A Vintage Wedding (44 page)

‘Hey!’ called Rachel when she spotted Lindy in the doorway of the marquee. It was the morning of Helena’s wedding. ‘Come over here! Help me with these jam jars!’

Rachel not only had a lot of jam jars that needed to be decorated, she had been extremely busy helping Belinda and generally keeping Vivien under control, but Vivien had mentioned that Lindy had been looking very well when she went with her to Birmingham flower market. Rachel wanted to know why. She was fairly sure it had a lot to do with Angus. Why else would the mother of a child with a broken arm be looking so upbeat?

Lindy dumped another box of jam jars on the floor beside the table. ‘These are from Gran. And here are the scraps of lace she had. Have you got ribbons?’

‘Zillions. Internet,’ said Rachel. ‘Beth got them. Fortunately that was before she and Sukey became unofficial PRs for Finn’s band. We have to hope they have moved the date of the gig otherwise they’ve done all that work for nothing. And of course now she’s in full-on bridesmaid mode.’

‘So, what are we doing?’

‘Lace round the jam jars with double-sided tape. Here.’ Rachel handed Lindy a roll. ‘But some will have ribbons as well. Five jam jars to a table, so that’s fifty.’

‘Wow, Rachel! No wonder you’re an accountant! You can do your times tables!’

‘Don’t be cheeky, you. Sit down and get going.’ Rachel was pleased to be with a friend. She could be herself with Lindy. She had to be the consummate professional when she was with Vivien, and Belinda now treated her like a sort of daughter-in-law, so Rachel felt she had to live up to her expectations. But with Lindy she could just relax.

Lindy sat. ‘I can’t believe I’m doing flowers, though it is fun, and actually a lot more restful than fighting Vivien about the extra crystals on Helena’s dress. Helena wanted them but Vivien said they were common. Obviously, I’m on the side of the bride.’

Rachel made a gesture. ‘Unless you were with her at the flower market, in which case you let the bride’s mother get totally carried away!’

‘OK, yes, so I did. But to be honest, she’d been so … embarrassing – ordering everyone about and snapping her fingers – I felt I should encourage her to give big orders.’ Lindy scratched at a bit of jam label that had got left on. ‘And there was something so wonderful about whole boxes of beautiful flowers I got carried away too. The scent was amazing.’

‘You liked it then?’

‘Oh, I did. You heard about Ned? And Angus being a total star?’

‘Word had got to me. So he was a hero?’

Lindy bit her lip, her gaze a bit dreamy. ‘I think he still is a hero, actually.’

Rachel clapped her hands. ‘I knew it. You are so right for each other. So, tell me what happened. Did you …?’ Lindy nodded shyly. ‘Go, girl! But how did you get over the “I can’t even look at another man until my boys have left home” thing?’

‘Well, I did fight it. I mean, me and Angus got together a little while ago – before the quiz.’

‘Beth said something about that. We knew you liked him and it was obvious he liked you, right from the start. But why didn’t you tell me?’

‘Because it wasn’t going anywhere – not then. It was just – well – sex.’

‘Ah,’ said Rachel, sighing slightly. ‘Lovely sex.’

Lindy swallowed, obviously agreeing with Rachel on this point.

‘So how did things move on?’ While fairly loved up herself, Rachel wasn’t going to let Lindy leave anything out.

‘Well, it was Ned really. We were in my bed and I’d forgotten I’d set my phone alarm for four a.m., for the flower market. He woke up. Came in to me and there we were. He was so relaxed about it.’

‘Oh, Lindy. I’m so pleased. I thought he was gorgeous and absolutely right for you. But …’ She made a face. ‘Raff is so wrong for me and look at us.’

‘Not wrong for you at all.’

‘So tell me all about the flower market then.’

Lindy smiled in reminiscence. ‘Well, I was completely zonked – fell asleep on the journey – but being there was like …’ Lindy paused, obviously looking for the right word. ‘The best kind of sweet shop, when everything is really tempting, and you don’t have to have just a few but a whole box, or bucket, or whatever.’

‘Did you and Vivien stick out like sore thumbs?’ asked Rachel, trying to picture Vivien, perfectly groomed even at four in the morning, surrounded by men in overalls with strong Birmingham accents. Her loud, cut-glass vowels must have stuck out like crystals in a sandpit.

