A Vintage Wedding (37 page)

By coincidence – Lindy didn’t really think she’d conjured him up – there was an email from Edward when she got home.

Hi, coming back to the UK for a few weeks. I’d obviously like to see the boys when I’m over
.

As far as Lindy was concerned it wasn’t obvious at all. He’d been back to the UK a few times and not once visited his sons. She knew this from something his mother had let slip. He just sent birthday presents if he remembered and that was that. She read on.

I’ll be staying with Angus so will be able to take them out and maybe have them to stay over in his house
.

Was Angus’s house fit for guests? She didn’t care about Edward but she didn’t want her boys spending time in a house that was mostly a building site.

I’ll ring when I get here next week
.

Next week? Just before the wedding? That’s all she needed. She’d be far too busy and wouldn’t want the distraction of wondering how safe her boys were in their father’s hands. She had never worked out if she was, as he insisted, an overly anxious mother, or if he was a bit careless. And then there was Angus – that could be really awkward. Supposing the boys mentioned he’d read to them? Edward could well be funny about it. In fact, she suspected that he was only coming to see the boys now because Angus had mentioned something.

She banged off an email.
The boys would really love to see you but could it be after next week please? Things are so hectic here
.

She considered explaining about having to make the wedding dress and bridesmaids’ dresses but decided not to. He wouldn’t understand how her being busy meant she didn’t want her boys out of their routine. As she signed off she wondered if she was indeed being neurotic.

Then she got out the net and began sewing.

The bridesmaids would be wearing the softest teal colour with wide satin sashes. Beth had sourced the leotards and fabric and Lindy was confident that they were going to look sensational.

The wedding dress was going to be harder because the basque was stiffer and although the skirt was going to be separate, Lindy was anxious in case they didn’t look as if they were meant to be together. She went on sewing until her grandmother rang to ask her if she wanted her to feed the boys and keep them for the night. Guiltily, she accepted this offer and carried on working until Beth came round to have hers fitted.

Beth was excited at the prospect of trying on her bridesmaid’s dress. She was also looking forward to spending time with Lindy, who was undemanding and entertaining company. She’d spent the day with her mother and sister and was more than a little fed up with wedding chat. It was probably inevitable but Helena and her mother seemed to think that having an amazing wedding was the most important thing in life.

Lindy pulled the door open before Beth’s hand had even left the knocker. ‘Oh God! Beth! Thank goodness you’re here. I’ve just had a really panicky phone call from your mum. And they’re coming over here now.’

‘What was she panicking about?’ said Beth, who’d experienced her mother’s panicky phone calls before.

‘I don’t know.’ Lindy was flying about her sitting room kicking boxes of things under chairs. ‘But it was bad. She used the F-word.’

Beth was taken aback now. ‘She used the F-word? My mother? I didn’t know she knew it. At least, obviously she knows it because she gets so upset if anyone else uses it but I really didn’t think there was anything in the world bad enough to make her say it.’ Beth suddenly felt weak. ‘It’s something to do with the wedding and it’s bad. I do hope Jeff hasn’t called it all off! He’s a nice man – really good for Helena.’

Lindy was dragging a Henry out from under the stairs. The hose disconnected from the machine’s smiley face and she kicked it. ‘That would be dreadful. To be left at the altar. But why would she come and see me about it? Thank God the boys are with my gran.’

‘Here, let me do that. You might want to find mugs and things. She’ll probably demand tea or coffee.’

There was no doubt about whom Beth meant when she said ‘she’.

Lindy had forced the door of the cupboard under the stairs shut with the Henry inside when there was a knock at the door. Beth opened it to her mother and sister.

Her mother had obviously calmed down a lot since she’d phoned Lindy. There was no way a four-letter word would pass her lips now.

‘I cannot believe this. This cannot have happened. It is a complete and utter disaster.’

‘Oh come on, Mum!’ said Helena. ‘It’s bad but no one has died!’

‘That’s a relief,’ said Beth. ‘What has happened then?’ What on earth could it be that had caused such panic?

‘Mum booked the church for the wrong date.’

