A Vintage Wedding (20 page)

‘So it’s not a speculation? You don’t hope to do it up and sell it?’

‘No. Maybe, if it’s ever finished and I don’t want to live at a wedding venue or whatever it is you think it should be, I will sell it. But that’s a long way down the road.’

‘And you don’t feel daunted by the prospect of all that work, and the money?’

He considered. ‘Some days I do. At others I just see the potential and get excited. Like now. Probably because you see the potential too.’

Lindy picked up a mug even she wouldn’t have allowed in her house it was so chipped and stained and sipped from it. She felt pleased. Then she looked at her watch. ‘Oh my God! I can’t believe the time. I must phone my gran.’

She left Angus’s house with her tea half drunk.

‘You’ve got something in your hair,’ said Beth as they surveyed the hall later that day.

‘Is it alive?’ said Lindy.

‘Don’t think so.’ Beth removed the wisp of fluff from Lindy’s fringe. ‘It would be quite a rare species of caterpillar if it was, though.’

Lindy laughed. ‘I’m shattered! But thank you so much for helping, Beth. I really and truly couldn’t have done it without you.’

Beth laughed. ‘I enjoyed myself. But you’re right, you couldn’t have got those garlands fixed by yourself. They were so heavy.’

‘And took ages and ages to make.’

‘So worth it though.’ They stared upwards, admiring the final effect.

Then someone else came in.

‘Hi Lindy.’ Angus looked at Beth.

‘I’m Beth, another member of the Vintage Weddings team.’

‘Oh? The Wedding Cake queen?’

Beth laughed. ‘Currently I’m only doing the icing, but that’s hard enough.’

‘I bet.’ Angus looked up. ‘I had to see the finished result,’ he said. ‘And I must say it looks wonderful.’

Lindy smiled. It did look wonderful. The full, lavish garlands of ivy, old man’s beard and sundry other hedgerow items were bound round with tiny fairy lights (one of Beth’s eBay bargains) and looked magical against the whiteness of the walls and beams. ‘We are pleased, I must say. It’s turned out very well.’

‘It has. And I have to say my hedgerows don’t look any different, even though so much has been taken from them.’

‘It’ll grow again anyway,’ said Lindy. ‘At least I hope it will, or I won’t have anything to raid for next time.’

He laughed. ‘Well, I’ll go now but I’ll see you tomorrow.’

‘Really?’

Angus nodded. ‘I’m behind the bar. Sarah has roped in most of the committee to help. It’s going to be fun pulling pints with Audrey.’

Lindy laughed. ‘Audrey used to work in the Prince Albert years ago. She’s probably a demon pint-puller.’

‘Ooh, I’d like to see that!’ said Beth. ‘Perhaps I can persuade Sukey to get her in for a shift. I bet she can add it all up in her head and count back the change.’

Angus chuckled. ‘I’ll let you know. It’ll be good fun, anyway.’

‘I’m glad about that,’ said Lindy and then hoped he didn’t think she was pleased about him being behind the bar – just that the bar was going to be well manned.

They’d had a nice time together this morning. She didn’t want to spoil that easiness by her girlhood crush coming back to haunt her, either by him finding out about it or, almost worse, it becoming a present-day crush. Goodness, life was complicated!

Beth answered her phone. It was the day of the wedding and she was trying to eat a banana squashed between two Ryvitas and dry her hair at the same time. It was Rachel.

‘Beth? Any chance you could come over?’

‘What? To yours? Why? Is there a problem?’ A thought occurred to her. ‘Please don’t tell me April wants to back out!’

Rachel laughed briefly. ‘I don’t think so but she is really upset. Can you come?’

‘If you need me, of course. But why is she upset?’

‘It’s her mother not being here on her wedding day; that sort of thing.’

Beth sighed. ‘How sad. Tell you what, ring Sarah. Get her round there. She’s a brilliant mother-substitute. But I’m out the door!’

As Beth arrived, April, wearing grubby jodhpurs and a ripped rugby shirt, was sitting in Rachel’s white linen-covered chair in the sitting room, weeping.

It was not at all what Beth had envisaged for their first vintage wedding.

‘I’m so sorry,’ their bride gulped. ‘I just can’t help it.’

‘It’s fine,’ said Rachel, sounding very calm. ‘I understand. We all do.’

