Chapter TWENTY-SIX
The following morning, I was up very early, making sure the floral displays in various parts of the house were looking their very best.
I’d given myself a talking to the night before, when I couldn’t get to sleep.
Falling for Mark all over again was quite clearly a fool’s errand.
I’d no real idea how he felt about me, and having listened to Joyce’s story the previous day about her sister, Ettie, imagining (falsely) that she and Mick were soulmates, I’d decided it was much too dangerous to speculate. And in any case, he was flying back to New Zealand in five days’
time, so what would be the point in rekindling anything, even if Mark wanted to?
There was also Fiona.
They’d looked very cosy, the pair of them, walking off to the kitchen together the night before. How long had they lingered there after I’d gone to bed, talking over their life together – the happy times – and perhaps doing some rekindling of their own?
No doubt they would have made plans to meet up after the wedding, to make the most of Mark’s time with his family while he was over here. And I certainly didn’t want to encroach on precious time with his new granddaughter.
No, it was much better this way.
It would be professionalism all the way and I wouldn’t be distracted by a certain wedding photographer in the slightest.
In fact, I’d probably be too busy to even notice him . . .
*****
By nine, we were all gathered around the grand dining table enjoying eggs and bacon with glasses of chilled Buck’s Fizz, and delicious pastries fresh from the oven – served by Evelyn, helped in Joyce’s absence by Fen and Primrose.
(Everyone had been told that Joyce was unwell and had gone home.)
Luckily, Mark and Fiona were already there when I arrived, so I’d been able to take a seat on the same side of the long table but at the other end.
This meant I didn’t have either of them in my view, which was making for a more relaxing meal.
Only Mick and Sylvia hadn’t yet joined the breakfast party and we were all wondering if the wedding would go ahead.
The atmosphere in the dining room was subdued.
I guessed we were all still a little shell-shocked after the exhausting events of the night before, with Maddy remarking that it had certainly been a Hallowe’en to remember!
Evelyn and Primrose were coming round refreshing the teas and coffees, when the door opened and Mick came in.
Everyone welcomed him cheerfully and he grinned broadly and asked if there was room at the table for a small one! Evelyn pulled out a chair for him and fussed around, making sure he had coffee and asking him if he’d like tomatoes with his bacon and eggs.
‘I’m sure I saw a tin in the cupboard, and I could fry some mushrooms in butter for you as well if you like,’
she offered.
‘It is your special day, after all.’
Mick smiled.
‘Don’t worry, Evelyn. You’ve got enough to do. I’ll have what they’re having, to quote Billy Crystal.’
‘Are you sure?’
‘I’m sure. But thank you, my dear. For everything.’
He reached for her hand and gave it a squeeze.
They beamed at each other and Evelyn looked flushed with pleasure as she carried out a tray of used crockery. She was definitely one of life’s natural carers, I decided, feeling a surge of affection towards her.
Joyce had also cared deeply – for her beloved sister. It was probably a kind of madness-in-grief that had made her act the way she did. I was sure she genuinely regretted the things she’d done. It would be up to Sylvia and Mick, of course, if they wanted to get the police involved.
Mick had left Sylvia still sleeping. But five minutes after he joined us, the door opened again and there was the bride-to-be, wrapped in her dressing gown. She looked a little tired but she was smiling, and there were roses in her cheeks that definitely hadn’t been there the day before.
After another hearty welcome, she sat down next to Mick and managed to drink some coffee and eat some scrambled eggs, prepared by Evelyn.
‘So is it going ahead? The wedding?’
Maddy eventually asked the question to which we all were eager for an answer.
Sylvia looked at her in surprise.
‘Of course it is. You don’t think I would have dragged myself out of that beautifully soft, cosy bed if I didn’t have something extremely important to get ready for today?’
She gazed lovingly at Mick. Then she glanced at her watch.
‘Ooh, in precisely two hours and forty minutes, so I’d better get a move on. Sarah Frobisher has very kindly offered to lend me one of her beautiful dresses.’
‘Yes, and after you’ve relaxed in a lovely bubble bath,’
smiled Primrose.
‘I’ll be doing your hair and make-up.’
‘Thank you, my love. That will be wonderful.’
‘Hey, what about my hair and make-up?’
protested Mick, and everyone laughed.
*****
When people talked about there not being a dry eye in the house, I’d always assumed they were exaggerating.
