Chapter Seven
Satisfied, I blow out the vanilla bean candle burning away on the windowsill and slowly close the lid of my laptop.
For the last week, I’ve been planning the hen party to end all hen parties.
To start off, I’ve organised a special afternoon tea at The Cosy Little Tearoom so Mel’s daughter Grace can join in, booked some treatments at a luxury spa in Gladeswood, and then for the finale, I’ve hired the VIP area in a club with table service and its very own cage and pole for a bit of dirty dancing!
But the biggest surprise will be the entertainment - I found a local stripper website and booked Ash Skye - he had the best reviews, so I’m hoping he’ll give Luce a five-star night!
All that’s left to do now is put together some goodie bags for all the hens - I’ve got the contact details of the ladies Lucy wants there and I’ll be sending out their invitations via group chat within the week.
But now that all the big stuff is figured out, I’m at a loss on how to spend my time. Last night, I begged Lucy for another task to do, if only to stop myself going mad with boredom, and finally, she relented.
‘Well, we haven’t sorted our favours yet,’ she says. ‘I want to do something personal and functional, not just sugared almonds, you know? But I just can’t think what.’
‘I see,’ I flick my eyes up to the beamed ceilings in thought. ‘Has Alex had any ideas?’
She snorts. ‘He suggested we should give out Swiss army knives with our wedding date printed on them - typical handyman!’
‘Hm, it’s kind of a cute idea.’ I tilt my head to one side, mulling it over. ‘Personal, and very functional.’
‘Sure, I guess, but not the most practical at a wedding with children present.’
‘Point taken. Okay, leave it with me, I’ll do some research and have a good think about it.’
‘Thanks, that’ll be one load off my mind.’ Groaning, she trails her fingers through her hair. ‘What with my deadline coming up for this bloody new book, I’ve hardly had the chance to think about the wedding at all.’
‘Don’t worry, Luce, that’s what I’m here for,’ I tell her in as reassuring a tone as I can. ‘Just hand over any jobs you don’t have time to deal with, and I’ll take them on, no problem. Phoning vendors, picking up bits and pieces, you name it.’
‘Thanks, Leesh, you’re a real mate.’ She sighs and turns back to her screen. ‘Right, I had better get on with this, the book won’t write itself, worst luck.’
I make her a coffee and leave her to it, dipping out to get some fresh air. Apparently, there’s a library around here somewhere, and I’d rather book out one of the computers there than moulder away in my room, hunched over my laptop for hours on end.
Luckily for me, Lily Vale is a tiny place, so the library isn’t hard to locate, and after asking the kind librarian for the login details, I take my place at a computer and begin my research.
Inspiration is a doddle to find; there’s all manner of pictures of beautiful weddings all over the net, and I sift through a bunch, trying to match them to Lucy and Alex’s vision.
They want rustic and intimate, these ornamental soaps look much too polished and prim. Ooh, but these pots of jam are quite cute - have I got time to learn how to make jam?
After surfing the web for well over an hour, I save a handful of pictures into a designated favour folder on a USB stick, feeling quite pleased with myself.
This is the most organised I’ve ever been since - well, ever!
Even at school when I was taking exams, my revision notes were all over the place, my best laid plans of colour-coded post-its and neatly highlighted passages were quickly eschewed when I realised my brain just doesn’t naturally work that way.
But look at me now - creating folders and saving files as actual names, rather than an assortment of letters and numbers that look as though a kitten has just walked across the keyboard.
Could it be that after thirty-three years of being useless, I’m finally getting myself together?
Instead of going straight back to the cottage, I decide to give Lucy some space and go for a wander around. In the village square beside the old clock, a stall of fresh fruit and vegetables stands proud, manned by a young woman with a friendly face who addresses me as I approach.
‘Hi, all this produce has been freshly picked from Simmons Farm this morning.’ She gestures to the shallow wooden crates before her. ‘Care to have a taste?’
Coming closer, I peruse the fantastic selection, deciding upon a large, bright red strawberry. At first bite, sweet juice bursts in my mouth, forcing me to literally close my eyes in pleasure.