‘It’s natural to want your mother with you on your wedding day,’ said Beth, feeling tearful herself. However difficult a woman’s relationship with her mother was, she’d want her there. Beth couldn’t help wondering how Helena would be when her turn came in a few months’ time. Maybe it wasn’t something you could predict?

‘I thought I was over it. You know, grown out of needing a mother,’ said April. ‘But what with the thought of wearing her dress and everything, it all came over me.’

‘Have you talked to Tristram about it?’ asked Rachel.

April nodded but couldn’t reply for a few moments. Then, in between gulps, she said, ‘Yeah – a bit – but he gets fed up with me going on about Mum. He says he doesn’t know what to do to help.’

‘Men are like that,’ said Rachel. ‘They don’t like you to have problems they can’t solve.’ She sounded as if she was speaking from experience.

‘I know I’m tired and emotional – whatever that means,’ sobbed April. ‘But I can’t stop crying!’

‘I think I’ll make some tea,’ said Rachel, putting her hand on Beth’s shoulder, passing on the comforting-baton.

‘You will have to stop crying eventually, hon,’ said Beth, ‘because you can’t sob your way down the aisle. It would look bad. But feel free for now. You don’t have to start getting ready until …’ She looked at her watch. ‘Well, we’ve got a few minutes.’

There was in fact plenty of time but Beth was worrying about April’s tear-streaked face. Her eyes and nose were red and swollen and she was looking anything but bridal. But maybe clever make-up could sort that out.

‘Tristram says I just have to get over the whole Mum thing. She’s dead and that’s not going to change.’

Beth couldn’t think of a reply. She just leant across from her chair to April’s and took her into her arms. ‘It’s not too late to call it off,’ she said.

To her surprise, this made April laugh. ‘He’s not that bad! I do really love him. He’s just got about as much tact as my dad’s old goat.’ She pulled out a scrap of used tissue from her pocket and blew her nose, following up with a swipe from her hand, the tissue being totally inadequate.

Rachel came in with a tray with mugs, a special box with different sorts of tea bags, bowls for used tea bags and sugar and a little jug of milk. ‘So, which kind of tea would you like? The kettle’s just about to boil, so just choose and I’ll make it.’

April seemed confused by the choice.

‘I think builder’s, Rach,’ said Beth. ‘I’d like that too.’

‘Fine. And Beth? There’s a box of tissues on the side.’

When Rachel came back with the filled mugs she gave one to April and offered a little bowl. ‘Sugar?’

April shook her head. ‘No thank you. But I wouldn’t say no to a biscuit or something. I didn’t have breakfast.’

‘Oh, God! Why not? I can’t cope without breakfast,’ said Beth while Rachel rushed back to her kitchen on the hunt for sustenance.

‘Nor me, usually,’ April explained, ‘but I had to be up early to get the pony ready to go in the trailer and then I ended up helping them put the cart on the low-loader—’

‘April! You shouldn’t have been doing all that on your wedding day. What were your dad and – er – Charlie doing?’ Beth was embarrassed to mention Charlie. She didn’t know if April knew that she had been out with him a couple of times and was quite keen.

‘Well, I get on best with Poppy – that’s the pony – and Dad and Charlie were doing the heavy work. Tristram’s going to help decorate it.’ She looked at her watch. ‘They’ll be doing it now.’

‘Actually, that’s quite sweet. I’ll forgive them all for making you work, now,’ said Beth. She got up, glad that April seemed to be back to her usual down-to-earth self.

Rachel came back with a plate of shortbread fingers. April took one. ‘I’m not sure it’s the best breakfast but otherwise it would be muesli with nuts and seeds and that didn’t seem appropriate.’ She left the plate near April and retired.

‘Um, Beth?’ said April, when the first shortbread finger had gone down.

‘Yes?’

‘I wonder if I could ask you a favour?’

Now Beth looked closely at April she could see her eyes were still a bit swimmy. Maybe she wasn’t as recovered as she’d thought. ‘Anything!’

‘Would you do my make-up for me?’

This was a bit of a shock. ‘I thought one of your bridesmaids was going to do it?’ It was one of the major economies: no make-up artist. They’d all been thrilled.

