I let out a sigh because, though he doesn’t know it, he couldn’t have got me any more wrong. If he’d only told me, no one would have understood the problems better than me. Not that he’ll ever know, but however much my mum’s body let her down, she was always herself. It’s hard to explain unless you’ve been there and seen it. But the more her body failed her, the stronger the very essence of who she was shone out. Because in the end that will, that beautiful, creative, argumentative, bloody-minded fighting spirit was all she had left. And I know for myself how other people’s thoughtless acts or comments can pierce straight through to your heart if they catch you wrongly.
I’m kicking myself as I think back to my time with Nic. ‘If I’d known, we’d never have gone to the Harbourside Hotel, or all those other places with a million steps or narrow doors.’ It’s not only the time we’ve wasted, it’s that every unsuitable venue I dragged him to must have been a painful reminder to him of everything she couldn’t have.
He pulls down the corner of his mouth. ‘Endless tours of facilities for the disabled would have been way more depressing.’ And I suppose he has a point. ‘I knew if you showed me enough beautiful venues we’d find the right one in the end. And we did.’
So he’s right again. But this time rather than minding, I’m pleased for him. I know it’s made my job a thousand times harder, but he read the situation, and found his own way through. And I really can’t fault him for that. In fact, it shows remarkable good judgement on his part. I’m admiring him for sticking to it because this particular way forward must have caused him a lot of painful moments.
I’m dying inside to think I actually suggested a Cinderella staircase for Pixie to walk down. I’m flicking through my brain to think what else I need to ask so I don’t go putting my foot in it again. ‘Has she always been … er … the same?’
His eyes are strangely blank as he speaks. ‘She wasn’t born like that and she’s not ill. It’s a spinal cord injury from an accident on a go cart track five years ago.’ He’s staring across the harbour and out to the navy blue expanse of sea that’s sparking like diamonds where the sun’s hitting it. ‘She was twenty-six with her whole life in front of her, and in a split second it was all taken away.’
My mouth’s gone dry with the desolation in his voice. At least with my mum it came on slowly. There were difficult times – tears and anguish and shock – when the hospital told us what to expect. But at least we had the luxury of crying in anticipation. Watching the changes creep up on us. We didn’t have the shock of an instantaneous change.
‘Was Ewan with her then?’ All I want to do is wrap my arms around him. To hold him for as long as it takes to make the hurt in his voice go away.
He’s still examining the floor. ‘She was seeing someone else when it happened but he didn’t stick around, and she didn’t want him to. She and Ewan used to hate each other growing up, but a few summers ago he went as her helper on a tall ship voyage when none of the rest of us could make it.’ He finally looks up and gives a rueful grin. ‘I guess she found out he wasn’t so bad after all.’
This puts me in my place, bleating about a little thing like losing my fiancé.
At least now I understand how much pressure he’s under to get her wedding right. And it explains the torture lurking in his eyes and makes me understand why his laughter so often tails away to nothing. ‘And this is why it’s all got to be perfect?’
He’s nodding. ‘She’s so brave and she never complains. After everything she’s been through …’
I cut in as he swallows. ‘Don’t worry, you’ve already bagged her the princess castle; we’re going to give her the most amazing day.’ I reach across, put my hand over his, and squeeze. And I wish with all my heart I could do more.
His eyes pull into focus. ‘She’d never have been a typical bride, even when her legs did work. No offence, but she’d have a fit at most of the gear at your fairs.’
I’m biting back my smile, getting exactly what he means. ‘Napkins folded like swans aren’t for everyone.’ I laugh. ‘Don’t worry, there’s lots of choice for the chilled-out bride. We’ll stick to nachos and jumpsuits.’
He slumps back against the bench. ‘It’s a relief we’ve sorted that out.’ It’s not clear if he’s talking about Pixie’s aversion to wedding paraphernalia or the fact she can’t walk. Worse still, somehow my hand’s still on his and now he’s squeezing mine back. ‘I know you’ve got this, Milla Vanilla. There’s no one in the world I’d trust more with this.’
Which he could inadvertently be right about, although he has no idea why. And it might be great for him, but for me the stress just went off the scale. With my record lately, I’ve had a lot more stuff-ups than successes, and he’s just given me every reason why this has to be absolutely flawless. And wonderful. The kind of faultless that’s got my heart racing already. In fact, my mind’s galloping so fast, I already know I’ll barely have time to sleep between now and then.
And as I can’t afford to miss a single detail, I have to check. ‘So is there anything else you haven’t told me? Anything more I need to know?’
I mean, for two months I had no idea who the groom was and now I find out the bride is in a wheelchair. It might not be deliberate, but Nic does have a habit of concealing vital information.
He rubs his chin. ‘No, I reckon that’s you fully briefed and up to speed.’ His lips slide into a smile as he pushes himself up to standing. ‘Shall I get cooking, then?’
‘Cooking?’ It comes out as a scream. ‘There’s no time to eat, Nic, we’ve got a wedding to sort out!’
MAY
Chapter 25
Tuesday, the next week.
At the camper van on St Aidan harbour.
Comfort zones and clean breaks.
‘What the hell is going on?’
Arriving at the harbour with half an hour to spare before meeting up with Nic, mostly I’m trying to remember where I left the camper. As I finally spot it along the quay edge by a stack of fishing nets, the last thing I expect to find next to it is the guy himself at the top of a stepladder on the cobbles between the side of the van and the water. As he wipes his hands on his jeans and turns around, I can’t help smiling at the smudges of pink paint on his backside.
He’s resting his elbows on the roof and he sounds just as perplexed as me. ‘More importantly, what the hell are you doing running around the harbourside waving a cordless vacuum and asking awkward questions when you should be at the shop, Milla? Our meeting isn’t until ten.’
‘I’m here for a quick tidy.’ Believe me, those words don’t often come out of my mouth naturally, but this is the new super-energised version of me – the upcoming fairs and Pixie’s big day are working like a mahoosive kick up the bum. ‘What’s your excuse? And it’d better be good, Trendell! You can’t just clamber all over people’s expensive paint jobs without asking. And you’re horribly close to the edge of the quay too!’
