A Vintage Wedding (16 page)

‘What’s that?’ asked Lindy.

‘It’s Gothic buildings painted light colours, more or less,’ said Rachel. ‘I’ll show you on my phone.’

While Rachel was tapping on urls to bring up a picture and Lindy was keeping an eagle eye on her boys, Raff came up.

‘Do I remember you from school or something?’ he said to Angus. Raff had gone off to collect the mist-coating machine when Angus had been helping out the day before.

‘My parents lived here until about seven years ago,’ said Angus. ‘But I went to boarding school and wasn’t around in the holidays all that much. You do look familiar though.’

Raff nodded, beginning to grin. ‘Skateboarding! You used to skateboard with us. We called you “Posh Boy”.’

A rueful smile spread over Angus’s face. ‘That’s right. But then I did my knee in and had to give it up.’

‘Well, nice to see you back,’ said Raff. ‘We must have a pint sometime.’

Lindy, having seen a picture of a white-painted church in Herefordshire that looked glorious, decided her boys had used up their supply of good behaviour and needed to go home.

‘Well, I’ll vote for Strawberry Gothic,’ she said. ‘Guys! Time to go now.’

‘It’s time we went too, Rachel,’ Raff said.

‘I’ll stay for a bit longer,’ said Angus. ‘I can lock up.’

‘Will you be all right?’ asked Lindy. Then she shook her head, annoyed with herself. ‘Sorry. It’s being a mum. It makes me a bit … mum-like.’

‘Not a bad thing, Lindy,’ said Raff.

‘As long as I don’t cut up people’s food for them, I suppose it’s OK. Come on, boys! We’re off!’

Meanwhile Beth, too, was having a different sort of Sunday to the one she was used to. She had been shattered when she got home just after midnight having washed and put away, she was sure, more glasses than the pub actually owned. She was very keen to make a good impression and perhaps get more shifts at the Prince Albert. She needed the money and she loved the work. She now knew that Charlie was pretty much a regular although he never had more than half a pint.

She had set her alarm for eight and fallen into bed. If it hadn’t been Charlie who was picking her up at nine she might well have set it for half past eight, but although it wasn’t a date, she really wanted to look as good as you can do in jeans and jumpers.

She pulled her trapper hat with ear flaps on over her damp hair and waited, trying not to be spotted by him looking like the Lady of Shalott, staring desperately out of the window.

She couldn’t see his Land Rover and assumed he’d parked it round the corner. She retreated into the kitchen, taking time to rinse her mug and put it on the drainer before she answered his knock.

‘Hello!’ she said gaily and then hoped her girlish enthusiasm wouldn’t put him off her.

‘Hello!’ He flapped the tassel on her hat. ‘Glad to see you’re dressed for the weather. Have you got wellies?’

‘Oh yes.’ She indicated the bag in her hand. ‘I thought I might need them.’ She grinned. ‘I’m not a complete townie, you know!’

‘You look great, by the way,’ he said, giving her a peck on the cheek. ‘Good and workmanlike.’

‘Do I need to be workmanlike? I thought we were just looking at the van?’

He laughed. ‘You never know what you’ll be asked to do when you visit a farm …’

He took her arm in a friendly way and led her round the corner. There was no Land Rover, just the van.

‘So there she is,’ said Charlie proudly, standing in front of the bright red vehicle that reminded Beth strongly of Postman Pat. ‘I’ve done it up a bit. Should do you nicely.’

‘Wow!’ said Beth, not knowing quite what else she should say.

‘Like it?’

‘It’s very red.’ He might have washed it but the paint was still very faded in places. What would Rachel think of it? Would she want it resprayed in white?

‘It doesn’t get any better-looking by you staring at it. Get in!’

Beth walked towards the passenger door.

‘No.’ Charlie opened the driver’s door. ‘This time, you’re driving.’

Beth kept her dismay concealed. It wasn’t only the insurance. Still, she could sort that out when she got back. Her first problem was that she hadn’t driven for a while and would have preferred to get some practice on something a bit more familiar. And had he managed to deal with the smell? She walked round to where Charlie was waiting for her and got in.

