Chapter 38
Climbing Rose Cottage, St Aidan, Cornwall
Backwards in high heels
Sunday
When I told the kids that I was too busy for dates, it was a fast excuse to avoid being pushed into a husband search.
In fact, there are a mass of shop appointments, and another four wedding photos to add to our pin board before we find a spare hour when the kids are home too for my afternoon tea with Lando.
But sure enough, on Sunday afternoon the next weekend, Lando appears at the garden gate dead on four o’clock to be greeted by six shrieking children, because whenever the older ones scream, the three little ones dash across and join in.
Lando presents them with bags of fun-sized sweets, which buys him time to say hello to my mum, and when I reach the courtyard I can tell he’s made an effort to get rid of his usual creases. He also smells delectable.
‘Nice kit, Lando. Is that Mont Blanc Explorer again?’
He laughs. ‘Martha’s wearing Bleu de Chanel today.’ There’s a moment’s hesitation. ‘I brought her with me. I hope that’s okay?’
When I think of unbuttoning his freshly laundered white shirt, my knees go weak, but at least I can’t see any rips in his jeans. Him hanging back has to be a sign of how uncomfortable he is with this, because when did Lando ever not burst with confidence?
‘You’re looking pretty stunning yourself.’
I laugh. ‘Styled by the kids. Who knew there was so much electric pink tulle in one dressing-up box, and I still end up with a ra-ra skirt that barely covers my bum.’
Letting them put me in a wild and inappropriate outfit is my subtle way of downgrading the status of the event. There’s no danger of me or the date being taken seriously when I’m only covered in some teensy scraps of net.
Lando’s laugh is low. ‘I like you in miniskirts.’
I can’t hold back my smile because men are so obvious. ‘Then they insisted on neon fuchsia lips and stilettos to make me look kissable!’ I lower my voice. ‘I appreciate their help, but they make Jess seem like a lightweight! I feel like an extra off the Barbie set.’
He laughs again. ‘Are you going to kiss me and call me Ken?’
I ignore him and get back to the job in hand. Turning to Nemmie and Zara lingering in the doorway, I ask, ‘Are you ready for us to go up to the garden?’
They nod and hang on to the dogs’ collars. ‘We’ll keep Angel and Martha down here for now. Enjoy your date, we’ll be up to check on you soon.’
Lando looks at the flight of steps then back to my shimmery toes. ‘Would you like me to carry you up?’
I take the steps two at a time and I’m already looking down on him from the top. ‘All good, thanks! Don’t take too long or I may demolish the tea before you get here.’
A second later he’s by my side, and I’m wishing I’d turned away before I saw his easy athletic bounds.
We pass Mum’s rambling roses dripping with blooms and then the table comes into view covered with a net curtain.
Lando pulls out one of my nan’s old folding garden chairs for me and smiles. ‘Someone’s been busy!’
I ease myself back against pink gingham cushions from Mum’s bedroom, then my heart swells as I notice the flower petals scattered across the tabletop and the jam jar of dandelions and seagull feathers.
When I get to the ice bucket and Mum’s best plastic picnic flutes there’s actually a lump in my throat.
‘They’ve even bought us pink alcohol-free Freixenet! ’
Lando nods and his garden chair gives a creak as he pulls out his phone. ‘At the risk of sounding like a millennial, we should definitely do a selfie first.’
I leap to my feet and join him on the other side of the table. ‘Make sure you get everything in. They’ve even written “gud luck, Maevey” and drawn hearts and arrows on my paper plate!’
Lando laughs. ‘Mine says “hapy furst date, mate”.’
I’m soaking it all in, and as we put our heads together for the photos, I slow my breaths to keep my heart rate steady. Then Lando opens the bottle, and as I sit down again he hands me a glass of fizz.
He leans back in his chair and raises his own. ‘Good luck with your quest to find a soulmate, Maevey Wavey. Choose anyone you like, so long as it’s me!’
I’m staring at him and wracking my brain for a snappy response when there’s another louder creak, then a crack, and as his glass sinks downwards his face slides out of sight beyond the table edge.
By the time I dash round to see what’s happening, his arms are spread wide on the grass with the chair flattened underneath him. ‘Lando, I’m so sorry! Those chairs from the nineteen sixties are not built for guys who work out.’
He gets to his feet, props the pieces of broken chair against the wall, and I hand him another. ‘Try this; it’s less floral, but it’s newer and made of wood. And well done for your graceful landing and not spilling a drop of fizz!’
He rolls his eyes as he settles into his new seat. ‘I can’t decide if me crushing your vintage chair to destruction two minutes into the date is a disastrous start or a fabulous ice-breaker?’
