News that our wedding is off spreads around the village like wildfire once I’ve told Kayla. And I get used to people approaching me in the street, doing an ‘aw’ face, patting me on the arm and walking off without a word. They obviously don’t know about Toby yet – I made Kayla keep that bombshell quiet – or their pats might be punches.

I’m expecting the same mute sympathy at the next choir rehearsal but there’s an air of fevered excitement when I arrive on the dot of seven-thirty. Josh, Emily and Storm went on ahead while I finished clearing up the tea things. Normally they help but they all ate their food and bolted. Weird.

‘You’re here at last! Come with me,’ insists Maureen, putting her hand on the small of my back and propelling me towards the altar. She has dark smudges down her blouse and there’s a pile of oozing chocolate cupcakes on the front pew. Fabulous! Breaktime will be a bonanza of buttercream.

The choir are sitting silently in their seats and Josh is standing near the piano with Michaela. Everyone here’s except for Jennifer and they all smile at me when I reach the crate cum podium. Which, again, is weird. Usually I have to raise my voice to get their attention first thing.

‘What’s going on?’ Everyone’s still staring at me and I run my tongue across my teeth for any stray teatime spinach.

Lovely Mary levers herself to her feet using the back of the chair in front of her. ‘We have something to tell you.’

‘O-K.’ I laugh nervously because, in my experience, when people have ‘something to tell you’ it’s often bad news: Mum disclosing she had cancer, Alice confirming her health was deteriorating, Barry turning up on my doorstep and announcing he was my long-lost father. Though that last one turned out to be a good thing in the end.

‘The thing is,’ says Mary, her white curled hair shining under the lights, ‘we were upset to hear that you and Josh have had to postpone your wedding because finances are tight. Especially as it was your last chance to have the reception at Tregavara House.’

‘Yeah, seeing as we hear it’s going to toffee-nosed Toby, who’ll ruin the place and never fit in round here,’ grumbles Roger, who’s slimmer and smarter than usual.

‘Kayla, you told them?’

She holds up her hands, palms towards me. ‘It wasn’t me, Sunshine. You wanna tell that brooding fiancé of yours to keep a lid on things.’

Has Josh been blabbing? He doesn’t look particularly guilty.

‘Shush,’ shouts Arthur. ‘Let Mary finish – though can I first register my disquiet at your cousin becoming the owner of prime property in Salt Bay.’

Mary tuts softly. ‘Disquiet noted, thank you, Arthur. Anyway, we’ve all been talking to Josh about the situation you’re both in and the thing is, you can get married.’

‘And we will once we’ve found somewhere else to live and we’ve got enough money for a reception and you’ll all be re-invited. It would be lovely to have the reception at Tregavara House but it really doesn’t matter,’ I say brightly, to cover up that it does matter very much.

‘What Mary means is that the Salt Bay Choral Society is going to save your wedding,’ butts in Maureen, jumping to her feet. ‘We’re going to give you the best reception and send-off that Salt Bay’s ever seen. Well,’ she backtracks, ‘it won’t be anything too posh, I’m afraid, but we’ll all bring a dish to share and chip in for the booze.’

‘Which I can get at cost price,’ adds Roger.

‘We can sort out tables and decorations and flowers too,’ says Fiona. ‘So what do you think?’

I think I’m going to cry and the muscles in Josh’s jaw are working overtime.

‘What you’re suggesting is amazing and wonderful, but we can’t let you go to all that trouble.’

‘It’s no trouble,’ says Cyril from the back row of the tenors. ‘You’ve done so much for us and for the village. So this is our wedding present to you both.’ His cheeks go pink and his chin drops to his chest.

‘Well said, Cyril,’ calls Gerald. ‘You’re one of us now, Annie, and we help our own. So the wedding’s going ahead, right?’

‘But I’ve cancelled the ceremony.’

‘That’s all right because I’ve had a word with Hilary this evening and un-cancelled it,’ says Josh with a grin. How long has he known about this?

I look around me at the strange ragbag of people I’ve come to love over the last nineteen months. People who’ve accepted an incomer from London and made her a part of this close-knit community.

‘If you’re sure,’ I gulp. ‘That would be the most fantastic wedding present ever. Thank you so much.’

Everyone cheers when Josh strides forward, circles my waist with his strong arms and swings me round.

‘Did you organise this?’ I whisper into his ear as his thick dark hair tickles my nose.

‘Nope, it’s all their idea. Gerald sounded me out about it this morning and you deserve it because you’re always doing so much for other people. Anyway, I can’t wait any longer to make you Mrs Pasco.’

‘Ms Trebarwith.’

‘Whatever you want to call yourself. I don’t care as long as you marry me this month.’ And he kisses me on the lips while everyone claps.

---

During the break, I sit alone at the back of the church gathering my thoughts. I’ll be walking down this aisle in less than three weeks’ time thanks to my lovely choir, who are currently clustered round the chocolate cupcakes.

The only sour note of the evening is Jennifer’s absence. Is she starting to cut her ties with us in anticipation of her move to Paris? The village will be devastated if she leaves, especially Roger, who’s shoving a whole cupcake into his gob while Kayla’s back is turned.