‘Oh my God!’ said Beth, pressing her hand to her mouth.

‘That is quite bad,’ said Lindy.

‘I did not book the church for the wrong date,’ hissed Vivien. ‘The vicar, who must have been drunk or on drugs when we made the arrangement, has booked the church for the wrong date. He booked it for the Friday, not the Saturday!’

‘Did you notice anything odd about him at the time?’ asked Lindy.

Beth winced for her friend as her mother turned her furious gaze upon her. ‘He seemed perfectly all right but how he could make a mistake like that—’

‘I’m going to make tea,’ said Lindy, obviously desperate to escape the scene.

‘I don’t want tea!’ said Vivien, as near to shouting as her personal standards would allow. ‘I need brandy!’

Beth, fully aware there was no way in the world that Lindy would have brandy said, ‘Just breathe, Mum. Sit on that chair and breathe in through your nose and out through your mouth.’

Having first removed a toy fire engine that issued an alarm call from under her, her mother did as her youngest daughter suggested, for probably the first time in Beth’s life. She closed her eyes and took measured breaths.

‘Cool!’ whispered Helena to Beth. ‘Where did you learn that technique?’

Beth shrugged. ‘Dunno. Probably saw it on telly.’

Vivien opened her eyes. ‘Are you telling me you told me to do something you’ve only seen on television?’

‘But it’s working, Mum,’ said Helena. ‘Keep on doing it.’

Lindy came in with a tray. On it were four mugs and a bottle of something that looked like Ribena. ‘Sloe gin,’ she said. ‘The nearest thing to brandy I’ve got.’ She half filled a tumbler with it. ‘There you are, Mrs – Vivien, get it down you, as my dad would say.’

Vivien opened her eyes and took the glass and then a sip. ‘Good God!’ she exclaimed. ‘That’s strong.’

‘It’s neat gin really,’ Lindy explained. ‘With sloes and sugar. My grandmother makes it every year. I’ve got another bottle if you fancy taking it home.’

‘It’s all right,’ said Vivien. ‘Although it is quite calming, actually.’

‘The thing is, Mum,’ said Beth while her mother was fairly quiescent. ‘We have to think what we need to do about this wrong date. Is it on all the invitations?’

Vivien nodded, clutching her sloe gin close to her.

‘Well, that’s OK, me and Dad’ll just ring everyone and tell them the date is wrong. Maybe it’ll cut down the numbers a bit, which is always good.’

‘As long as they’re your friends who can’t come, Mum, I’ll be very happy,’ said Helena. ‘Half the golf club have been invited.’

‘If I’m paying, Helena,’ said her mother through clenched teeth, ‘it’s not unreasonable for me to have some say as to who comes. When I got married I had no say in the guest list whatsoever! My own friends were only invited if they were the daughters of my parents’ friends.’

Beth sighed. It was obvious that her mother looked back at those days with nostalgia. Personally she felt a bit of nostalgia for when it was all going to be handled by Vintage Weddings. Although, with her mother in charge, it would always have been extremely stressful. ‘Is there a list of who’s invited?’

‘Of course. On the computer.’

‘With their telephone numbers? Email addresses?’

‘Of course not,’ said Vivien, just as vehement. ‘We had engraved invitations. They cost over five pounds each.’

‘Blimey,’ said Lindy. ‘I thought there was a budget for this wedding.’

Vivien gave her a look. ‘Some things I had control of.’

‘Right,’ said Beth. ‘Have you spoken to Dad about this?’

‘When was your father ever any use at a time like this?’

Beth was very fond of her dad and thought he was just the rock she would need if she were as devastated as her mother seemed to be. ‘I’ll call him.’

She went into the kitchen to do just this and had a fairly calm conversation. Her father would immediately email all the telephone numbers and email addresses of the guests that he could find. Then they would divide the list in two and he would call one half and Beth the other.

‘There’s just one thing, Dad,’ said Beth, squirming a bit. ‘I’ll have to do it from my mobile and …’

‘I’ll sort the bill out, love. You’ve got your mother to contend with.’

