Lindy laughed. ‘I expect so but you’ll have to fight Mrs Jenkins for the date. She wants the WI to organise a hop for the same reason.’
‘Oh, good idea!’ said Sarah. ‘But I expect she means more of a thé dansant, as Gran would call it. Tea dance to you and me. We could have the quiz the same evening.’
Lindy shook her head. ‘Think of the clearing up! Also, all your quizzers will be exhausted from hopping. Better make it another night. The boughs will last for a bit. It’s always so cold in here when the heating’s not on, they won’t drop for a while.’
‘Oh, you’re right. Of course you are. But will you join our quiz team? I might go for Saturday after next. I’ve asked Angus. He says he loves quizzes.’
Lindy had been known to say this too but really hoped Angus wouldn’t think her mother was matchmaking. It was bad enough for her, but if he felt he was being pushed towards Lindy, it would be so desperately embarrassing she’d never be able to look him in the eye again. ‘No, Mum, I can’t leave the boys with Gran for another night, she’s had them so much recently. Gran should go instead.’
Sarah shook her head. ‘Not on a Saturday night, she won’t.’
‘Why on earth not?’ Lindy suddenly worried that her grandmother was starting to feel her age and not want to go out during the evening. ‘She’s OK, isn’t she? Having the boys so much hasn’t exhausted her?’ She said this before working out that her mother was unlikely to suggest Gran had them again if this was the case.
‘She’s fine. She’s just very into the latest Scandi crime thing with subtitles.’
‘That’s silly. She could record it.’
‘She does record it,’ said Sarah. ‘She says she needs to see it twice, so she can follow the plot.’
Lindy laughed fondly. ‘She’s amazing, but don’t rely on me. I want to see how she and the boys feel about it. They’ve hardly seen me in daylight recently.’
‘The quiz won’t be in daylight, will it?’
‘You know what I mean, Mum. They need to sleep in their own beds with their mum in the next bedroom.’
‘Fair enough,’ said Sarah. ‘Oh, look, there’s Bob. I’d better go and see what he thinks about bringing the quiz forward.’
Lindy set off to find Rachel to see how she was getting on. She hadn’t seen Raff anywhere, which was a shame. While she’d thought her mother was mad trying to link up Raff and Rachel, getting him to walk Rachel home after that first meeting, he did seem to have had a good effect on her friend. She was much more relaxed about things these days. She’d still been incredibly efficient with amazing attention to detail, but the silly things didn’t seem to bother her quite so much.
‘It’s all amazing!’ said Rachel. ‘It looks like a scene from a costume drama.’
‘A contemporary costume drama,’ Lindy objected. ‘People are in modern dress.’
‘You think?’
Lindy laughed. ‘OK, maybe not modern dress for London but us yokels are happy enough with our threads. But, seriously, it does look great with all the people here.’
‘It does,’ agreed Rachel. ‘They’re going to do the speeches now, then we’ll clear away the tables and chairs so people can dance. Do you think people will go to the pub while we do that?’
‘I think they’ll help clear away!’ said Lindy. ‘Everyone seems to have taken on this wedding as their own, and they all want to help.’
‘… and finally,’ said Eamon, red-faced and relishing his role as ‘father of the bride’, ‘I want you all to raise your glasses in a toast to thank the wonderful young women who made all this possible. Without them, April and Tristram would have had to get married in our old barn. As it is, we’ve got this magnificent hall. So, to …’ He referred to a piece of paper. ‘Beth, Lindy and Rachel, Vintage Weddings!’
There was a cheer that owed more to the amount of alcohol consumed than to enthusiasm for wedding planners, but they accepted their toast gracefully, even a little bit tearfully.
‘It was a real pleasure to arrange a wedding for such a lovely bride,’ said Rachel, when it appeared a reply was called for. There was a lot more cheering.
‘Now!’ said Eamon. ‘On with the party!’
Lindy had been right when she’d said that people would help move tables and chairs. She, Beth and Rachel got together for a brief discussion. ‘I’ve asked Joan if she’ll start rationalising the food,’ said Lindy.
‘We’d better do some plates for the band. They’ll be here any minute,’ said Lindy.
‘They’re friends of April’s dad, aren’t they?’ said Rachel.
‘That’s right. It’s a wedding present to April, but if we’re nice to them they might do us a good deal if we use them again.’