She had a few seconds to familiarise herself with the van before he joined her. The smell was slightly better – which did help.

‘Let’s get going then!’ he said.

‘Don’t you want to see my driving licence or anything?’ she asked, wanting a little longer to get used to the driving position.

‘This isn’t a driving test, it’s a test drive.’

‘OK,’ she said. ‘I should be asking you all sorts of probing questions.’

‘Ask away,’ he said glibly.

‘I will when I’ve thought of some,’ she added, thinking that one of the downsides of leaving home was that you couldn’t get your dad to help you buy a car. Maybe Lindy’s dad would give it a once-over to make sure they weren’t making a mistake.

She took her time adjusting the seat and the mirror.

‘The visibility isn’t as good as I’m used to,’ she said.

‘You’ll soon get used to using your wing mirrors.’ He waited for a few seconds. ‘Crack on. Turn right when you get to the end of the lane.’

Beth began to enjoy herself. The van was easy to drive and she’d always liked driving – and the smell hardly bothered her at all now. It was a lovely day and perfect for exploring the countryside. ‘This is fun!’ she said. ‘The farm’s in this direction, isn’t it?’ She was fairly sure that Sarah had gone off at the left fork when she’d first taken Beth to the farm.

‘We’re not going to our farm. Carry on in this direction for a bit. I’ll direct you.’

‘OK!’

‘So, how do you like country life?’ he asked a little later.

‘It’s great! It’s certainly better now I’ve got a job and some friends. I’ll need some proper work of course – I think I told you, didn’t I, that I design websites and do online marketing? But if the van turns out all right – and it’s going OK so far – I should be able to borrow it and look for clients further away than walking distance.’ She laughed gaily.

‘So your parents wouldn’t help towards a car of your own?’

‘No. To be fair, they did give me some money but I’m afraid I used it to run away from them. Or rather, not go back after university, as they wanted to me to.’

‘Run away? That sounds a bit drastic!’

She laughed. ‘My mother is a bit on the controlling side. It’s why I’m organising my sister’s wedding. But I don’t expect you want to hear about that!’

‘No. Even my sister’s wedding is getting a bit much for me.’

‘Well, tell me what’s going on at the farm!’ Beth’s barmaid training meant she always asked people about their work.

‘We’re just coming up to lambing so it’s the calm before the storm,’ said Charlie. ‘Which is why we’re taking the day off.’

‘On a magical mystery tour? You still haven’t told me where we’re going?’

‘We’re going to visit a ram. And some of his progeny. I’m interested in a rare breed of sheep and I’m thinking about breeding them.’

‘And you thought I was your ideal chauffeur to get you there?’

He grinned. ‘That’s right. I thought you might be my ideal all sorts of things.’

Beth kept her eyes on the road, which was becoming more a lane. She was trying very hard not to grin back at him.

At last they found the farm in a fold in the hillside. The small stone house was surrounded by outbuildings, some modern, some old and ramshackle. The last bit of track was potholed and stony and Beth took it slowly. She now felt the van was theirs – hers and Lindy’s (she still doubted Rachel would want anything to do with it) – and was determined to be careful with it.

A man wrapped up in tweed, a sheep dog at his heels, emerged from the house.

Beth and Charlie got out. Beth stayed close to Charlie, not happy with the expression on the face of the sheepdog. Charlie put his arm round her and she felt better. To be fair to him, the dog didn’t say anything unfriendly.

‘Come to see this ram, then?’ said the man, not wasting time on preliminaries.

‘That’s right,’ agreed Charlie. ‘And some of his progeny, if I may. I want to make sure Balwens are the right breed for me.’

‘This way then,’ said the farmer.

The sheepdog left his side and followed the little group. Beth felt she was appearing in an edition of
One Man and His Dog
and might be herded into a pen at any moment.

Beth let the men walk ahead. She was sure Charlie would be happy to have her near him but sensed the farmer wasn’t used to young women and felt a little shy in her presence.