‘Oh God, that is good!’
‘Right?’ she grins. ‘Not to toot my own horn, but they are miles better than the ones you get from the shops.’
‘You’re a farmer then?’ I try not to sound so shocked, but I suspect I might have failed at that. She certainly doesn’t look like one, or at least, my admittedly narrow idea of one.
‘I guess so,’ she chuckles. ‘My uncle and aunt own the farm, I just sort of work there. You know, feeding the animals, harvesting the veggies, all the fun stuff.’
‘That does sound pretty fun.’ At least compared to my boring ex-job. ‘I’m Alicia, by the way.’
‘Tabby. So are you new to the village, or just on holiday?’
‘On holiday, sort of. My mate Lucy is getting married soon, and I’m - well, I’m taking some time out to give her a hand.’
I can feel the heat rise in my cheeks as I attempt to gloss over my awkward situation, but the look in Tabby’s eyes tells me that she understands.
‘Hey, I get it. I came here a year ago to get over a naff break-up, and I never left.’
I offer up a tiny smile, feeling somewhat seen, if only for a moment.
‘But yeah, Lucy and Alex - the wedding of the year!’ Tabby plants her hands on her hips. ‘It’s all anyone can talk about.’
I resist the urge to blink in surprise. It’s so strange being in a place where everyone knows one another.
Tabby continues, ‘Well, it should be a good day, we’re all so happy for them. It’s been a long time coming!’
‘Yeah, I just hope I can do them justice as maid of honour. I’m doing my best to take the pressure off them, you know?’
‘That’s a big help in itself, I’ve heard planning a wedding is one of the most stressful things a couple can do - that, and moving house.’
A gulp bobs at my throat. Tabby’s right, the enormity of wedding planning is guaranteed to put strain on even the strongest relationship, and with the added issue of what Lucy and Alex are going to do about their respective family homes, well, I don’t like the look of the odds …
‘Alright, Tabby.’ The scent of lemongrass and amber envelopes me, and I turn to see Finn at my side, flashing a charming smile that dazzles in the sunlight. ‘Can I get a punnet of strawberries, some carrots, and a couple of courgettes, please?’
‘Of course.’
As Tabby parcels up the veggies and berries, I raise an eyebrow at Finn, shaking my head in mock disbelief.
‘You just keep popping up in the most unexpected places, don’t you?’
A cheeky smirk in place, Finn folds his arms in response. ‘Maybe it’s you who keeps popping up.’
Side by side, we stroll around the square, aimlessly window shopping.
‘How’s the wedding planning going?’ he asks. ‘We didn’t get much of a chance to catch up last week.’
‘It’s going okay,’ I pick at my nails, considering how much of my true anxieties to reveal. After all, I barely know this guy.
He cocks his head quizzically. ‘Just okay?’
‘Well, I sort of feel like a spare part. I’m doing my best to be a helpful maid of honour, but there’s only so much I can do. It’s weird, I’m totally knackered from looking things up for Luce, and yet I feel like I haven’t done anything particularly useful.’
‘You’ve probably done a lot more for her than you realise,’ he says sagely. ‘Sometimes just being there for someone is a massive comfort.’
‘Maybe.’ I lift my shoulder dubiously. ‘Maybe not.’
‘Say, let me treat you to a coffee,’ he offers. ‘You haven’t lived until you’ve tried the java from The Cosy Little Tearoom.’
‘Oh, I’m aware, Lucy takes me every time I visit,’ I tell him. ‘Lead the way.’
We grab two iced lattes to go, but not before giving Puddles a big fuss.
‘I love this little guy,’ Finn laughs, tickling the pooch under his chin.
‘Same, I’d love to have a dog, but I’ve never had a landlord that would allow one.’
The sun is high in the sky when we leave the tea room and walk toward the park, sipping our drinks companionably. It’s quiet here, save for a couple of joggers and two mums with their buggies, heading toward the play area.
‘So, is there much left to sort out for the wedding, then?’ Finn asks, sounding genuinely interested.
