Appleby Farm (44 page)

‘Let’s have a look at your list,’ she said, reading over my shoulder. ‘Mistletoe, champagne, bells, ribbon – oh, very romantic.’

‘It is, isn’t it?’ I smiled, kissing her cheek. ‘Our first wedding, Mum.’

She sipped her tea and smiled. ‘Exciting. And you’ve worked so hard, darling, I’m sure it will be a great success.’

‘I know that marriage is all about celebrating love and life together, but the wedding is the start of the journey and I adore the thought that I’ll have helped make Tilly and Aidan’s day magical for them.’

We sat in the silence of our own thoughts for a few seconds when suddenly I wondered when I’d get my own magical day and a sigh slipped out.

‘That’s a big sigh.’ Mum’s eyes searched mine, full of concern.

Since we’d got closer, I’d told her about Charlie and how I’d thought at one time that he could be The One. However, I hadn’t mentioned my feelings for Harry because she had a habit of going all girlie when he was around and I suspected she wouldn’t be above a bit of well-intended match-making if she thought that would help. But now, in the quiet of the kitchen, just the two of us awake in the world, I had a sudden urge to tell all.

‘I miss being half of a couple, Mum.’

She put her arms around me and pulled me to her side. ‘Oh, Freya, you’ll find the right man one day, I’m sure.’

‘The thing is, I’ve got a major crush on Harry. But it’s unrequited.’ I shrugged helplessly. ‘We’re friends, which is lovely, but I want us to be more than that.’

‘Oh, darling, I don’t think it’s unrequited.’ Mum chuckled softly. ‘I’ve watched him when you enter the room. He’s like a brighter version of himself when you’re around.’

I frowned. ‘Really? Then why doesn’t he say something or do something? I’ve given him loads of chances …’ I giggled. ‘That sounds like I’ve been virtually throwing myself at him at every opportunity.’

‘You two have grown up together. Perhaps he’s being cautious because there’s so much at stake. You know, shared history.’

‘But whatever happens we’d still have that.’

‘Yes, but would you still have your friendship?’

I opened my mouth but my answer was cut short by the sound of a truck pulling into the yard. The caterers had arrived.

‘Goodness,’ said Mum, ‘they’re early!’

‘Aidan suggested that as so many of us are staying here, they might as well arrive early and cook us all bacon sandwiches.’

Four people still cocooned in sleeping bags sat up immediately.

Phil, Aidan’s best man, yawned and scratched his chin. ‘Did someone mention bacon?’

At noon the church bells were chiming joyfully and a low sun was making the frosty churchyard sparkle. Everything had gone to plan – even the snow showers had held off this morning – and I was brimming with relief and excitement. I opened the church doors, breathless from all the running around, and looked for Lizzie. A hush had already descended on the surprisingly large congregation as I slipped into my seat at the back of the little church beside her and Ross.

‘Tilly’s arrived,’ I whispered to her. ‘You’ve done amazing things to her hair. She looks like a 1940s starlet.’

Lizzie flicked her hair over her shoulder and beamed. ‘Thanks. Doesn’t the church look pretty?’

I nodded.

The end of every pew was adorned with bunches of holly, mistletoe and ivy, tied with hessian ribbon. A plump Christmas tree festooned with children’s hand-made decorations stood to one side of the altar and a beautiful wooden nativity scene to the other. Aidan, in the centre, looking handsome in a pale-grey suit, glanced over his shoulder every few seconds to catch a glimpse of his bride.

‘And packed!’ I exclaimed. ‘I think the whole of Lovedale has turned up!’

Somewhere above us a pianist started to play a beautiful, magical piece of music. A few bars in, the double doors were opened by invisible hands and Tilly appeared on the arm of her mum. The sight of that alone had me blinking back the tears. Her dad had died years ago, I’d been told.

‘Oh, bless,’ breathed Lizzie.

‘I know,’ I whispered back hoarsely, sending up a silent prayer of thanks for having such a healthy dad of my own.

I’d assumed that as I was here in some sort of official capacity I would be too busy to get all emotional. Stupid, stupid me. I pressed a finger under each eye and hoped my mascara wasn’t making them completely panda-like.

The congregation turned and smiled as one as Tilly, swathed in a bias-cut cream satin dress and faux-fur shrug, glided majestically past with her mum. I spotted Charlie for the first time, pressed up close to Anna halfway up the church on the opposite side. They caught my eye and waved in unison. Charlie had had a late shift yesterday and so they’d driven up this morning with Gemma’s husband, Mike, and I couldn’t wait to catch up with them. I’d been a bit apprehensive about what it would be like to actually see them together for the first time. But now I realized as I waved back that I was OK. Everyone deserved to be happy, everyone deserved a special someone.