‘So, what are the best things about Balwens, then?’ asked Charlie.

‘You’ll have done your research. Good feet, easy lambing, excellent meat. Not too big, easy to sell to housewives.’

‘Right.’

The talk got more technical and Beth stopped listening. She was wondering if she’d like living on a farm. Would she take to it? Become one of those women who reared orphaned lambs in the Aga and had a flock of chickens round her back door, all with names like Esmeralda, Philomena and Cleopatra? This was a pleasant enough daydream but she did slightly wonder if she’d be lonely, up at Charlie’s family farm day after day. Skype was brilliant but it wasn’t the same as a flesh-and-blood human.

At last the sheep-viewing was over (they were extremely pretty sheep, she had to agree, when asked), and a certain amount of vintage-tractor-viewing (for which Beth managed to fake enthusiasm), it was time to leave the farmer to his Sunday roast.

‘You drive,’ she said to Charlie, handing him the keys to the van. ‘I want to admire the scenery.’

‘OK,’ he said. ‘Now, what about lunch? Are you fed up with pubs, seeing as you work in one? I know one that does a very good Sunday lunch?’

She was thrilled that he cared enough to ask. ‘What’s the alternative?’

He gave a rueful grin – one that sent Beth’s heart racing. ‘I don’t know!’

‘A pub is fine,’ said Beth. ‘Fortunately, considering I’m back on duty tonight, I really like them.’

The pub was much more ‘gastro’ than the Prince Albert would ever be, and although it was nice enough, Beth knew which one she preferred. Though she accepted it might just be loyalty.

‘So, what are you drinking, lovely?’ he said.

Beth warmed to the endearment. ‘Red wine, please, if we’re having Sunday lunch.’

‘Red it is. Just a glass? Or a bottle?’

‘A glass,’ she said, keeping her sigh of happiness for when he’d gone to the bar and wouldn’t hear her.

Halfway through her wine she offered to stop drinking so he could have more than the half of lager he was drinking. He wouldn’t hear of it. ‘This is your day off,’ he said.

After lunch they drove some more and then he took her for a walk, to where a view of the entire Severn Vale and the Malvern Hills beyond could be seen. They went to the viewpoint, Charlie’s arm tightly around her. They stood for a few moments admiring the view. ‘Look, there’s Wales,’ Charlie said. ‘My mother came from Wales. I like coming here, to see the Land of My Mothers.’

‘You must have been very young when she died.’ Beth, who’d had a second glass of wine with her lunch, was feeling sentimental.

‘I was twelve.’

‘I’m so sorry!’ she said.

‘Don’t worry. It wasn’t your fault.’ Then he took her into his arms and kissed her.

At first it was clumsy and then rapidly it became intense. Beth was short of breath, passionate and enthusiastic. But for some reason when Charlie’s hand pushed its way up her back, under her T-shirt, fingering the fastening of her bra, she pulled back.

‘You’re right. It’s far too cold for this here. Let me take you home.’

On the way home, Beth’s desire fought with her brain. Her body said: Yes, yes please! But her head thought it was just a bit soon.

She was still undecided when they reached her front door. She and Charlie chased up the path to the door and she let them in.

‘Would you like tea or something?’ she asked.

He laughed. ‘What do you think? Come here!’

Her body told her head to be quiet and she led Charlie into the bedroom. They sat on the bed for a bit, kissing, while he undressed her top half. Then he pushed her gently back and concentrated on kissing her senseless.

Then his phone rang in his jeans pocket.

‘Dad! What’s the problem!’

Beth couldn’t hear what his father had to say, but she gathered pretty quickly that it was an emergency and Charlie had to leave.

‘I’m sorry, kid. There’s a ewe in trouble and Dad wants me there. He could cope really but I said I’d be back an hour ago. I’ll have to leave.’ He kissed her thoroughly, and then pulled on his sweater. ‘I’ll be in touch.’

Beth pulled her own T-shirt and sweater on slowly. She was confused. Was she desperately disappointed or relieved?

Under the shower a little later she decided she was disappointed.