Beth went back into the sitting room, pleased with herself. ‘It’s OK, Mum. Dad and I will get in touch—’ She stopped speaking as she witnessed her mother rise from her chair and walk across the room, looking as if she’d seen some terrible outrage.

‘Is that my veil?’ Vivien demanded.

‘Yes,’ said Lindy nervously.

‘What in God’s name has happened to it?’

‘Mum! You asked Lindy to get her grandmother to clean it,’ said Helena. ‘It’s fine. What are you worried about?’

‘That veil was – is – an antique. And it’s nearly white! What did she do to it?’

Lindy looked nervous but determined. ‘You asked her to clean it and she did. She then dyed it so it matches the tulle for the dress perfectly.’

‘Great. Thanks, Lindy,’ said Helena.

Vivien didn’t hear her daughter’s approval. ‘She dyed it? She dyed my wedding veil?’

‘She dipped it in tea,’ said Lindy, looking defensive. ‘And now it matches the dress.’

‘I don’t know what to say,’ said Vivien, sitting down again with a sigh.

Beth picked up the sloe gin and poured another good half-glass and handed it to her mother. ‘Don’t say anything. Drink this and calm down.’

‘You sound exactly like your father,’ Vivien muttered into the glass.

‘Good! Dad’s great and he’s going to get us out of this mess.’ Beth picked up her tea mug. ‘Here’s to Dad.’

When a script had finally been decided upon, one that didn’t imply the change of date was in any way a mistake on Vivien’s part – ‘owing to an administrative error’, which Beth thought was a bit of a mouthful – Beth began her telephoning.

At ten in the morning, two days later, Rachel was driving Vivien to meet Belinda. ‘I feel I must check every detail myself,’ Vivien had declared, ignoring the fact that the wrong date fiasco was down to her. ‘I know we’ve agreed a menu, and you’re here to make sure it all works, but I must be sure it’s going to be right.’

Rachel felt it was her duty to take Vivien but she was very anxious. Both women were strong personalities and although she was strong herself she didn’t know if she could umpire if they fell out. At least Raff had told her he was busy. He would be an added complication. The downside of being in love, she now knew, was that it stopped you thinking clearly. She needed to be on top of her game and if Raff were there she would only think about sex. She cleared her throat. ‘I know Belinda is very much looking forward to meeting you.’

‘And me her. She sounds …’ Vivien picked her words. ‘Fairly eccentric.’

Rachel nodded. She couldn’t deny Belinda was that. ‘How are you getting on at the pub?’

‘Well, Sukey does her best, but her heart isn’t in the business of B and B. She doesn’t really do detail, not like you and I do.’

Rachel felt slightly ill to think she might be like Vivien – especially when she realised it was true.

‘No, the pub is her business and what she really cares about,’ said Rachel.

A little later, Rachel turned into Belinda’s drive.

‘What a beautiful house!’ said Vivien, much to Rachel’s satisfaction. Then she said, ‘But why has it been let go so?’

Rachel had wondered the same thing and suspected it was a lack of money, but she felt protective. If money wasn’t an issue, and Belinda simply didn’t want her house decorated, restored and presented like she – and obviously Vivien – would have liked, well, it was her choice. ‘It’s a work in progress. Belinda has cleared out a lot of rooms recently. I expect she’ll decide what she wants to do with it when that process has been completed.’ She didn’t explain how Belinda planned to create a flat in the house because it wasn’t Vivien’s business. She also realised she’d sounded dreadfully pompous but decided Vivien did that to people.

‘It would be such an amazing project. I wonder if she’d sell?’ Vivien’s eyes sparkled at the prospect.

Fortunately Belinda appeared from the back door and Rachel didn’t have to answer. She liked Vivien, admired her in many ways, but she felt this was out of order.

‘Darling!’ said Belinda to Rachel, kissing her cheek.

From behind his mother, Raff appeared. He also said, ‘Darling!’ but kissed her on the mouth.

Reluctantly, she pulled away. She hadn’t seen Raff for a couple of days and had missed him horribly. ‘I thought you said you were busy!’ she muttered.