Chapter Sixteen
Kivi
This is going to be one heck of a job, Kivi thought as she waved goodbye to Cass and Heather an hour and a half later and returned to the dining room.
Perhaps she should have done her research in advance.
After all, it was public knowledge on the community grapevine that Felicia Wilson had Dissociative Identity Disorder.
It was certainly not a secret that she had multiple people living in one body, although some treated her like she had some sort of alien spirit possession.
“But not the choir,” Heather said with a relieved smile.
“They know there's nothing wrong with us.
And that's a point: we'd like them to perform at our wedding. Jean and Petra have already said yes.”
Over toasted sandwiches with salad, they'd ironed out the basics.
They were hoping for a late September date – they'd originally plumped for the late August bank holiday, but Kivi had warned them that this would be difficult.
“September is less busy at the moment. I can block out that last weekend for you, no problem. If it’s summer you're wanting, and you're also wanting Sandy Dunes as a venue, it'll have to be next summer.”
As it was, timings would be tight. It cost nearly two thousand pounds to get a wedding licence, and it was only because of Kivi's contacts within the council that they had been promised that it would have been approved by then.
Good old Anna. They didn't speak much these days, but she could always be counted upon to step up when it mattered.
She hoped that Saskia would be the same.
She had been remarkably quiet throughout the meeting, her head moving backwards and forwards between the three other attendees like a spectator at a tennis match.
If there was any chance of this ‘shadowing’ arrangement working out, the journalist would need to get involved.
It was already shaping up to be a mammoth task.
Kivi expected that she would step up. She didn't exactly seem a shrinking-violet type, much more a throw-self-in-at-deep-end-and-sink-or-swim type.
It was entirely possible that she had just been observing.
Listening, like a true journalist. And at least she'd eaten lunch today.
Kivi had noticed her staring at the cheese toastie as if it were a house brick, but she had eaten it, then returned to her former passive observations.
By the time Kivi got back to the dining room after seeing Cass and Heather off, Saskia was nowhere to be found.
Suddenly, Kivi's skin prickled. That was a sudden disappearance. Was she-
“Oh, sorry.” Saskia appeared in the doorway of the kitchen, and must have mistaken her look of horror as an aversion to her being in the kitchen.
“I thought I'd try and make myself useful by getting rid of the plates.
Except I'm not sure where the dishwasher is, so I left them on the side.
Is that okay? I understand if you don't want me in the kitchen.”
‘That's a better alternative than what I thought,’ Kivi nearly said, but she bit her tongue. She was being irrational.
“Don't worry about it,” she said instead, in a mildly strangled tone. Between them they picked up the remaining plates and glasses, then Saskia followed her back into the kitchen and over to the dishwasher. “So… what did you think?” Kivi said, trying to end the awkward silence.
“They're a lovely pair. Uh, group. Shit. I'm probably going to get the terminology wrong accidentally.”
“You and me both,” Kivi said. “Did it shock you?”
“That Heather is just one of a multitude of people in one body? I mean, a bit, yes. But I was more interested in the fact that Cass is the daughter of Eulalia Gray. I'm a massive fan.”
Ah yes. That was the other bombshell that the two fiancées had dropped.
Kivi really didn't know that much about the late Kiwi singer-songwriter, but she was one of those famous people that literally everyone knew of.
The kind that became part of the world's genetic make-up.
So illustrious, it was nigh-on impossible to find someone who didn't know one of their songs.
Somehow, she hadn't expected Saskia Saltmarshe to now go full-on fangirl on her.
She'd thought Saskia was a bit more… prosaic.
“I'll leave you in charge of the music, then,” Kivi said. “Sorting an appropriate background playlist. Given that they’re doing an afternoon tea as opposed to dinner and a disco. There’s no point getting a DJ to do that. We’ll just have to give the local guy a miss.”
"Shame," Saskia said. "Given how much they wanted to keep it in the village. Which ties right in with the article I've just finished. All about the local businesses down here, and how they prop each other up."
"Oh yes?" Kivi found herself wearing an amused smile. "Like who? Like what?"
