Chapter Twenty
I haven’t stopped thinking about it since last night, the idea that I, Alicia Spencer, could become a candle maker like Rosalie from The Chandler’s Fire.
Do chandlers still exist? Is it even a job anymore? Either way, this is the first time I’ve ever started to get excited about my prospects. I’ll have to save the research until later, though, as Lucy has an important task for me this morning.
‘So listen, you know I have to go back to my publisher’s office today? Something about a press event they’re planning for the new book.’
‘Yep, you mentioned it.’
‘Well, do you think you could go to Lottie’s shop and pick up my wedding dress for me?’
I pause, my heart pounding. ‘O-of course I will. That’s … no problem at all.’
‘Thank you!’ Giving me a quick hug, she squeaks when she catches sight of the carriage clock on the mantle. ‘Shoot, I’m going to miss my train if I don’t get a wiggle on! I’ll see you later tonight, okay?’
‘Another Chinese takeaway for dinner?’
‘You read my mind!’
The moment she’s out of the house, panic mode hits me in full force.
This is a real maid of honour task, being trusted with the wedding dress is a privilege bestowed upon few, and that just terrifies me.
I got away with the hen party fiasco, but there can be no mistakes when it comes to the bridal gown. None whatsoever.
Pressing a palm to my heaving chest, I draw a slow, long breath.
It’ll be fine, it’s all very simple - Lottie’s shop is about a fifteen minute walk from the cottage, it’s not like I’ve got to travel out of the village.
All I have to do is pick up the dress, carry it home and hang it up in Lucy’s room. Easy peasy.
I find Lottie waiting anxiously outside the shop, holding a dress bag that is too short to contain Lucy’s wedding gown.
‘Hey, Leesh. Sorry I can’t stop, I’m dropping off a dress to a client in Gladeswood, and I’m already running late.
Lucy’s dress is hanging up on the curtain rail of the second changing room, the one in the back.
’ She presses the key into my hand. ‘Be sure to lock up when you leave, and push the key through the letterbox.’
‘No problem.’ I tuck the key into my pocket. ‘Have fun!’
With clammy hands, I turn the key in the lock and step onto the shop floor.
Last time I was here, I didn’t really focus on anything but Lucy’s dress, but now I’ve got a moment to myself, I circle the room in reverence, admiring the meticulously crafted gowns on display, some hanging on rails in colour coordination, others draped half-finished over mannequins with pins in place.
And there’s the changing room, with its heavy velvet curtain partially covered by an ivory dress bag.
Hastily, I unhook the hanger from the rail and carefully lay the bag over both my arms, taking great efforts to ensure it doesn’t drag across the floor.
Awkwardly, I fumble with the key, shifting the weight of the dress from arm to arm until the lock clicks into place.
After posting the little silver key through the letterbox, I begin the rather stressful journey back to Appleseed Cottage.
The dress is heavier than I would have imagined, and I dodge out of the way of every passerby, fearful they might accidentally splash their takeout coffee over the gown or careen straight into me, causing me to drop it into the gutter.
When Appleseed Cottage is in sight, I finally release the breath I’ve been holding onto. I’m back - and the dress is safe! The first thing I do is hang the bulky dress bag on the front of Lucy’s wardrobe door, ready for her to check out when she gets home tonight.
After a quick lunch of homemade bread (made lovingly by Gina) and jam, I open up my laptop and begin looking for answers.
To my surprise, there are a fair few small businesses that sell handmade candles, and the further I delve into researching, the more that ember of inspiration and excitement begins to ignite.
Perhaps I could open an online store, or even just start off touring craft fairs to sell my wares.
I’d need a name for the company, of course, but first, I need a business plan.
I’ve no idea how to write one of those, but I’m sure my old friend Mr Google can help me out.
Hours pass, and I’ve put together a list of ideas and found some craft fairs local to Lily Vale that I could potentially book a stall at. I wonder if there are any little shops that might want to stock my candles and melts too …
The buzzing in my jogging bottoms’ pockets yanks me out of my brainstorming session, and I dig out my phone to see that Lottie’s calling me. I answer instantly - she’s probably just checking in to make sure I locked up okay.
‘Alicia, you’ve left Lucy’s dress at the shop.’
‘What?’ I shake my head, sure I’ve misheard her. ‘No, I didn’t, it’s hanging up in her room right now.’