Who’d have guessed he was holding a candle for our star soprano? Not even Roger, it seems, and now he’s realised when it’s probably too late. That’s tough. But at least he’ll be slim and smart as well as sad in the crisp new shirts that Kayla’s made him buy.

Aargh! Covering my face with my hands, I rock gently back and forth in the pew.

It’s all very well organising the reception so my wedding can go ahead but what the hell am I going to wear? I picture the satin dress still hanging stained and bedraggled in the wardrobe because I haven’t had the heart to chuck it out.

‘Are you all right, dear? Have you got a headache?’ calls Florence, marching up the aisle. ‘I need a quick chat with you if possible.’

‘Of course. What’s the problem?’

‘Not here when he’s about.’ She glances at Josh, who’s chatting with Tom and Ollie. ‘In the vestry. Follow me.’

She scuttles off down the aisle, does a swerve past the cake scoffers and shoots into the vestry with me following her. After pushing the door to, she pulls out a large suit carrier stashed behind a cupboard.

‘I didn’t want your fiancé to see this. He told Gerald that the rain coming through your roof ruined the dress that you were going to wear for your wedding, which is a terrible shame.’

She starts unzipping the carrier. Uh-oh, I have a horrible idea where this is going. I swallow and nod.

‘So I brought this in for you to wear. It’s the dress I wore when I married my Bob and it should fit you because I was a lot skinnier in those days. But feel free to alter it if need be. It would be a great honour if you’d wear it on your wedding day. There’s no need to thank me.’

She beams and pulls back the black nylon cover.

Oh my. It’s so kind of Florence to let me wear her wedding dress. I’m touched beyond belief at her thoughtfulness and kindness. But Florence’s dress is absolutely hideous. Huge looping swathes of lace and shiny chalk-white satin festoon the creation, which has a deep ruffled neckline and puffed sleeves edged with a flurry of more ruffles. And there appears to be a hoop underneath the full skirt.

‘Wow, Florence, I really don’t know what to say!’ I exclaim as Kayla barrels into the room holding a plastic cup of orange squash.

‘Here you are!’ She gasps at the dress, open-mouthed. ‘What – is – that?’

‘It’s Florence’s beautiful wedding dress which she has extremely generously said I can wear on my wedding day.’

Kayla looks at me in horror but clamps her mouth shut when I widen my eyes at her.

‘Well’ – she swallows – ‘that is indeed very generous of you, Florence. Annie will look a right picture in it.’

Florence beams even more widely and smooths down one of the many lace swags on her precious dress. ‘I’ll leave it with you, dear, and I’ll be so proud when you wear it down the aisle. Right, I’m off to grab one of Maureen’s cupcakes before Roger has another one.’

‘Another one?’ scowls Kayla. ‘He promised me he hadn’t had any.’

‘What a scamp. He’s had at least two that I’ve seen.’

The second the door closes behind Florence, Kayla starts shaking with laughter. ‘That is a million times worse than any of the dresses at Wendy’s Wowzer Weddings.’ She’s shaking so much, orange squash is splashing in all directions.

‘Shush, Kayla, I don’t want Florence to hear you and don’t get your drink on the satin or she’ll kill you. It’s incredibly kind of her to lend me such a special dress.’

Kayla snorts. ‘You say special. I say hideous. Have you noticed the hoop? You’ll look like Little Bo Peep walking up the aisle in that and Josh will definitely do a runner. All you need is a crook on your arm and a couple of sheep for bridesmaids. The photos will be priceless.’

‘I know. But how can I not wear it without upsetting Florence?’

‘Just tell her you’d rather walk into church stark naked. You need to stop thinking about everyone else, Sunshine. You’re the one getting married so you get to be selfish for the whole day.’

‘OK but it’s not as though I’ve got anything else to wear.’

‘Anything else – and I mean anything – would be better than that,’ chortles Kayla before collapsing into more fits of giggles which is no help whatsoever.

---

After the rehearsal, Josh, Emily and Storm go to the pub but I’m tired and walk home with Florence’s dress over my arm. It weighs a ton – it must be all those ruffles.

The house is eerily quiet when I let myself in and switch on the lamp in the sitting room. It’s still light outside but the lamp casts a golden glow over Alice’s favourite chair where she’d sit when a storm blew in and watch sea spray plume into the air. Our windows are always streaked with salt on blowy days.

Alice would know what to do about Florence’s dress and how to avoid hurting her feelings. She knew everything about everyone in the village though she wasn’t always the most tactful of souls. Roger reckons she once told him he resembled one of his beer barrels from the side.

After carefully laying the dress across the back of the sofa, I sink onto the soft cushions and sit for a while thinking about my wedding. My lovely choir will never know how much their rescue plan means to me – and how pleased Alice would be with my last hurrah before leaving Salt Bay.

When the house is silent like this, I can almost feel her presence. Not her spirit, because all that supernatural stuff is too woo-woo for me. If ghosts were real, Mum would be haunting me right now and accusing me of ‘submitting to the patriarchy’ by getting married – though I know she’d like Josh.

Alice’s presence is more ethereal as though her vitality has leached into the stones of Tregavara House and she’s become part of the building. I just hope she’ll still be here after Toby has taken a sledgehammer to the place.