Chapter 2
TWO
With an inward sigh of frustration, Florrie waited while Mandy updated them on her broken wrist that was still in its plaster cast and keeping her from her cooking duties in the pub’s kitchen.
Florrie’s heart sank even further when the landlady went on to tell them how the recent stint of sunny weather had been good for business, and described how a coachload of customers had landed unexpectedly and had the chefs run off their feet.
Please not now! Florrie felt her impatience bouncing around inside her, so at odds with her usual easy-going demeanour.
When she was eventually done chatting, Mandy threw a couple of logs onto the fire, sending sparks shooting up the chimney and the aroma of woodsmoke into the air.
Much as Florrie was fond of the landlady, she was relieved when she finally headed back to the bar, stopping to talk to other regulars as she went.
‘I’m beginning to think we’re never going to find out what’s got our Florrie wound as tight as a spring,’ said Maggie, as they all turned their attention back to their table.
‘Yeah, come on, spill the tea,’ added Jazz.
Doing all she could to push thoughts of her future mother-in-law out of her mind, Florrie took a moment to restore her focus before she spoke.
‘So, this afternoon, your plans for my hen celebrations got back to me.’ She swiftly swept her gaze around her friends, keen to catch their initial reactions, see what they’d reveal.
‘Right,’ said Stella, drawing the word out as she glanced between the others, her brow creasing in puzzlement. ‘Not sure how that happened. We were all sworn to secrecy; it was meant to be a surprise.’
‘A surprise? Shock more like,’ said Florrie, making the creases in Stella’s brow deepen.
‘Okay, which one of you has blabbed?’ asked Maggie. ‘I’ve kept my trap tightly shut.’
‘Not guilty.’ Jasmine held up her palms. Her reaction was so convincing it made Florrie wonder if there’d been a mix up over what she’d heard, particularly since Jasmine’s name had specifically been mentioned.
‘And I haven’t breathed a word,’ said Lark. ‘Not even to Nate, well, only the bit he needs to know, and I stressed to him that he had to keep it secret.’
‘Same here with Alex,’ added Stella. ‘And I’m confident neither of them would let anything slip, inadvertently or otherwise.’
Florrie’s attention was pulled away from Jasmine as she tried to work out why there’d be something Nate and Alex ‘needed’ to know. Just as she was considering this, Maggie spoke.
‘It’s a real shame word’s got out, especially after all the effort we’ve put in.’
Florrie could barely believe her friend’s reaction.
‘To be honest, I wouldn’t call it a shame exactly.
In fact, I’d say I’m relieved to have heard about it before it actually got the chance to happen.
It’s given me the opportunity to put a stop to it.
’ Ignoring the confused expressions around the table, she ploughed on.
‘I just want to stress – again – that I don’t want a big fuss, okay?
’ She pushed her glasses up her nose and glanced around at her friends, fixing them, one by one, with a warning look she hoped would leave them in no doubt that she was deadly serious.
Ah, right,’ said Jasmine, in a way that suggested she’d just cottoned on to something.
Florrie’s gaze travelled back to her. Frustration flared through her when she saw her friend’s mouth twitching in the way it did when she was struggling not to laugh.
If that wasn’t enough, her green eyes were twinkling mischievously which only served to confirm Florrie’s worst fears.
Clearly, her objections weren’t coming out as forcefully as she’d hoped.
Injecting a firmer tone into her voice, she continued, ‘You all know how I don’t like being the centre of attention; that I much prefer low-key stuff – it’s exactly the reason Ed and I have settled for a small, intimate wedding.
I’d be more than happy to have a quiet meal at Oscar’s Bistro, just the five of us.
In fact, the more I think about it, the more I think that would be quite nice. ’
‘“Nice”?’ repeated Jasmine, the struggle with her laugh brought to an abrupt halt.
From the look on her face anyone would think there was a bad smell under her nose.
‘You can’t settle for “nice” when you’re celebrating getting married, Florrie.
You’ve got to let your besties make some sort of fuss over you.
Surely you wouldn’t deprive us of that pleasure? ’
Florrie groaned inwardly.
‘I agree with Jazz,’ said Maggie. ‘The bistro’s great, but we can go there any time; we’ve got to do something a bit different to celebrate such a momentous occasion.’
‘Jazz and Mags are right,’ said Stella. ‘But I’m curious to know exactly what you heard, and also who you heard it from.’
