Tia joins us as we shuttle up and down to the car to pick up the cocktails. We slip them in through the back door of the hut and start to put the cups out on a tray.
She gives me a nudge as we stand together at the table. ‘Great improvising, Mrs.’
I haven’t got as far as smiling yet. ‘With all those extra hands, they should get a great confetti shot.’
Tia’s peering out of the window. ‘It’s not as bright as it was before the ceremony.’
I pull a face. ‘Lando’s convinced it’s going to throw it down, but at least we have brollies at the ready if it does.’ Hearing familiar notes floating on the air outside, my frown deepens. ‘Is that an ice cream van?’
Lando pops his head around the door. ‘I put Mr Whippy on speed dial on Saturday in case of emergencies. I gave him a call, I hope that’s okay?’
I’m hiding my surprise. ‘Anything that gives the crowd a focus is fine by me.’
Lando looks over my shoulder. ‘Seventy ice creams on a wet afternoon? He’ll likely be willing to tip for the call.’
I groan inwardly at the thought of rain. ‘Please tell me it isn’t…?’
Tia presses her nose against the glass. ‘There are a few spots.’
Lando joins in. ‘You can’t fight nature, Maevey.’
I can’t dodge this anymore, so I make my voice bright. ‘Time for the umbrella basket!’
I pass Lando in the doorway and he raises his eyebrows. I should be grateful for his foresight, but when I look again at his taut cheekbones and distant expression, all I feel is frustration and guilt that he looks more miserable than a wet weekend when it’s still only Thursday.
When I look back again and his downcast expression hasn’t changed, my anger dissipates and I swallow hard. It’s such a change for Lando to be anything other than upbeat and teasing and easy-going and bursting with self-confidence. When I think it’s all my fault he’s like this, my heart feels like it’s being ripped out of my chest.
Then he looks up, sees that I’m watching, and he’s back to looking at me as if he wants to annihilate me, and my mood sinks even further.
We’ve got to do this all over again on Saturday, and then hold this together for the rest of the summer, and I’ve no idea how the hell we’re going to pull it off.
AUGUST
34
Brides by the Sea, St Aidan, Cornwall
Handbags and multiple-choice answers
Monday
Ten days on and the board in the office that Jess has dedicated to Weddings at Windflowers has another three photos pinned to it. However distant Lando is with me, he always charms couples into posing for him and the shop website before they leave. My own favourites are the confetti shots because the wind off the sea adds another dimension, and they somehow magnify the whole spirit of freedom that make the beach hut weddings so special.
As for me being terrified of rain, when the twins come in to show us their photos, the ones after the rain began were better than the sunny ones. Holly, the wedding shop photographer who took their pictures, said it’s because the rain-light is softer and more forgiving, and she’d been lucky to catch some stunning shots against the dramatic sky. Thirty-five umbrellas being held high above the crowd made for some super cute pictures too, and after we waved them goodbye, everyone descended on Jaggers’ bar and maxed out on their ever-popular three-for-two specials.
We’re also learning fast that even tiny weddings rarely go to plan. Saturday’s groom left his vows behind in Penzance; on Tuesday, the mother of the bride dropped an ice cream in her lap, and Saturday’s Jack Russell ring bearer cocked his leg on the registrar’s briefcase. As Poppy says, we should be grateful we don’t have chocolate fountains. Last week they had a child dip both their hands in one up at her farm and wipe them clean on the bride’s raw silk dress. Then there was a huge blow up because the groom’s family saw the funny side, but the bride didn’t.
The more I hear about the stress, time and cost of organising a big day, the more I see why people are flocking to book with us. Daniella’s publicity was nationwide, but a lot of people coming to us are local people jumping at the chance to get married now there’s a simple option on offer that’s cuter than St Aidan’s town hall.
We don’t usually do routine trying-on at the shop on Mondays, but Tia’s called me in first thing this morning for a dress appointment with a bride who’s just booked the beach hut and needs to get on with sorting out her dresses ASAP– with the emphasis on the plural. Apparently more brides than I’d expect buy multiple dresses, and today’s bride is shopping for three, which realistically could take all day today, and tomorrow too.
I’m in the Seraphina East room, shuffling the chairs around in case she comes with a big group of friends and family when I hear the doorbell ring. I hurry to help Tia bring everyone in, but there’s only one person.
She looks at Tia expectantly. ‘I’m Athena. My appointment’s for ten but I’m early.’
Tia smiles. ‘I’m Tia. This is Maeve. And we’re ready for you. Are you bringing anyone else?’
Athena runs her hand through her hair and shakes out a tangle of burnished blonde waves. ‘I know what I like, and I’m lucky most things suit me, so I figured it’ll save a lot of fuss if it’s just me.’