But on the evidence of the number of hankies I observed being put to good use as Sylvia walked down the aisle to join her husband-to-be, I was forced to rethink that assumption!
The flood water had thankfully receded enough to allow the hired transport bringing the wedding guests to get through. There had been excited reunions as the menfolk whose partners had been at the hen party got off the coach – Rob, Jack, and Bertha’s husband, Ron – along with Sylvia’s friends from the WI and Mick’s old bowling club pals. Some of the guests with children had driven over – Zak with Maisie and baby Isla in her car seat, Liam with the twins, and Primrose’s partner Sam with their little boy, George, who had a very special part to play in the day’s proceedings!
Jaz had been unable to attend the Hallowe’en hen party because little daughter Emma had unfortunately been sick all over her just as she’d been preparing to leave.
Jaz was beaming now as she emerged from the car with Emma and partner Milo, and Milo’s little girl Mabel.
‘I was so worried we weren’t going to make it because of Emma,’
she said, rushing over to hug Sylvia, who I’d been chatting to in the doorway.
‘But look at her now!’
Emma and Mabel were racing around the lawn, whooping with delight, apparently playing a game of chase – and probably getting soaked to the skin in the process because the lawn now resembled a shallow swimming pool. But at least the rain had stopped now. There was even the odd patch of blue in the sky this morning, which was quite an amazing contrast to the day before . . .
I laughed at their antics as Mabel suddenly changed direction, making Emma squeal with laughter.
‘Isn’t it amazing how quickly kids recover? Down one minute and running around the next. I wish I could syphon off some of their energy!’
‘Oh, I know. Annalise and Jensen are running late, by the way,’
Jaz told Sylvia.
‘but they’ve promised to be here by twelve for the ceremony.’
Sylvia nodded.
‘Good. I need to thank Annalise for the gorgeous caramel apple pies she made for me. I didn’t eat all day yesterday and then at three this morning, I woke up with a craving for something sweet, so I sneaked down to the kitchen and warmed a pie up in the microwave and honestly, it was the best thing I’ve eaten in a long time. It was so cosy in the kitchen with that lovely fire still burning.’
She grinned.
‘Mick slept through the whole thing. The poor man was exhausted after the events of yesterday.’
Jaz nodded.
‘Fen phoned me and told me all about it. I’m just so delighted that you’re feeling well again.’
‘Oh, I am. Fighting fit. But don’t tell Mick I went walkabout during the night when I was under doctor’s orders to rest in bed.’
‘We won’t,’
promised Jaz.
‘You can rest just as easily on the sofa by a lovely fire,’
I pointed out, remembering how much I’d adored sitting there with Mark the night before . . .
‘You can indeed,’
smiled Sylvia, as Milo joined us.
‘Now, come in and make yourselves at home.’
She peered over at Mabel and Emma.
‘There’s clean towels in the airing cupboard if those two scamps need a dry-off!’
she joked.
‘And if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to finish getting ready now.’
She looked at her watch and gasped.
‘Forty minutes to go! I’m having such a lovely time chatting to everyone, I’d quite forgotten I need to change into a dress. I must grab Primrose. She’s helping her old gran to get ready.’
She hurried inside in search of her granddaughter, and watching her go, Jaz and I exchanged an admiring glance.
‘I hope I’m as energetic as Sylvia is when I get to her age,’
I said with a fond smile.
‘I’d like to be that energetic now!’
joked Jaz. She looked around.
‘Is Caleb here? I thought Katja might have changed her mind and invited him, after all.’
I shook my head.
‘She seems to think taking it slowly is the best way.’
Jaz shrugged.
‘Maybe she’s right. Every relationship is different, I suppose.’
We went inside and joined the guests enjoying a welcome glass of champagne as they stood and chatted in the hall. I kept my eye on Mark, not meaning to but unable to help myself. He and Fiona were taking photos of individual guests now, as well as small groups of family and friends. I wouldn’t get much of a chance to chat to him while he was in business mode, and I felt quite sad about that. Our time together was running out too fast, like sand pouring through an egg-timer.
At last, the hands on the grandfather clock ticked to twelve o’clock.
Mick came down the staircase with best man Rob, both looking super-smart in dark suits, waistcoats and pale green cravats, and I was relieved to see that their buttonholes looked perfect. There wasn’t even a nod to Hallowe’en in their outfits today. Mick had clearly decided he’d had quite enough of scary season for one year, after everything that had happened the evening before!
We all took our seats on either side of the aisle, Mick and Rob joining Sarah Frobisher, the celebrant, at the altar.
