‘What, stubborn and impossible?’ I laugh as I think of him as my original nightmare client. When he’s properly relaxed there are crinkles at the corners of his eyes when he smiles, and despite the stress of putting a wedding together I’m seeing them more and more often.
His grin widens. ‘Not anymore. These days I’m very easy to please.’
And he’s right again, but this time I really don’t mind because after three months of progressing more slowly than a sea snail, we’re finally storming ahead in every area. Even the theme’s sorted. Nic’s still in denial about having one, but for everyone else, it’s Seashore Castle Rainbow Garden.
I peer in at the herb sprigs in my Rosemary and Grapefruit Comet and pick up my jar. ‘Cheers then, Nicolson. Here’s to lots more decisions and a lovely wedding.’ We’ve each been taking a different choice of cocktail, to get through the maximum number on the board.
Nic lifts his Cockle Shell Gimlet. ‘Back at you, Ms Vanilla. They sell these in pitchers as well as glasses, if you’d like to go large. Having met Ben, I reckon he’d drive most normal people to hit the bottle.’ His smile fades. ‘Not judging, but how did an amazing woman like you end up with him, Milla? Unless you’ve been hiding a frantic hand-washing obsession from me, you two can’t have had much in common.’
Obviously, I’m glossing over the compliments. But I’m so surprised by his directness that instead of telling him to butt out, I’m replying. ‘I met Ben after I went to Bristol when my mum died. We packed up the rented cottage where we’d lived our whole lives and I went there to be near my brothers.’
His fingers are closing around mine. ‘It must have been awful.’
I stare into the distance to where the shimmer of the water smudges into the sky. ‘At first I went out all night, every night, to take away the pain. By the time I got together with Ben, I was partied out. But I still felt as if I was drifting without an anchor.’ I’m blinking. ‘You’d have had to see our cottage to understand how secure and enveloping it was – thrumming to the soundtrack of Mum’s Greatest Hits collections, with all her vibrant colours. And, despite the chaos, there’d always be her latest hotpot concoction bubbling on the stove, her jam tarts steaming from the oven …’
There’s such warmth in his eyes as he looks at me. ‘I can almost smell the pastry from here.’
I’m so grateful, because him buying into this makes it feel less like it’s lost forever. And of everyone I’ve ever met, Nic’s the one person I’ve found who makes me feel comfortable talking about Mum, because he seems so interested and in tune with what he hears. ‘She made Bakewell tarts to die for. That hot raspberry jam and sticky sponge … I wish you could have tasted it.’
His enthusiasm is so real. ‘Me too. I’m gutted that I missed meeting her.’
And so am I, even though I have no idea why. ‘She’d have loved anyone who’ll dance to Jon Bon Jovi.’ I drag in a breath. ‘We had this wonderful feeling of family and belonging. Her being ill and us being homebound made that stronger still. It took years to come to terms with the shock of losing her, but once I did I was desperate to recreate that home all over again for myself.’
Nic shakes his head. ‘Be honest, it was never going to work with contagion man was it?’
I watch the foamy wiggle of the tide rushing up the sand and pulling back again, and decide. I’m not hiding it from him. ‘We got engaged before we really knew each other. We even bought a flat, but in five whole years of looking he’d never settle on a wedding venue.’ When I used to tell people, it came out as a pathetic wail. This time it feels more like I’m claiming my badge of honour for coming out the other side. ‘That’s going to be my claim to comic fame forever.’
Nic’s wrinkling his nose. ‘Oh, Milla Vanilla, that explains why you’re such an expert on venues.’ His eyes narrow. ‘But then think what a life of hell he saved you from – by not getting married.’ And he has got a point.
‘On the upside, Phoebe’s got all that to look forward to.’ This has to be the first time I’ve laughed about it.
He blows his cheeks out. ‘What I can’t work out is how you got involved with a taker like her in the first place?’
‘She was my boss when we worked at Costa.’
Nic shakes his head. ‘I bet she made the most of making you feel small there too?’
I can’t believe how right he is. ‘I had a bit of money my mum had left me, and my camper van and I suppose she picked up on that and became a bit of a limpet bestie.’ I’m under no illusions now that if she hadn’t accidentally found out about my cash by peering over my shoulder when I was checking my bank balance at the cash machine, she wouldn’t have noticed I existed. I shrug because I have to face facts here. ‘Since I’ve been doing Brides Go West on my own, I’ve got a whole new respect for what she did as a frontperson. I mean, I’ve worked my bum off and I still haven’t had a trouble-free fair. It’s damned hard making everyone do what you want and keeping everybody happy. When she wafted about making it look effortless, she must have been nailing it.’
Nic’s staring at me. ‘But you’re so much better at it than she could ever be. People know the difference – you genuinely care. She doesn’t even bother to fake it.’
I have to laugh. ‘Maybe you’re just blinded by your dislike of Phoebe. If I hadn’t had my assets, she’d have been best friends with someone else. But it’s fine. It really hit home when Phoebe turned up at the fair. I’m back with people who love and look out for me. It’s time to let go of the bad stuff and move forwards.’ I can’t hold back my smile. ‘Seeing Ben and Phoebe floundering in the pond water at the wedding fair, they didn’t feel like part of my life at all. And as I watched them walking away with Hunter’s pram, I didn’t feel anything. I wasn’t even jealous. I just had a huge sense of relief that I don’t have to deal with them anymore. They’re welcome to each other, their life, and their giant baby. It’s as though these last few months have truly set me free.’
‘Being ready to let go of the past is a huge achievement. Believe me, I know, you can’t get on with your life until you have.’ His sigh is heartfelt, and when he gazes out to sea his eyes are far away. And the silence he drifts into isn’t the sort I’d intrude on.
Which leaves me back in my own head, remembering what Poppy said about me moving on that first night in St Aidan. I’m probably still light years away from that, but just to try it out, I take a sideways glance at Nic.
I know the wedding fair kiss with Nic was pretty full-on. And I completely accept he never intends to get tied down. But if Nic were the one I moved on with, how awkward would it feel bumping into him down at the quayside if the last time he saw me I’d been naked and groaning in his bed? It’s a million times worse than him knowing I wear pants with kitten prints on. But looking at him now, it’s hard to imagine ever finding someone who smells as nice and looks as nice and makes my tummy flip or my blood rush like he does.
But while he’s so obviously thinking about something else, I might as well just mentally run it past myself. Just to try out how far I’ve come. Very quietly, in my head, I let him murmur the words:
Milla, if you’d like someone to bonk your brains out, for one time only, just say the word …
And my imaginary self is unexpectedly opening her mouth, about to say ‘Hell, yes! Thanks so much, that would be lovely.’
But before I can tell myself off for being so outrageous, shocking, and out of touch with reality – not to mention unprofessional – there’s a vibration.
Nic shakes away his daze, pushes his hand into the pocket of his denim jacket, and eyeballs me as he pulls out his phone. ‘Here we go … and finally … it’s Pixie!’