‘Humph,’ said Rachel. ‘Let’s see what they sound like first. Not sure if I’m keen on Wurzle-alikes.’
‘You’re just so London and sophisticated!’ said Lindy and then added, in broad Mummerset, ‘You’ll get used to our country ways soon enough, you see if you don’t, my lover.’
Rachel gave her a push and handed her a pile of plates. ‘You load up the band with carbs, then. Line their stomachs for a heavy night’s drinking.’
‘When I’ve fed the band would it be awful if I went home?’ said Lindy.
‘Of course not! You’ve been here since before dawn,’ said Beth.
‘Well, not quite – although it was an early start – but it’s the boys, really. They’re with Gran, and are staying the night. I’ll stay there too; I know she doesn’t really switch off and sleep properly until she hears me come in.’
‘Oh no, that’s fine. There are masses of helpers, after all. It’s been so good.’ Rachel sighed happily. ‘I’m loving Vintage Weddings! It’s been really challenging for me, you know, with my neurosis – never used to call it that! – but I’ve loved relaxing into life more.’
‘I’ve loved it too! Vintage Weddings, I mean,’ said Beth. ‘Who’d have thought my sister getting married would have such a good effect on our lives.’
‘It’s turned my life around,’ said Lindy.
They exchanged a group hug and then Lindy started loading plates for the band.
When she’d delivered them, overflowing with pork pie, sandwiches and chicken legs, to a very grateful band who’d just got through the door after a long journey, she went to get them drinks. She wasn’t exactly sure what sort of music they played but she felt Rachel was probably right: they would play traditional folk songs, get slightly drunk and everyone would love it. Sophistication didn’t go down well in Chippingford.
After what must have been a very hasty few bites of supper, the band struck up for the first dance.
‘Oh, I love this one!’ whispered Lindy, who found herself next to Beth. ‘“The Way You Look Tonight”.’
Beth nodded. ‘It was her parents’ first dance, apparently. So sweet!’
The couple supported each other as they circled round and round, not attempting to do fancy steps or anything except show their love for each other. Lindy found a tissue and had a surreptitious blow before heading for the door as soon as everyone else joined April and Tristram on the dance floor.
But Lindy couldn’t leave immediately. Before she could find her coat she was dragged on to the floor by a friend of her gran’s. He’d definitely be a candidate for the hop, she decided, as he was very good at it. He also had a grip of steel. As long as they didn’t both end up on the floor, all would be well. The dance ended and she thanked him profusely before he could even think of asking her again. Then someone else cut in and she found herself on the floor for yet another dance. She discovered she quite liked jiving although she couldn’t really do it.
As she wiped her palms on her skirt she spotted Rachel being flung about just as wildly. While she did have a glassy stare and a fixed smile, she wasn’t crying so it was probably all right. Beth was dancing more sedately with Charlie. She looked as happy as anything. Beth hadn’t talked about it much – obviously not wanting to jinx anything – but Lindy knew they’d spent a bit of time together and Beth was really keen on Charlie. She was so pleased for Beth. She’d make a brilliant farmer’s wife. Then she smiled to herself – she was just like her mother, matchmaking!
Thinking she really needed a drink of water before finally heading off, Lindy went up to the bar. To her slight consternation, she found she was being served by Angus.
‘Water’s free,’ he said, putting down a pint glass of it.
‘Thank you.’ She gulped some down, wishing she didn’t feel so embarrassed. How hot and sweaty did she look? Had he seen her do-si-doing with a couple of elderly Lotharios? And she was wearing a costume she suddenly felt a bit self-conscious in.
‘You look nice,’ said Angus. ‘I don’t think I’ve ever seen you wearing anything other than jeans.’
Lindy didn’t believe him. She couldn’t possibly look nice when, basically, she was sweating like a pig, all her make-up was probably under her eyes and her hair was half hanging down from its once-elegant chignon. ‘Really?’
‘Yes. I don’t think I’ve seen you wearing a skirt before – at least not for years.’
This felt like a challenge. She put her hands on her hips and looked up at him. ‘Well, I’ve never seen you wearing pyjamas,’ she said crisply. ‘It doesn’t mean you don’t wear them!’
He smiled, apologetic. ‘Actually, I don’t.’
Lindy didn’t have a snappy answer to bat back to him. She blinked at him for a couple of seconds and then found herself saying, ‘Jolly good!’
