Chapter Ten #2
‘And yet, despite your years of managing stock, you didn’t realize quite how time-consuming it would be making them all,’ May said, an amused gleam in her eyes.
‘Not true,’ Sophie shot back. ‘I knew exactly how long it would take to make them, I just didn’t realize that everyone we asked would want to come, and that a lot of Mistingham residents would invite themselves, too.’
‘Really?’ Imogen said with a laugh.
‘Even people I don’t know.’ Sophie leaned towards her conspiratorially. ‘They all claim they knew Harry “back in the day”, but I’m not sure if that’s true, or if they just want to come for the knees-up. Neither of us mind—’
‘Words that wouldn’t have been uttered a year ago, before Harry got to know you,’ May cut in.
‘But now I’m wondering how many people will turn up on the day. How many extra notebooks do I need to make? I’m not worried about the catering because there’s always too much, but notebooks?’ She shook her head. ‘It’s a minefield.’
‘If you run out, you’ll just have to do IOUs,’ May said. ‘Or tell them they’re lucky to be allowed at the wedding when they’ve not been invited, and don’t run yourself ragged.’
Sophie turned to her friend. ‘You don’t mean that, do you?’
May grinned. ‘Of course not. Make a hundred spare notebooks. It’s not like you’ve got anything else to do; planning your wedding, organizing cover for the shop while you’re on honeymoon, getting the manor ready for the Christmas Oak Fest substitution which you and Harry have crazily agreed to host.’
Sophie tipped her head back and groaned.
‘Mandy said it was going to be lots of mini plays,’ Imogen said. ‘The thing you’re doing instead of the Oak Fest.’
‘That’s what we’ve come up with,’ Sophie said.
‘Given the forecast looks so awful, we needed something that would work inside, but organizing a whole play – with parts, scripts and rehearsals, all that coordination – seemed too complicated, so Ermin and Fiona, who are in charge of events, suggested short performances. Groups of any size can organize and rehearse snippets themselves. We’re limiting each piece to ten minutes, and nothing rude because there will be children in the audience—’
‘And hopefully some performing,’ May added.
‘We’ll host them at the manor, organize some Christmassy refreshments. But the plays – or scenes, really – don’t even have to be festive.’
‘It’s like organized charades, then,’ Imogen said.
Sophie grinned. ‘I think if we tell the audience they have to guess where each scene comes from, the performers might get offended.’
Imogen laughed. ‘I suppose so.’ She fondled Terror’s ears, then crouched to give Clifton some love. ‘It sounds like a lot of fun.’
‘It’s your sort of thing, then?’ May asked.
‘I love performing. If I was here for it, I’d find some people to rehearse a scene with and put my name forward.’
‘You’re not planning on being around?’
Imogen sighed. ‘I don’t know yet.’
‘What do you want to do?’ Sophie asked.
Imogen shrugged, but she knew she couldn’t go back to London and pick up with Edmund where she’d left off; pretend she hadn’t run away from their future, or that she hadn’t realized she’d made a huge mistake, swallow it down and arrange to redo the wedding in the new year.
‘I would like to stay here for a bit. Do you need another pair of hands with all these extra notebooks?’
Sophie laughed. ‘I would love you to come to our wedding. That’s only ten days away.’
‘Which means you’ll need to make another notebook?’ she joked.
Sophie rolled her eyes. ‘It would be great to have you there, and you’re more than welcome. Birdie’s got a plus one, and Felix is Page Goat so he can’t take that spot.’
‘Oh my God.’ Imogen pressed her hands to her face. ‘Your goat is going to wear a little wedding outfit?’
Sophie nodded, her smile wry.
‘It’s why Sophie isn’t too worried about things going wrong on the day,’ May said, ‘because Felix is obviously going to cause a shitload of havoc, and will upstage anything else that happens. It’s a genius plan.’
‘I was sold before you mentioned Felix, and I absolutely cannot miss that,’ Imogen said. ‘But I also have a lot of free time, and you’re snowed under, so please let me help. Whatever you need.’
‘You’re sure?’
‘More sure than a sure thing.’
‘That’s really lovely of you, thank you.
I will take you up on that offer. Swap numbers?
’ Sophie sounded genuinely pleased, and Imogen was thrilled – and relieved.
She loved stationery, she did have a lot of free time, and often, when you were tormenting yourself over a decision, the best thing to do was keep busy and not think about it, and the answer would work itself out in your subconscious and come to you like a gift, all done up with a sparkly bow.
After they’d swapped numbers and said goodbye, Imogen walked back towards the village, the dark clouds crowding the shoreline, the wind strong enough to send sea spray prickling against her skin.
Being invited to Sophie and Harry’s wedding, offering her help and being taken up on it, felt like real acceptance, and it was a long time since she’d felt that particular warm glow, even while planning her own wedding.
She strolled back to Birdie’s, eating her cinnamon bun, not caring about the pastry and sugar dusting her cheeks.