‘You can tell our Stella’s a barrister; wanting to get all the facts lined up,’ Lark said with a chuckle.
‘Well…’ Florrie’s eyes flicked briefly to Jasmine – whose grin had made a reappearance – as she went on to explain how Leah, The Happy Hartes Bookshop’s young assistant, had informed her that her best friend, Abbie, had been in the local supermarket when she’d overheard part of a conversation Jasmine had been having with a notorious local gossip, Pat Grievson, and that the words ‘strippagram’ and ‘Florrie’s hen party’ had floated to her ears.
Abbie had apparently reported it to Leah, who hadn’t wasted any time in sharing it with Florrie.
‘Then other customers started to mention it over the course of the afternoon, but what concerned me the most, was that some were saying they’d heard the stripper was going to turn up at the bookshop and…
perform – if that’s what you call what they do – right there, which is why I was so past myself worrying about it.
’ Florrie pressed her hand to her chest. ‘Leah’s a reliable source and she’d assured me that Abbie was, too, so I had no reason to doubt it was true. ’
A collection of snorts ran around the table before all eyes turned to Jasmine. ‘Oops! Sorry I blabbed,’ she said, giving a cheeky smile.
‘It’s so not funny, you lot! It’s totally not my kind of thing, you should all know that!’ Such was her outrage, Florrie didn’t notice the subtle flick of Stella’s eyebrows in Jasmine and Maggie’s direction, nor their equally subtle, non-verbal responses.
Putting her famous poker face to good use, Stella said, ‘Look, flower, Ando’s already agreed to be a strippagram for the occasion.
He’s looking forward to it; we can’t just dump him; tell him he’s surplus to requirements at this late stage, especially when he’s said it’s going to be the highlight of his year.
We thought you’d be chuffed, especially cos he doesn’t have the most exciting life, bless him. ’
‘Aye, Ando may be a bit of a daft lad, but he’s got a good heart,’ added Jasmine, clasping her hands to her chest. ‘Which is why we thought you’d be happy to go along with it.’
‘What?’ Florrie’s face paled as her heart went into freefall. It was even worse than she’d feared. She covered her face with her hands. ‘No way! Ando? Seriously?’ She didn’t even want to think what him having a ‘good heart’ had to do with anything!
‘Yep, seriously. He told me he was looking forward to it, too, Stells,’ said Maggie.
‘Collared me when I first got here, told me how he’d already worked out his routine; something involving those pickled eggs he was tirelessly trying to tempt our Jazz with before she and Max got together.
’ She flashed Florrie a wide smile as a loud snort came from Jasmine’s direction.
‘And I, personally, can’t wait to see how he’s going to incorporate his skateboard into the routine, but he’s assured me it’s going to be a very polished affair.
’ She scooped up her wine and took a sip, her eyes dancing as she peered over the top of her glass.
‘Oh jeez,’ Florrie muttered to herself as she let her hands fall away from her face. Her friends had created the most terrifying mental image; it was going to take a great effort to shift it from her mind.
With his battered leather jacket, ripped jeans and baseball cap worn back to front, Ando Taylor was a familiar sight in town, his attire more akin to the local teenagers he hung around with at the skateboard park than his peers in their forties.
If he had a job, no one had a clue what it was since he seemed to spend most of his time skateboarding or propping up the bar at the Jolly.
He was generally viewed as a harmless soul – if not a little misguided and prone to laziness.
And, with the exception of Maggie – whose marital status appeared to have saved her from his unwelcome advances – he’d tried his luck with each of the women in the group, particularly when he was on the other side of several pints of Micklewick Mischief at the Jolly on a Friday evening.
He’d sway over to their table, his boozy breath making their noses twitch as he offered to walk home whichever of the friends was the subject of his attention at the time.
It didn’t appear to occur to him that his suggestion of rounding the evening off with a visit to his bedsit where they could dine on pickled eggs washed down with a glass or two of the home brew he’d named ‘Gut Rot’ wasn’t remotely tempting.
He’d never pushed further when his offer was declined; he’d simply stagger away, accepting their refusals.
He’d finally given up when all of the friends had become happily settled in serious relationships.
And though he’d been particularly persistent with Jasmine, everyone knew he’d had a soft spot for Florrie.
‘And then there’s the fact we’ve already booked and paid for him,’ said Jasmine, once she’d recovered from her giggle-snort. ‘Tell you what, for a hundred and fifty quid, Ando had better be bloomin’ good or I’ll be asking for a refund of my share.’