‘Surprisingly, not as much as you’d think! Vivien had been before and there were a few women like her ordering stuff. But I suppose posh women do do flower-arranging; we just don’t associate them with markets – at such an horrendous hour in the morning.’

‘It does sound fun, although I’m not sure I’d have got up that early to go.’

‘I’d go again, if necessary. It was like a shop but giant-sized. A massive great warehouse full of great trolleys laden with boxes of exotic flowers, which looked like shops, with boxes and buckets full of wonderful stuff. Honestly, Rachel, it was enough to make anyone want to take up floristry.’ She smiled. ‘Not to be confused with flower-arranging.’

‘Well, don’t add it to your list of accomplishments until we have someone else who can do dresses. You do have such a strong artistic sense.’

‘That’s what Vivien said. It made me forgive her for calling a stallholder “my good man”. OK!’ Lindy regarded her current jam jar with satisfaction. ‘Remind me, can I put any colour ribbon on? Is there a code?’

‘No, we’re going freestyle. Goes against the grain. If it were my wedding, I’d just have various shades of cream …’

‘Really?’ Lindy squeaked. ‘Surely not. I mean, you’d need
some
colour.’ She paused and looked at Rachel sideways. ‘Are you actually planning a wedding?’

Rachel, who planned her wedding whenever she felt that Helena and Vivien were doing something that didn’t fit in with her aesthetic, shrugged. ‘Not in real life, no. It’s a bit early for that.’ Then a sigh she didn’t know was there erupted. ‘Raff is lovely though.’

‘He is. We’re very lucky.’

‘Do we know what happened to Beth?’ asked Rachel. ‘Apart from leaving us here?’ She gestured at the marquee, bustling with people, promising to look sensational.

‘Well, the gig is tonight. Poor Beth – she’d obviously be at the gig if it wasn’t her sister’s wedding day.’

Lindy became anxious. ‘I do hope she and Finn work out. She must really care, or she’d have just let them do the gig on the Saturday and miss the impresario – or whoever it was needed to see them for their new career to be launched. She admitted it was probably madness but she couldn’t help herself, she really liked him. I do hope it’s different to Charlie this time.’

‘I’m afraid it may not be, because the last I heard was when I got a very clipped message from her saying that she didn’t know if the gig was even still on, she didn’t care, and she might have known Finn would be another Charlie. She did sound rather tearful now I think about it. I haven’t been able to get hold of her again.’

‘Oh dear. And I haven’t heard from her either. I think she’s all right – at least we know she’s alive. She left the van outside my house and posted the keys,’ said Lindy. ‘It is worrying,’ she went on. ‘But she’s an adult. She has to live her life herself.’

They both added lace and ribbon to a couple of jars before Lindy, obviously wanting to think about something more cheerful than Beth’s possibly broken heart, said, ‘So, Rachel, when you’re planning your wedding in your head, where do you have it? A hotel? A stately home? A marquee in a field?’ Lindy looked around, admiring the developing glamour.

Rachel swallowed. ‘The hall,’ she said. ‘Our village hall. It will be the only place for me.’

Lindy suddenly put her hand on hers and squeezed it. Rachel loved the fact Lindy understood, without having it all explained to her; why she, picky, OCD Rachel, would, if asked, have her wedding in a small, currently fairly rundown village hall when, in theory at least, she could get married anywhere.

‘I feel the same,’ said Lindy. ‘It brought us together, that hall, made us create Vintage Weddings, which has been amazing for me.’

Rachel nodded and cleared her throat. ‘We owe it. Not that Raff has asked me to marry him or anything. Maybe never will!’

Lindy seemed a bit tearful too. ‘So, what do we do with the jars when we’ve decorated them?’

‘Take them over to those women over there. They’re the Flower Guild and the WI. They’ve raided their gardens for foliage and are doing a brilliant job. Take this lot over and see.’

The women had taken over a couple of large round tables and were creating perfect little arrangements in every jar. Lindy knew several of them, it turned out. They were her grandmother’s friends, or her mother’s. They admired the little jars, and she admired how quickly they selected material, twisted them together with wire, and made something beautiful.