‘Yeah, but the thing is, she did a trial on me and I hated it. It was awful. I didn’t look like me at all! Tristram wouldn’t recognise me and Dad would disown me!’

‘No, I’m sure he wouldn’t. Not on your wedding day. Tristram won’t recognise you anyway, if you’re wearing a wonderful dress and not muddy old jodhpurs and his cast-off sweater!’ Beth smiled to make sure April knew she was joking, eager to make her feel happy about her bridesmaid’s make-up trial so she wouldn’t have to do it.

April shook her head. ‘Hang on. I’ve got a picture on my phone.’

Beth examined the photo. ‘Mmm, I see what you mean,’ she said after a few seconds. April looked like a woman who was well past the first flush of youth dressed for a night on the pull. Thick heavy eyebrows, caterpillar eyelashes, orange foundation and far too much eyeliner.

She picked her words carefully. ‘I can see it isn’t exactly a natural look, but won’t your friend be terribly upset if she doesn’t do your make-up?’

‘I’ve done that part. I said I didn’t like what she’d done and I’d find someone else. She said I wouldn’t be able to find anyone else. She nearly stopped being my bridesmaid but she fancies Charlie so didn’t want to miss out on coming to the wedding.’

‘Oh,’ said Beth, suppressing a pang of jealousy of the unknown bridesmaid. Then she cheered up. Anyone who could make April look like that when she was really very pretty couldn’t have much clue.

‘So I was hoping for something that made me look like me, but better. I’ve brought my kit,’ said April, unaware of Beth’s moment of suffering.

‘Let’s have a look.’

April’s kit was half an inch of a kohl pencil, a dried-up mascara and some ancient foundation that might have explained the orange in her trial.

‘Hmm,’ said Beth. ‘I’ll go and ask Rachel what she’s got.’

Beth found Rachel in the kitchen. ‘This is a nightmare! April wants me to do her make-up and she hasn’t got any, really. Have you got some?’

Rachel swallowed. ‘Yes. I have. Some.’ She breathed in slowly, through her nose and then breathed out again through her mouth. Beth recognised this was a coping mechanism and didn’t rush her. ‘I’m happy to donate it.’

‘But you won’t use it again afterwards?’

‘The pencils I will because I can sharpen them but not the eyeshadow or the foundation. It’s powder you see. I’ll wash the brushes for April. I could use them again, then. I think.’

‘Don’t wash them now though. We’d need them dry.’

‘Check with April that she doesn’t mind using my dirty brushes on her face,’ said Rachel. ‘It would freak me out.’

‘I don’t think she’s quite the same as you,’ said Beth, smiling so as not to cause offence. ‘I’ll have to sort her swollen eyes out first.’

Rachel looked happier. ‘I’m on the case. I’ve got wet cotton pads in the freezer.’

‘You’re brilliant. And can we borrow your laptop? YouTube, how to put on wedding make-up. I left my iPad on charge at home.’

‘Of course. I’ll bring it out.’

After April had eaten a surprising amount of shortbread and then some toast and Marmite that Rachel had produced, and had lain on Rachel’s sofa with cold pads on her eyes for some time, Beth felt they couldn’t put off the evil moment any longer. They had to get on with the make-up.

‘OK, so what we’re going to do is go through YouTube and find a look you like, then I’ll copy what they do, step by step. Painting by numbers, easy-peasy.’ She knew it wouldn’t be this simple but she felt inspiring her bride with confidence would be a good start.

Some time later, after they’d all laughed at the many spoof make-up lessons to be found, they realised that to do a look as suggested by the make-up artists, you needed a whole range of brushes and a zillion shades of foundation. You also needed a ton more make-up than even all three of them could provide.

‘We could ask Lindy to bring what she’s got,’ said Beth. ‘If we ring her now we’ll catch her before she sets out. But I don’t suppose she’s got much either. She doesn’t wear it, really.’

‘Well, let’s just go for it,’ said April. ‘Why don’t I just shut my eyes and you do it? I’m sure it’ll be fine.’

Rachel closed her laptop.

‘Hey!’ said Beth. ‘I thought I was going to copy it from YouTube, not actually do it freestyle!’

‘Come on!’ said Rachel. ‘We watched enough of them – just do it!’

Beth glanced at her. Those were very un-Rachel-like words. She was impressed.