‘Right, well, I’m looking at it right this moment, so it can’t be in her bedroom. Which changing room did you grab it from?’
Confused, I search my memory banks. ‘Erm, the one with the blue curtain, I think.’
Lottie groans. ‘Oh, Leesh, I said the second changing room, the one at the back of the shop with the purple curtain! You’ve got another bride’s dress, and she needs it like, right now.’
My stomach falls to the floor with a terrible thud, along with my heart.
Mobile still pressed to my ear, I race upstairs to Lucy’s bedroom and tear at the zip on the front of the dress bag.
A froth of net and satin comes spilling out, and it’s immediately apparent that this is not the antique lace champagne dress Lucy had specially designed for her wedding day.
‘That dress needs to be with my other bride within two hours, her wedding is tomorrow. Her maid of honour was supposed to collect it, but she’s just phoned to tell me she’s caught up with something and can’t come to get it.
I told her I’d deliver it - I shouldn 't have as I’ve a prom deadline to meet tomorrow, but I had no choice.
’ Her voice thins and wobbles, like she’s trying not to cry.
‘If I had the dress here, I could go straight out and maybe make it back in time to finish the prom dress, but there’s hardly any time now -’
‘I’ll get it to her,’ I insist, the promise taking me by surprise as much as it does Lottie.
‘But it’s in Leamington Spa! That’s miles away.’
‘Don’t worry Lottie, I’ll sort it all out, don’t you worry about a thing.’
I don’t think I’ve convinced her, I’ve barely convinced myself . How the hell am I going to get to Leamington Spa? I don’t have a car, and I don’t fancy lugging this precious, one-of-a kind dress onto the train.
Suddenly, it hits me - Finn . His number is still stubbornly inked across my hand in blue biro that refused to wash off in the shower. Without hesitation, I punch it into my phone, everything crossed.
‘Hello?’
‘Finn, it’s Alicia. Are you free?’
‘Luckily for you, I just finished my shift. Why?’
‘It’s an emergency. We’ve got to get a wedding dress to Leamington Spa ASAP.’
‘Okay … I’ll admit, that was the last thing I expected you to say.’
‘Are you going to help me, or not?’
Within minutes, Finn’s pulling up outside Appleseed Cottage, and I’m bolting down the garden path, the dress bag flapping behind me.
‘Right, off we go!’ Finn announces as he starts up the car. ‘So, tell me how we got wrapped up in this again?’
‘Well, you got wrapped up in it because I needed a driver.’ I throw him a guilty glance. ‘I’m sorry about that.’
‘It’s fine, I like a good road trip. Now, tell me the rest of the story.’
I launch into it - how I picked up the wrong dress, how the client couldn’t come to collect it and Lottie realised my mistake, how she has a deadline for tomorrow she’ll struggle to make, and how I offered my help.
‘God, it’s a good job Lottie checked this dress first, imagine if we ended up going all that way to deliver the wrong one!’
‘I feel awful about it.’ I hang my head in shame. ‘I had one job, one totally simple job and I messed it up.’
‘Well it sounds like Lottie would have had trouble getting the dress to the wedding venue while meeting her deadline, anyway. It’s not really your fault, it’s that maid of honour’s if it’s anyone’s. She’s the one who messed up the schedule by refusing to come and collect the dress as agreed.’
‘But I just added to Lottie’s stress by taking the wrong gown,’ I sigh sadly. ‘You should have heard her on the phone, she sounded as though she was about to burst into tears.’
‘She’ll be fine, honestly. We all have rough days where everything seems to go wrong, but we’re taking something off her plate, aren’t we?’
‘I guess so.’
I hadn’t anticipated how long the drive was going to be, and after fifty minutes of endless motorway, I’m starting to fall asleep. Finn must have noticed me nodding off, because he pulls into a service station and buys us caramel lattes and a jam doughnut each to keep us going.
‘Not quite as good as the Cosy Little Tearoom’s, but it will have to suffice,’ he quips as he passes me the warm paper cup and a greasy brown paper bag.
Eventually, we leave the motorway and find ourselves on a much more green and rural route. Following the sat nav, we drive along a long path to a stunning country house hotel.
‘This must be the place,’ I announce, my pulse beginning to slow to a normal pace.
Feeling a little out of place in my joggers and t-shirt, we step into the grand building and I scan the entrance hall for someone who might be able to help. There’s no reception, just a huge swirling staircase and an ornate sign on an easel that denotes: Maria and Gavin’s Wedding.