‘These spring flowers are so lovely, Lindy,’ said one. ‘I love these little Wordsworth daffodils.’

‘Yes,’ agreed another. I’ve rather gone off those big fat King Alfreds.’

‘Sorry,’ said Rachel. ‘But what are Wordsworth daffodils?’

‘Oh! You know, from the poem. “I Wandered Lonely as a Cloud”. They’re like the wild ones,’ the woman explained. ‘The King Alfreds are those really yellow ones that you often see in formal displays.’

Rachel nodded. ‘I totally agree. You women are epic.’

‘She doesn’t mean we’re fat, does she?’ one asked another.

‘No!’ said Lindy. ‘And if she’d said you were sick, that would have been a compliment, too.’

Rachel had things to do. She opened her trusty Emma Bridgewater. ‘Oh, give over, Lindy, you and your street talk. We need to check the ovens have arrived and it’s all OK for Belinda for later. And I’m sure you’ve got a Swarovski crystal or two to adjust.’

Lindy laughed. ‘I’m sure I have!’

Meanwhile, over in Chippingford, Beth had opened her eyes and seen that at least it wasn’t raining. That fitted in with the weather forecast on her phone. Good. All the family, and Lindy and Rachel, had been looking at weather forecasts on various websites for days and none of them quite agreed. Beth’s had said it would be a lovely day, the kind you can get in April when everyone says, ‘I expect this is summer.’ She was going to trust hers.

For a few seconds she lay there, wondering how Helena was feeling, and Jeff and her mother? Were they feeling anxious? Excited? Or just wanting to get on with it? Then she wondered how Finn and the band were feeling. This was their big day too. It could be the dawning of a new career for them. Or it could be a small gig in a small venue and only a few people, drummed up by her or Sukey. She wondered why she cared so much, especially as Finn had made it perfectly clear she was persona non grata as far as he was concerned. But you couldn’t just switch off your feelings for someone, not if you really cared, and she admitted that she did. And when you cared about someone you always wanted the best for them.

Feeling her loyalties torn between the two events, wanting passionately for them both to go well, she got out of bed and into the shower. She was not going to have her hair done by the hairdresser brought in by her mother. Having it so short meant she didn’t have to. She was going to do it herself, thus saving money and, more importantly, the hairdresser’s time. She hadn’t actually told her mother this yet, but she would. Beth had never known either her mother or sister to be relaxed about what was being done to their hair. There might be requests for the whole process to be done again. Still, at least the hairdresser had been arranged by her mother. No one else could be held responsible if she didn’t do a good job.

As she used the special shower gel her mother had given her and Nancy as bridesmaids’ presents, aware that when it was gone she might never again wash herself in Floris, she determined that nothing, particularly her own private heartbreak, was going to spoil her sister’s day.

Determined to count her blessings and not just feel miserable about Finn, she realised how lucky she was that, instead of turfing her out of their holiday house or, worse, wanting to share it, Jeff’s parents had hired a huge mansion nearby. They had filled it with Jeff’s grandparents, his aunts and sister. The thought of sleeping on the sofa while her sister’s parents-in-law took the only bed had been worrying Beth on and off since she first realised it was a possibility. Luckily other distractions meant this had only recently occurred to her.

One of the band had left a message with Sukey to say that yes, they would perform on the Friday – tonight! – but she’d heard nothing from Finn.

At least she knew now. He didn’t care about her, didn’t want her in his life, and that was that, otherwise why not get in touch? How long did it take to write a text? Just something. But no. Well, she’d be fine. It wasn’t the first time it had happened, after all, and it probably wouldn’t be the last. Not that she could really compare her feelings for Charlie with what she felt for Finn. But she’d been crazy. He was way out of her league. He just thought she was some sort of crazed fangirl, not someone he would ever consider having a relationship with.

She was obviously a bad picker. But bad picker or not, today she’d be a good bridesmaid and a good part of Vintage Weddings. And at least the other two girls seemed to have found good men who loved them. Lindy and Angus seemed to have got together quite quickly – she’d had an excited text from Lindy – but that was sweet. He was her first love, after all.