‘It made me pleased it’s you on the date rather than anyone else.’
‘And you didn’t feel that before?’ He laughs. ‘When you’ve known me forever, at least we skip that awful part where we feel uncomfortable.’
He’s obviously speaking for himself there. For me, looking across to Lando and knowing his whole attention is on me is excruciating.
I push the loaded plate towards him. ‘Help yourself to scones! As a Cornishman, you have your jam first and then your cream?’ I slice my own scone and dig into the cream. ‘I’m going to be a rebel and do it the other way.’
‘I’d be disappointed if you did anything else.’ As Lando’s phone pings, he glances at it. ‘That’s your mum, reminding us the kids have done us a lucky dip of first date questions. They’re in the empty plant pot.’
I take a bite of scone and groan. ‘They aren’t making this easy, are they?’
Lando narrows his eyes. ‘It depends what the questions are.’ He dips into the pot, unfolds the first scrap of paper and grins. ‘Which peanut butter do you like best?’
‘Easy. I used to love crunchy, now I prefer smooth. How about you?’
He nods. ‘Definitely smooth.’ His smile widens. ‘So we passed the first one.’
He pushes the pot towards me, and I unfold the next. ‘Dogs or cats?’ I stop to think. ‘Dogs, but I’d love a houseful of cats with the dogs – if I ever got a house of my own, which I never plan to, but whatever.’
Lando nods. ‘I shared my bed with a Norwegian Forest cat called Pax as a toddler. I’d happily add in one of those again, so long as Martha didn’t mind.’
I give him a hard stare. ‘So you’re going to give in and adopt her?’
He frowns for a second, then he grins again. ‘She and Angel get on well.’
My chest contracts. ‘If you’ve mentally moved in with us already, this is never going to work.’
He rolls his eyes. ‘I was thinking more that I could use your dog-walking services to cover times I couldn’t take Martha to work with me.’
I’m kicking myself for that. Damn. Of course. ‘Good thinking, not a problem.’
He’s definitely biting back his laughter, but there’s nothing I can do so I push the pot towards him again.
He picks out the next question and smiles. ‘Best jelly? Has to be strawberry with fresh fruit chunks and Bolly’—he takes in my one raised eyebrow—‘although I’m sure Prosecco would work just as well as champers.’
I’m already dipping for the next. ‘Favourite Smartie colour?’ I’m smiling at how cute the questions are.
‘As kids Sav wouldn’t touch the yellow ones or the brown ones, but that meant there was all the more for me!
Left to myself I eat the dark brown ones first, because I like to leave the colourful ones. ’
Lando grins. ‘It’s a deal. You have those, I’ll have the rest.’ He goes in again. ‘What’s your best achievement at work?’
I laugh. ‘When I first started at the bingo hall, all the regulars used to give me such a hard time when I called out the numbers. My proudest moment was when I went back after having Nemmie, and they all cheered because they were pleased to see me again.’
Lando nods at me. ‘Did you work there a long time?’
I nod. ‘I started as a stop-gap after uni, and the evening shifts fitted in so well with the childcare once Nemmie arrived, I carried on. They were such a community of characters, with so much love and heart, they were like a second family. It’s funny to think that if it hadn’t closed down, I’d still be there. ’
Lando laughs. ‘As you explained to me the other week, it’s a dangerous game thinking about “what ifs”.
Like if you hadn’t run around St Aidan in a wedding dress, the kids would never have thought about finding you a husband.
’ He frowns at his empty plate. ‘I’d hate to have missed out on these awesome scones. ’
I push more towards him. ‘Don’t stop at three, have some more while you’re telling me about your job.’ I still don’t properly know what Lando does when he’s not directing brides and grooms around the beach.
While he concentrates on spreading his jam and cream, his expression is so like Nemmie’s.
Then he looks up, takes another bite, and licks a slick of cream off his finger.
If I’m inhaling jam and cream and thinking it feels delicious having him in the garden, I have to be getting my sensory responses mixed up.
He shuffles in his seat. ‘I avoid talking about work because I hate to bore people, but I work with conservation projects. There are lots of programs looking for cash, and lots of entrepreneurs and companies willing to put money into worthwhile schemes. I simply find the best matches and bring them together.’
I laugh. ‘So you’re like eHarmony for the conservation world?’
He looks at the clouds. ‘It’s slightly more complex than that. But yes.’
‘You can say another sentence without me falling asleep.’ I scour his face and think of what else I can ask. ‘Don’t you miss being hands-on in the wild?’