I was pleased with the decorations running along the aisle. It was quite a dark room, so I’d gone with fat church candles in tall glass holders, lining the aisle on both sides. Candlelight flickered softly on the big, bold arrangements of faux blooms – in dark red, purple and cream – which also lined the aisle. I was especially pleased with the decorative archway at the end of the aisle, which I’d covered with autumn foliage as well as more of the blooms.
Music began playing and everyone stopped talking and looked around, waiting for Sylvia to appear.
Mark, standing at the back with his camera, caught my eye and gave me such a warm smile, I felt my heart expand with joy. I was going to miss him so much when he left for New Zealand . . .
And then the bride was here and walking down the aisle in a beautiful maroon silk dress that showed off her very slim figure. I was highly relieved to find that the bouquet I’d fashioned for her actually toned in with this lovely new dress she’d borrowed from Sarah Frobisher.
When Sylvia and Mick met and said their vows to each other, I knew a lot of people would be very emotional, myself included. With Mick’s heart problems, friends and family on both sides had worried if they would ever see this day.
But here we were.
I was well prepared and had a hanky at the ready – and I was using it already and the ceremony had barely started!
When it came to who had the rings, there was a slight commotion at the back of the room, and we all turned to find little George – Sylvia and Mick’s grandson – running along the aisle, holding his mum’s hand and carrying a bag with dinosaurs printed on it in the other hand.
To a chorus of aaahs and a little gentle direction from Primrose, George presented the bag to Sarah Frobisher who, smiling broadly, said.
‘Thank you very much, young man!’
and took out the rings.
‘He’ll be wanting my job next,’
she joked, and everyone laughed.
And then finally, Sylvia and Mick said ‘I do’
and everyone clapped!
They looked so happy, walking back down the aisle together. Mick rubbed his hands together and said gleefully.
‘Right, let’s get this party started!’
The tea dance was being held in the drawing room, which was a much larger space, and we all entered to find the band tuning up and the tables around the perimeter of the dance floor each laid with crockery, cutlery and an impressive floral-patterned three-tiered cake stand full of goodies.
I was pleased to find that Mark, even though he was busy taking photos, made a point of coming over to me and bagging two seats at my table for him and Fiona.
I was hungry by then, and my stomach was rumbling at the sight of the delicious-looking cakes and scones and Hallowe’en biscuits, baked by the Little Duck Pond Café team. Luckily I didn’t have long to wait before Mark and Fiona came over to join me, at which point we all tucked in with gusto.
Rob made an excellent best man when it came time for the speeches.
‘It’s been an emotional day,’
he began, smiling down at Mick and Sylvia.
‘Even the cake is in tiers!’
Everyone laughed and that set the tone for the rest of his speech, which was funny and moving in equal measure.
After the speeches, the big band sound had us all tapping our feet, and when Mark asked me if I’d dance a slow waltz with him, I stood up with him on legs that were shaking. And although I was worried that I might not be any good, it turned out that I melted into his arms so naturally that it actually wouldn’t have mattered if I’d forgotten all the steps. Just swaying there with Mark smiling into my eyes would have been perfection as far as I was concerned, and I had a feeling he felt the same. (Thankfully, though, I did actually remember how to waltz!)
At one point, between dances, waiting for another tune to begin, we were standing next to Sylvia and Mick, and we heard Sylvia say.
‘You wanted our wedding to be different, old man. You certainly got your wish!’
And we laughed along with them, all of us relieved that last night was a thing of the past and now we could look to the future . . .
‘I meant it about the nightcap,’
said Mark, when we were in hold again and dancing to Three Times a Lady.
‘The rain check?’
My heart hammering, I looked up at him, puzzled, as if I’d quite forgotten what he meant. Then I smiled and said.
‘Oh, yes. It would be lovely to catch up before you go back to New Zealand.’
But the song had finished and we’d walked off the dance floor and nothing more was said about it.
I was still unsure about getting in deeper with Mark, but I couldn’t help imagining, what if?
What would it be like if we really did have that nightcap together?
But I knew it couldn’t happen.
I’d spent years getting over Mark and I’d reached a place where I felt happy with my life. It wasn’t how I’d imagined and hoped it would be, but I had work I enjoyed and no worries at all, really. And I’d grown used to my own company. Sharing my space with someone else wouldn’t be easy. And what if it didn’t work out between us? (How could it? He lived thousands of miles away!) I’d be left feeling abandoned and devastated all over again.