Saskia blushed.
“Well, like Beachy Blooms. How Anastasia only arrived in the village two years ago, but has struck up beautiful working relationships with the residents and the other local business-owners. How it just so happens that her partner is the headteacher of the local primary school.”
“You will consult them both before putting that in the article, won't you?” Kivi said anxiously. “It's one thing to be out in your village, but quite another to be out in a national magazine. I don’t even know if they are out in the village.”
“I know,” Saskia said. “Trust me, I know. My mum and brother had enough struggles while coming out – it's certainly rammed it home for me about how hard it can be.”
“Your mum?” Kivi didn’t think she’d mentioned this before.
“My mum is bisexual. Now engaged to a woman, Gilly. And she struggled a lot with coming out.”
“I was very lucky,” Kivi said. “My coming-out process couldn't have been simpler. Everyone around me was very accepting, including my parents, so it didn't change anything. Most people are not that lucky.”
“I know,” Saskia said again, but Kivi could see her colouring slightly. She looked almost upset. Interesting.
“Anyway,” Kivi said, not wanting to push the potentially sore subject further.
“Anyway. Action plans. You start looking at music, and I'll start looking at gazebos.
The weather here in autumn is too touch-and-go for me to be comfortable holding the event entirely outside.
The guest list is relatively small, which will help matters considerably, but you could start looking for local caterers.
I had a go-to company when I was doing this before, but they folded during the pandemic.
And I'll also start looking at invitations. I can mock some up online and get a digital proof sent to the girls by tomorrow.”
“Music and caterers, got it,” Saskia said. “I don't think I realised quite how much went into a wedding. I've only ever been a guest, not a family member. Obviously I wasn't there for my own parents’, and Leo is long-term single, like me…”
Interesting indeed. Was Saskia deliberately mentioning her singleness? Was she fishing to see if Kivi was interested? Kivi looked over at her, but Saskia was staring into the distance.
“It may surprise you to learn that before I started my business, I'd only ever been to two weddings in my life,” Kivi said.
“Both distant cousins, and both in my teens.
Both unfortunately ending in divorce within ten years, but that's beside the point.
It awakened something in me. I'd been interested in event planning before then, but going to those weddings was what really sealed the deal.
The love. Orchestrating the best day of someone's lives.
Standing there watching them do their first dance, knowing that I'd helped it happen.
That sounds selfish, doesn't it?” She chuckled self-consciously.
“But it's true. I'd still probably be doing it today if it wasn't for Gareth and Drew.
But I was a bit bored, and I'd always wanted to run a guest house. When the money became available…” Now she shrugged. “I took the leap.”
“Is it good to return to your roots?” Saskia said.
“I can't tell yet,” Kivi said honestly. “Part of me is waiting for something to go wrong. Which it almost always does; it's just the extent of the impact that differs.”
“Sounds like a high-stakes, high-pressure career,” Saskia said. “Makes journalism sound like a walk in the park.”
“I'm sure journalism has its own stakes and pressures,” Kivi said.
“You're not wrong,” Saskia sighed. She seemed to drift off into space for a second, and then clearly remembered where she was.
Kivi could almost see the switch back into charismatic, charming Saskia Saltmarshe.
“Anyway! I accept your action plan, and I'll get on with it straight away.
I'll let you get on with your day. Do you have a busy afternoon ahead?”
“I’m never not busy. Especially now. Keeping this place ship-shape is hard work – so yes, I need to get on. I'll see you at dinner, okay?”
“Yes, Captain,” Saskia said, wiggling her eyebrows almost flirtatiously. Ooh, even more interesting.
Kivi decided to try something. She put out her arm, fist clenched, and stretched it towards Saskia. Saskia stared at it with confusion, then did the same. Then, just as their knuckles brushed, Kivi raised her arm to the sky and opened out her hand.
“Go, team!” she cried, harking back to her days as netball captain.
“Go team,” Saskia repeated with a chuckle, but yep, she had gone pink. And then she was on the move. “See you later,” she muttered on the way out.
Interesting, interesting, interesting…