‘What is this music?’ I whispered, gruffly to Lizzie. ‘It’s breaking my heart!’

She tapped the order of service and I followed her finger.

‘“A Dream Is A Wish Your Heart Makes” from
Cinderella
,’ I read. Blimey, how lovely was that!

Gemma appeared next, looking stunning in cappuccino lace. ‘OMG! Fairytale dot com!’ she squeaked as she smiled and waved her way up the aisle.

‘I want to get married here,’ I heard Lizzie whisper to Ross.

I sniggered softly to myself. So much for the subtle hints.

The vicar, a middle-aged lady with short grey hair, chunky black glasses and pillar-box-red lipstick, welcomed everyone to the Lake District and launched into the service. Before long we’d reached the important bit.

‘And now, Tilly and Aidan, I invite you to make your solemn vows to each other,’ announced the vicar.

She took a step backwards towards the altar and Aidan and Tilly turned to face each other, both grinning wildly.

The silence was deafening as Aidan took Tilly’s hands in his and spoke straight from the heart.

‘I, Aidan, am honoured to take you, Tilly, to be my wife. From the moment I first saw you, you captured my heart. Your beauty, your soul and your loving heart fill me with joy and inspire me to be the best that I can be. This day, before our friends and family, I give you all that I am, all that I have. I promise to love you and cherish you for the rest of our lives. And that is my solemn vow.’

Even from the back of the church I could see the tears sparkling in Tilly’s eyes. She took a few deep breaths and then gazed at him adoringly.

‘I, Tilly, take you, my darling Aidan, to be my husband. Because of you I love, I laugh, I dream again. You are my silver lining, the sunshine in my day, and the bright stars in my sky. In this new journey of marriage, I promise to be beside you every step of the way. Your dreams are mine and I will love you for eternity. And that is my solemn vow.’

Not a single dry eye in the house.

‘Tissue?’ asked Lizzie, handing me the packet.

‘Thanks,’ I gulped.

Tilly and Aidan were declared husband and wife and, to rapturous applause, he not only kissed her but swung her round in the air. Impossible not to cry, absolutely impossible.

The service seemed to be over in a flash. Suddenly the church bells were ringing again and Aidan and Tilly, arms around each other’s waists, were waving and blowing kisses as they skipped back down the aisle.

My next job was to get back to the farm and get the mulled wine and hot fruit punch ready for when the bridal party arrived.

As soon as I could, I zigzagged my way through the crowd and out of the church. It was snowing lightly and the cold air made me shiver as it touched my skin. My stomach flipped with happiness; this had to be the most romantic setting for a wedding ever. I ran down the path to where I knew the horse and carriage would be waiting with the driver.

And there he was. Harry. My poor heart skipped a beat. Dressed appropriately for the occasion in a tweed jacket, collarless shirt, braces and moleskin trousers, he looked amazing. His eyes widened when he saw me and he jumped down from the carriage and dropped a kiss on my cheek.

I’d persuaded him to let us repaint his sister’s old carriage white and my mum had recovered the seat in red velvet. It was on permanent loan to us for all future weddings. I’d also twisted his arm into being chauffeur for the day.

‘Hey,’ I said, unable to keep the pleasure at seeing him out of my voice. ‘Don’t you look the part!’

‘What of – village idiot?’ He rolled his eyes. ‘You didn’t tell me that I’d have to dress up.’

‘Sorry, did I forget to mention that?’ I said, feigning innocence.

‘I’m only joking.’ He grinned. ‘Mind you, I’m glad I put my dad’s old thermal underwear on.’

‘Don’t blame you,’ I said, trying to bat away the mental image of Harry in his undies. I wrapped my arms round myself. ‘I could do with some extra warmth myself.’

‘You look beautiful, Freya, almost as radiant as the bride.’

‘Me? Get away.’ I pressed a hand surreptitiously to my face in case by ‘radiant’ he actually meant red.

I’d opted for a long-sleeved vintage tea dress printed with tiny green flowers and teamed it with an emerald green wool coat and tan leather boots – dressy but practical enough for me to run around organizing things in.

‘I’m delighted with the carriage. Thanks so much, Harry.’

