’ll park at the harbour and bring these back with me. It’s probably best if I stay over, seeing how accident prone you are.’
I gulp so hard I almost swallow my tongue. ‘What?’
He laughs. ‘Anyone who can pull off that castle booking is worth hanging on to. We need to take extra good care of you.’ He pauses for a cough. ‘I can’t possibly let you stay on your own. Especially if you’re totalled.’
I pull myself up to my full height and point at my feet. ‘Heels, not too high. A bit of sea air, my head’s all clear again.’
‘At least let me see you up the stairs?’
So I can end up jumping him in the kitchen instead? I’m holding my ground here. ‘Totally not necessary.’ It’s amazing how sheer panic can sober you up. ‘Drop the keys off at the shop in the morning. I’ll message you about the booking.’
‘Only if you’re sure?’
‘Oh, I totally am.’
And when I slam the shop door behind me, I’m not sure who’s had the luckier escape. But one thing’s certain – I can’t carry on like this. I need to find a new plan.
Chapter 21
The next Tuesday.
At Cockle Shell Castle.
Turrets and true confessions.
Until Bill accepts a deposit we’re still treading carefully at the castle;eggshellsdoesn’t come close – it’s more like walking on meringues. It also makes sense to keep Nic well away until we’ve tied up the details. Everyone is busy with events over the Easter weekend, so first thing on Tuesday, Poppy and Kip meet me over at the castle with their files of brochures and price lists and contracts and happy couple letters to show to Bill. After another tour, we all sit around the kitchen table, and Bill and Ivy give their input on the quirks of the castle. Then Kip and Bill go off to make some calls to the council, and Ivy, Poppy, and I curl up on the kitchen sofas with Merwyn to sort out available dates. Ivy and Poppy search through their diaries to find days in July when Kip’s team and the castle are both free. Meanwhile, I’m watching the frills of white breakers moving up onto the sand and looking out to the vast stretch of duck egg-blue sea streaked with jade beyond, thinking that this truly is a gem of a location.
As weekends are out, they quickly come up with some weekday dates that work for both of them. I’m nipping in and out of the room where there’s phone signal, messaging Nic to check which they’d prefer. As I listen for the distant ping of Nic’s reply on my phone, I’m rubbing Merwyn’s silky ears and eating Bill’s warm raspberry muffins.
Ivy sips her coffee then puts down her mug. ‘It’s funny, Milla, I’m so used to seeing you and Nic together, I keep having to remind myself you’re not the couple here.’
That’s the last thing I want to hear, even as a joke, but I laugh it off. ‘He’s definitely marrying someone else.’
But once you stop to think about it, it’s been one unfortunate episode after another with me and Nic. And I know Elfinor has a water-tight work reason for not being around, but it’s still strange that she hasn’t come to visit once. Having been with my own very reluctant fiancé who went on to commit the most spectacular fuck up, I hope Nic’s not on his own – possibly unconscious – mission to push his wedding off the rails faster than he’s arranging it. For his sake, I hope he’s marrying the right person.
My stomach has dropped so far my throat feels hollow, but I keep my voice steady and my words slow. ‘For the record, there are two things I’ve noticed about Nic. The first is him driving me wild by refusing to focus. And second is how truly devoted to his bride he is.’ I throw in another thought to move them on and hope like hell they don’t hark back to Valentine’s Night. However much I think about it, I can’t quite reconcile or excuse what happened there; I still feel uncomfortable about it from his side and mine. ‘But I’m not the best person to ask, because I actually haven’t got a clue what being in love actually feels like.’ As I’m here with my good friends, this could be a good opportunity to get a few things straight in my head.
I didn’t ever have any excitement or compulsion with Ben. Not in the way they talk about in the trashy songs anyway. It was all very matter of fact; our progress was logical rather than passion-based. We got engaged in the aftermath of Phoebe and Harry’s wedding and with our leases ending at the same time it made sense to get a flat together so we could save for the future.
If I’d known how picky he was going to be about me leaving my micellar water on the bathroom shelf instead of in my bedroom drawer, and that however neatly I put away his boxers, he’d have to get them all out again and re-iron and refold them, I might have thought about it harder. The only real flutter of excitement I ever had was the first time we went into John Lewis to buy light bulbs together. But Ben took so long to decide on how many lumens and if we wanted warm white or cool, and then agonised for literally hours over the shape. By the time he’d filled the basket I’d lost the will to live.
I can see Ivy giving me a sideways glance so I need to explain. ‘Poppy will tell you, I totally missed out on being a teenager because my mum was ill. I had the longest engagement known to man, and then he left me for someone else. When it comes to love I don’t really have a clue.’
She’s looking at me through narrowed eyes. ‘Love’s funny – it’s not at all rational, you often don’t have any choice about it.’
Poppy’s nodding. ‘It can be very chaotic. And it has all kinds of weird effects on your body too.’
Ivy’s agreeing. ‘You might deny it at first, but it has a power all of its own. It just grows and engulfs you.’