Then, embarrassed beyond belief, she took her glass of water and left the bar area. She didn’t want to know what he wore – or didn’t wear – in bed. But now he’d told her she couldn’t get the image out of her mind.
They’d had a nice time the other day, scrabbling in the hedgerows together, but she felt awkward now. She had loved her skirt and plain black top, she’d even liked the touch of eyeliner and mascara that Beth had applied with a newly confident hand, but it wasn’t really her. It felt sad and wrong to be approved of when she was in costume. Jeans and sweaters were her actual uniform.
Also, no man had paid her a compliment for so long it felt almost like a criticism. And why did she care what Angus thought about her clothes? She felt so thrown by the whole thing she decided that this time she really would go home.
Lindy spent fifteen minutes saying goodbye to her nearest and dearest, which tonight included the bride’s family and practically everyone else who was there.
She was halfway down the path from the hall that led across the village green when she heard footsteps behind her. She turned and saw Angus.
‘Sorry,’ he said. ‘Did I give you a fright? I never know the etiquette about walking behind women in the dark. How do you let them know you’re not threatening?’
Lindy shrugged. She didn’t want to confess that in spite of her conscious mind knowing it was terribly unlikely she’d get mugged by a wedding guest, the footsteps had made her heart race. ‘I don’t know.’ She felt like a teenager – a young teenager – flustered by being in the presence of a friend’s older brother.
‘So, can I walk you home?’
Such an old-fashioned thing to say. ‘If you want to, but I will be OK.’
‘I know you will but I wanted a chance to talk. Also an excuse to get away. Audrey was showing up my lack of pint-pulling ability.’
She laughed, relaxing. ‘Maybe Sukey will have to get her in on especially busy nights.’
‘Anyway, if I haven’t given you a heart attack, I wanted to ask you about opportunities for me to be a bit more avuncular.’ She stared at him. ‘You know,’ he went on, ‘about seeing your boys more. Being a proper uncle.’
Lindy felt incredibly foolish. It wasn’t that she didn’t know what ‘avuncular’ meant, it was that for a few minutes she’d forgotten that Angus was related to her boys. She’d thought he’d been flirting with her, and she had flirted back. Now it seemed it was just because she was the mother of his nephews. She felt suddenly flat.
‘I’m sure they’d love that. My dad does his best and although he’s brilliant with them, they could do with someone – well, a bit more sporty. They do miss out not having a dad, rather.’ The moment she’d finished speaking she realised she’d inadvertently criticised his brother. She hadn’t meant to – although it was true.
‘I’m not great at footie but I can play basketball,’ said Angus.
‘That’s because you’re tall. Cheating really.’ Lindy smiled at him.
‘It’s why it’s my chosen sport.’
‘Sadly, there isn’t a hoop locally, so you might have to practise dribbling or whatever it is football players do. But, seriously, whenever you want to take them fishing or something, let me know. I’ll see what I can do to make it possible.’ Suddenly she sighed. She didn’t just want Angus to be a better uncle; she wanted something from him herself.
He must have heard the sigh. ‘Lindy? Is everything all right?’
Lindy faked a yawn that turned into a real one. ‘I’m fine. I’m just tired. This wedding has been a lot of work and a great deal of it quite last minute. Now I’m not stressing any more, I’ve sort of gone ping and so feel exhausted.’
He smiled understandingly. ‘I bet. I picked a really bad moment. Could I have your number? So I can ring at a better time and arrange something?’ He pulled out his phone expectantly.
Lindy gave it to him.
‘Thanks,’ he said, putting away his phone; then he held out his arm. ‘Now, can I escort you to your door?’
Lindy took his arm. ‘I’m grateful for the support. I’m out on my feet. But I’m going to my grandmother’s house. Just a bit further away than mine.’
‘I could carry you if you liked. Or give you a piggy back?’
He was laughing but she suddenly remembered a time when a whole gang of them had been messing around after a barbeque. Angus had given her a piggyback then and Lindy had thought she’d died and gone to heaven.
‘Better not,’ she said, ‘although my feet would appreciate it. Someone might see us and think I was drunk. Very bad for the company image!’ She was pleased with herself for managing to sound so flippant.
‘In which case I’ll try to prop you up as best I can without sweeping you off your feet.’
Bit late for that, thought Lindy, who realised, unless she was very, very careful, she’d find herself developing a crush on him all over again.
‘I won’t be able to ask you for coffee or anything, as it’ll wake my grandmother.’