Lizzie and I had spent a good part of yesterday decorating it. We’d used miles of white satin ribbon, millions of ivy fronds, hundreds of sprigs of mistletoe plundered from the orchard and piled some thick woollen blankets into the carriage for the happy couple to snuggle under on the journey to the farm. Even if I said so myself, it looked stunning.

‘Glad to help,’ he said softly.

His eyes locked on to mine so intensely that my heart suddenly felt too big for my chest and then for some inexplicable reason we edged closer to each other.

Harry swallowed and rubbed at his sexily chiselled jaw. ‘Freya …’ he began tentatively.

‘Yes,’ I answered breathily. Oh my God, this was it. This. Was. It.

He reached out and brushed the snowflakes from my cheek and my stomach quivered at his touch. ‘Do you think—’

‘Freya,’ called Tilly, from the church steps, ‘come on, we want you in some photos, too!’

Now? Seriously?
I could have sobbed with frustration.

‘Coming,’ I called, waving to her. I turned back to Harry. ‘You were saying?’ I said, trying to keep the urgency out of my voice. ‘Harry?’

‘It can wait.’

‘No, it can’t,’ I said petulantly, barely resisting the temptation to stamp my feet.

He threw back his head and laughed. ‘Go,’ he said, twisting my shoulders and giving me a gentle nudge. ‘We’ve got all the time in the world to talk.’

I stumbled backwards towards the church path. ‘Have we?’

He lifted one shoulder lazily. ‘Of course.’

My legs were trembling as I raced to take my place in the wedding photo line-up. Harry caught my eye and winked. What was all that about? Lizzie was right about him, he was
so
tiramisu.

The wedding guests had arrived back at Appleby Farm and were sipping mulled wine by the time Harry guided Storm and Skye and the fairytale carriage into the yard. Tilly and Aidan, wrapped around each other, blankets heaped over them, looked deliriously happy, if a little red-nosed. The snow had stopped and a light dusting remained – the fields, trees, rooftops and even the farmyard looked as if they had been sprinkled with confetti by Mother Nature for the occasion.

‘Freya!’ Tilly waved as Aidan helped her down from the carriage.

I skipped forwards and gave them both a hug. ‘Congratulations, Mr and Mrs Whitby.’

Harry climbed down and shot me a cheeky grin before being instantly besieged by Aidan’s niece and nephew who wanted to sit in the carriage. I watched out of the corner of my eye as he let them hold the reins and stroke the horses. He was so patient with them that my heart melted.

‘Remember how we met?’ Tilly grinned. ‘In the café last winter and you came to my Ivy Lane Great Cake Competition?’

I laughed. ‘My baking has improved since then, you’ll be glad to know.’

Aidan meandered off to have a word with his best man, who was cackling with laughter at something Gemma was saying. Tilly looped her arm through mine.

‘Look how far we’ve come in one year,’ she exclaimed, planting a kiss on my cheek. ‘Who’d have guessed then that this would be where we’d be now! Me getting married and you organizing the wedding!’

‘I’m chuffed to bits for you, Tilly. Aidan will make the perfect husband. Now, you’d better go: I think you’re wanted,’ I said, releasing her arm.

Uncle Arthur had appeared, accompanied by the gentle clanging of cowbells as he led Gloria, the Jersey cow and her calf, Kim, dressed up in white ribbons and new bells around their necks (that had been a job and a half before breakfast, believe me!), into the yard. Everyone, including our official photographer Natalie, Bill’s daughter, lifted their cameras in readiness for some vintage farm photographs.

Harry touched my arm lightly. ‘I’ll leave the carriage here, I think, for the kids to play in. What do you think?’

‘Good idea.’ I smiled up at him and let out a deep breath. ‘Is it going OK, do you think? I’m so nervous something is going to go wrong any second.’

He grinned. ‘You’re a born organizer, Freya. Always were. The rest of The Almanacs will arrive about seven, the caterers are already doing a fantastic job if the smell of roast beef is anything to go by and Natalie is taking pictures like they’re going out of fashion. Nothing will go wrong.’

He pressed a swift kiss into my hair and I blushed at the tenderness of his gesture.

‘Thanks, Harry.’ I sighed, feeling my shoulders relax. ‘Um. What was it you wanted to say earlier?’

‘Er …’ His voice faded away as Charlie and Anna joined us, arms entwined.

‘You’ve done a great job, you two,’ said Charlie, shaking Harry’s hand and kissing my cheek chastely. ‘The tea rooms, the wedding business … the place is unrecognizable.’