We beetle along the corridor to a large dining room and I set my sights on a woman who looks like she might be the mother of the bride, directing all the decor vendors with a firm but kind hand. Finn and I rush to her side, almost tripping over one another.
‘Hi, we’re from Belle of the Ball, ’ Finn says in a professional voice that has me blinking in surprise. ‘We have the bride’s wedding dress here.’
‘Oh, thank goodness, I was starting to get worried!’ The woman takes it from us, her smile a mix of relief and gratitude. ‘My daughter’s been flapping upstairs, I know there was a last-minute change of plans with collection.’
You can say that again!
As quick as a flash, we get the hell out of there, jumping into Finn’s car and whizzing off as if our lives depend upon it.
‘What time will we get back to the village?’ I ask, frantic.
‘Sat nav says about fifteen minutes past six.’
Fingering my phone, I begin to relax against the car seat. ‘Okay, Lucy will be getting home about seven o’clock, I’ll have enough time to nip into the shop and pick up her dress before she’s back.'
The return journey seems to drag much more than before (curse the work traffic!) but I’m kept surprisingly entertained by Finn’s anecdotes from the pub.
‘So no one could catch the swan?’ I giggle, entranced by his current ridiculous tale.
‘Nope, not even the local policeman. The crazy thing chased all of our customers out of the door and set up camp behind the bar, hissing at anyone who dared to come close.’
‘What did you do, then?’
‘I turned on the juke box and blasted Elvis at full volume. It was ear-splitting, Uncle Baz said he could hear it from outside in the beer garden where he was trying to keep the customers calm, but it worked. Our feathered friend gave one last defiant honk and off he went, flying straight out of the window. I didn’t even know swans could fly, to be honest with you. ’
‘Nor did I.’ My shoulders still bouncing with residual giggles, I wipe a tear from my eye. ‘I’d never expect a small countryside pub to be a hub of such drama.’
‘Oh, it’s like a soap opera every Saturday night, believe me, there’s always something interesting happening, or at least, something weird.’
Finally, we’re back in Lily Vale Village. Finn parks at the side of the road, just outside Lottie’s shop.
‘Here you are,’ Finn turns the key in the ignition. ‘Just on time, too.’
‘Thanks so much for your help, I literally couldn’t have survived today without you.’
He gives a gracious nod, his tone soft as velvet. ‘You’re welcome, Alicia.’
My breath hitches as my eyes meet his. I lean in, perhaps to give him a peck on the cheek, but Finn sways closer, angling his lips to mine - and I don’t hesitate.
I kiss him fast and sudden, like a bolt of brilliant lightning that splits the stormy sky.
It only lasts a moment, but those few seconds are enough to banish all time and reason from my mind.
At least, until we break apart.
Suddenly embarrassed, I tuck a hair behind my ear, unsure where to let my eyes rest. ‘Erm, thanks again!’
I battle out of the seat belt, wrench open the car door and thump on the closed shop knocker, not daring to look back. Thankfully, Lottie opens up instantly and I leap inside, huffing and puffing.
‘Are you alright, Leesh?’ she asks, placing a hand on my shoulder. ‘You look like you’ve run all the way from Leamington Spa!’
‘I’m fine,’ I splutter, though I double over to catch my breath, hands on my knees. ‘Erm, do you have the dress?’
It’s a bit of a rush, but I manage to bring the gown home and have it hanging up in Lucy’s room before she gets back. None the wiser to the dress debacle, she squeals with joy when she inspects it and hugs me tight.
‘Thank you so much for picking it up. Eek, I’ve got to call Lottie now to thank her for everything.’
‘She might not answer,’ I warn her. ‘She’s pretty busy finishing off a prom dress for tomorrow.’
‘Ah well, perhaps I’ll just send her a text then.’
I leave Lucy to it and go downstairs to order our Chinese.
I can’t concentrate on the menu, the dishes jumble into nonsense before my eyes and I have to blink hard to bring the letters back into focus.
Why did I kiss Finn? Or was it he who kissed me?
I can’t quite remember the details, except that he tasted like caramel coffee and doughnut sugar.
Burying my face in the orange menu, I stifle a little scream. Now I’ve gone and done it, as usual, I can’t help but make my stupid life a whole lot more complicated. Why do I always manage to muddy up perfectly clear waters?