‘Hm, not really, it’s just the small and finicky details. As soon as Alex put the ring on Lucy’s finger, she’d basically already set a date and found a venue by the sounds of things.’
‘Wow, they don’t hang about!’ Finn raises his eyebrows. ‘My sister’s wedding took two and a half years to plan, but hers was very extravagant - horse and carriage, huge cathedral, the whole nine yards. I can imagine Alex and Lucy wanted something a bit more low-key.’
‘Exactly. Still, they have a stunning venue for the reception, do you know Thistlewick Manor?’
‘Of course, it’s just down the road from here. I remember we went on a tour of the place in Year Six, it’s a fantastic old building, but it sort of creeped me out as a kid. It felt somehow haunted, I was scared to turn a corner in case a ghost materialised out of thin air.’
Laughing, I shove him toward the duck pond, but instead of tumbling in, he manages to gain purchase. ‘You little wimp!’
‘I was, to be fair,’ he admits. ‘Ah, it’ll be a nice day, I’m sure, with no ghosts in sight! And I bet you’ll be front and centre when it’s time for the bouquet toss.’
I stick out my tongue in disgust. ‘Ew, I’ll be staying firmly away from that, thank you very much.’
‘Oh come on, I thought all girls loved that stuff?’
‘Yeah, I’m not the marrying type. I’m not even sure I’m the girlfriend type.’
‘How so?’
The question gives me pause, and I grasp for a satisfactory answer.
‘I just … I don’t do relationships. Certainly not ones that get serious enough for marriage, anyway.’
‘How come?’
I glare at him. ‘God, you’re nosy. How about we turn the spotlight on you , instead?’
Chilled as you like, Finn spreads his arms. ‘Go for it. I’m an open book.’
‘Okay.' My fingers tap rhythmically around my coffee cup as I gear myself up for a good old grilling. ‘When was your last serious relationship?’
‘Two years ago.’
‘And why did it end?’
‘She wanted something different than me. Namely, my best friend.’
‘Oh, shit.’ I pull an agonised face, suddenly feeling awful. ‘Sorry.’
‘It’s okay, I’m over it. I mean, it sucked at the time, but I’m glad I found out when I did, instead of wasting any more time on either of them.’
I’m not sure what to say next, so I’m sort of relieved when Finn breaks the silence, even though it lasted mere seconds.
‘You know, we’ve got karaoke night coming up this month,’ he says, mischief dancing in his eyes. ‘Will you and Uncle Barry be treating the village to another fabulous duet?’
‘Very funny, you weren’t even there!’ I frown in thought. ‘Were you?’
‘Nah, I only came to work at the pub four months ago. But I’ve heard all about it.’
In an attempt to act casually, I flip my hair over my shoulder. ‘Well, I doubt I’ll have time, there’s just so much to sort out for the wedding, you see.’
It’s a bit of an excuse, after all, Lucy’s been going fairly easy on me when it comes to assigning tasks.
Sure, there’s a lot to do, but I’ve got a manageable amount at the moment, and I’m making good progress.
Normally, I don’t mind acting the fool (especially when I’ve got a few drinks in me) but the idea of potentially embarrassing myself in front of Finn has got me all hot under the collar.
Seemingly unbothered either way, Finn shrugs his shoulders. ‘Well, if you do find yourself free, it’s in two Saturdays’ time at seven o’clock.’
I mirror his nonchalance with a shrug of my own. ‘We’ll see.’
Finn glances at the silver watch on his wrist and his brow creases. ‘Damn, I need to get going. My lunch shift starts in about ten minutes.’ He pauses, lifting a hand to his neck. ‘I don’t suppose you fancy coming in for lunch? My Auntie Karen does a mean lasagne.’
I have to hold myself back from licking my lips at the very mention of lasagne, and I reluctantly shake my head.
‘Nah, I’ve got a lot to be getting on with. Thanks, though.’
‘Another time, maybe.’ Finn smiles softly. ‘Well, be seeing you.’
‘Yeah,’ I mumble wistfully as he walks away. ‘Be seeing you.’