No, sadly it was far better to remain as detached as possible, then wave him goodbye and get on with my life here, just as before.
I was determined to ignore the annoying little voice in my ear that was taunting me.
Your life can never get back to the way it was, though, can it? Not now you’ve realised you’re still in love with him!
Feeling suddenly out of sorts, I excused myself and went out into the hall where everyone was gathering around a table set up there by Maddy.
‘What’s happening?’
I asked Fen.
She grinned.
‘No Dracula parrots flying around, thank goodness.’
‘Sorry?’
I smiled at her, confused.
‘That’s what she said she was going to do, to match the Hallowe’en theme,’
she explained.
‘Thankfully it’s something a little tamer than that.’
‘Right.’
I looked at the empty champagne bottle with its big red bow on the table. Everyone seemed to be writing notes on sheets of rose-decorated writing paper.
‘Message in a bottle,’
said Maddy.
‘We’re writing notes for Sylvia and Mick to read on their first wedding anniversary and popping them into the bottle there.’
‘Oh, how charming! What a fabulous idea. Better than the parrots flying around, I think.’
‘Yes. Parrot poop can be a bugger to wash out of your hair,’
commented Mark, who must have followed me out.
‘This is much more romantic.’
Maddy laughed.
‘Fair play. By the way, if you’d like still more romance, Sylvia’s showing a video of hers and Mick’s romance. Photos and home-movies . . . that kind of thing. She’s setting up in the morning room.’
‘Okay.’
Mark looked at me, as if to say, want to go and watch it?
I was hardly going to be rude and say no, thanks. But we had to write our own messages to the bride and groom first. And also, there was a question I wanted to ask Maddy. About the washing machine.
‘Maddy, we were wondering if the vibrations from the washing machine might have caused the painting of Lady Annabel to fall of the wall? I remembered you saying it was spinning when we were searching the house after hearing the screams and you were in the kitchen?’
She thought about this.
‘I suppose it might have been the vibrations,’
she replied doubtfully.
‘The thing is, we wondered if someone set the machine off deliberately, to somehow make it happen? It was empty when we looked later, which I thought was suspicious.’
‘Oh, no. No, Mick’s clothes were in there. He goes out for a long walk every day, even in the rain, and he came back really muddy, so Sylvia just bundled all his clothes in the machine and set it off. And then later, when the lights went back on, I went back and emptied the machine. The clothes are hanging on an airer in a cupboard off the kitchen.’
‘Ah, right.’
I glanced at Mark and he nodded. The mystery of how the painting fell off the wall was still a mystery, then . . .
I went with him to the morning room, sighing inwardly as my traitorous heart beat frantically against my ribcage at his nearness.
A big screen had been set up in there and the guests were already gathering to watch the show, so we took seats in the back row. Then Mark turned to me and said.
‘Celia, do you believe me that there’s nothing romantic between Fiona and me?’
Taken by surprise, I gave a shrug.
‘Yes. Why wouldn’t I? You said so, didn’t you?’
He studied me with a sigh.
‘That didn’t exactly answer my question. Do you believe me? Because I have a feeling you don’t.’
‘What makes you think that?’
‘Well, it was the way you turned so cool on me at the engagement party, after we had such a great time just a few days earlier.’
He shrugged.
‘I had a great time, anyway.’
I paused for a moment.
‘So did I,’
I admitted at last.
‘So why the change?’
I swallowed.
‘Because . . . well, because I saw you and Fiona together. She kissed you, and it didn’t look like just a friends’
embrace. It looked . . . romantic.’
He was frowning, clearly trying to remember what I was talking about.
I hesitated, thinking about the necklace I saw him placing round her neck, gently lifting her hair to fasten it. That gesture alone, I realised, had sent me running away from him, scared of getting hurt all over again . . .
But just as I opened my mouth to tell him about it, Sylvia announced that she was about to start the video, and everyone quietened down to watch.
There was a series of black and white photos of Mick’s childhood days, followed by some grainy film of Sylvia smiling and holding an ice-cream on a windy beach. She looked about seven. Then came photos of Sylvia standing outside the Little Duck Pond Café, and some of Mick, in his sixties now, working in the garden. And then there was a whole stream of photos of the pair together, culminating in film footage of them at some kind of party.
I suddenly spotted myself. And Mark and Fiona.
‘Oh, it’s their engagement party!’
‘Yup. Do I really look like that?’ he joked.
‘I’m afraid you do.’
It was fascinating seeing myself on that big screen, and not entirely a pleasant experience. I looked older than I realised with my severe haircut. Perhaps I’d experiment a bit . . . maybe grow it a little longer and have the hairdresser cut in layers and shape it around my face.
Suddenly, I sat up straighter. The camera was focused on Mick, who was extolling Sylvia’s virtues, perhaps helped along by the champagne we’d all been drinking, but I could see Mark and Fiona in the background. It was the scene I’d been about to describe to Mark. The necklace.
I glanced at him to see what he was thinking, and sure enough, he was frowning and leaning forward a little, staring hard at the screen.
And then I saw something I hadn’t seen, mainly because I’d been in the process of storming out. There I was, in the background of the film, heading for the door, a pinched look on my face having just witnessed the necklace moment. But as I left, Mark and Fiona were laughing, and he was removing the necklace and placing it in a dark-coloured box that he’d drawn out of his jacket pocket. Then he was racing after me, stuffing the box back in his pocket. But in his haste, it fell out, and he had to scoop it up before catching up with me . . .
‘That necklace wasn’t for Fiona,’
Mark murmured, and when I turned, he was gazing at me so intently, my heart skipped a beat.
‘It wasn’t? But it looked so . . . romantic. The way you were putting it round her neck and fastening it.’
He smiled sheepishly.
‘She told me to practise fastening it because she knows how fumble-fingered I can be with fiddly tasks like that. And I wanted to get it right.’
I stared at him, puzzled.
‘Get what right?’
‘Well . . . fastening the necklace around your neck. I was convinced I’d muck it up and get your hair tangled in the catch, so we were just hamming it up, pretending we were lovers and I was presenting her with some jewels.’
I stared at him wordlessly.
‘Which is why she kissed me. We were just being daft. I was nervous as hell, having bought it for you and desperately hoping you’d like it.’
‘I didn’t know,’
I said faintly.
He smiled ruefully.
‘You didn’t stay long enough to notice the necklace is a string of aquamarine gemstones, to match the pale blue dress you bought for the party, that day we spent together.’
‘You bought me a gift?’
My head was still in a whirl after realising I’d got it all wrong.
‘I did. I went shopping with my daughter specially and she helped me choose it, otherwise I wouldn’t have had a clue. And I’ve brought the necklace with me . . . on the off-chance I might be able to persuade you to spend some time with me before I have to go back to New Zealand.’
‘Oh.’
I was rarely speechless. My TV work had given me a fabulous grounding in filling in empty pauses, chatting about nothing in particular. But for once in my life, I was completely stumped.
‘Would you like to see the necklace?’ he asked.
I swallowed.
‘I’d love to.’
We exchanged a smile that sent a quiver of longing through me. The necklace had been meant for me all along!
When he took my hand, the shock was electric, sending delicious pulses of desire through my whole body.
‘Shall I bring it down?’ he asked.
But I shook my head.
‘You haven’t changed your mind again, have you?’
he asked, a tense look in his eyes, and I realised he was only half-joking.
‘No,’
I replied softly.
‘But I think I’d like to be somewhere . . . private . . . when you put the necklace on me.’
‘Nice idea,’
he murmured.
‘Well, I’ll want to thank you. Obviously. And I can’t possibly kiss you the way I really want to kiss you, if we’re still sitting here.’
‘You wouldn’t want to shock the other wedding guests.’
He nodded solemnly. ‘I agree.’
Then his face broke into a wicked smile and a light danced in those gorgeous blue eyes.
And my emotions were having a field day, making me fizz inside and long to be alone with Mark so that we could finally be completely honest with each other about how we really felt.
He stood up and held out his hand.
And I took it, and together we walked up the grand staircase to his bedroom.
And I began thanking him for my very special gift even before I’d received it, so that almost an hour had passed before we finally remembered the necklace.
He brought it out of its box and he held it up, and I marvelled at the way the light from the window was making the aquamarine gemstones shine.
We smiled into each other’s eyes and then he gently pulled back my hair and fastened the necklace, and I shivered deliciously at the touch of his fingers.
I went to the mirror to see how it looked.
‘Beautiful,’
Mark said, standing behind me. And I blushed because I knew he wasn’t just talking about his gift to me.
When I met his eyes in the mirror, a look of love and deep understanding passed between us. I touched the necklace and smiled.
It was perfect.