Friday 15th December
At Brides by the Sea: Fur coats and twinkly surprises
‘Breakfast, eaten … batteries, cameras, memory cards, packed … whistle and bells at the ready?’ Rory’s standing by the desk in the White Room, ticking items off on his fingers. It’s the morning of the double wedding, and if he’s eager to be off, it’s because he’s got to run me over to the Manor, then come back to St Aidan to catch up with the groom’s party, who are having breakfast down at the Surf Shack. Since I met Sophie and Saffy yesterday when they came in to pick up their dresses, I’m actually more worried than ever. Ordinary would be easier to cope with. Two gorgeous blondes, with more swishy hair than on the L’Oréal advert, and the longest legs on the beach would be scary at the best of times. When you’ve got to take their pictures of them both getting married, it’s mind blowing.
‘All done.’ Somehow my heartbeat is too shallow and fast to manage anything more than a whisper. ‘Although do we need the bells?’ I didn’t even think about using them at the Lifeboat Station. Every ounce of weight we can cut down on counts over a day as long as this one’s going to be.
‘We’ll take them.’ That’s my protest silently overruled then. ‘There’s even a dusting of snow back in the village. It couldn’t be more perfect. So in that case …’ He looks at his phone to check the time.
I’m willing anything to happen to put off the moment when we have to leave for the Manor. So when the shop door slams and the bells on the Christmas tree in the hall jingle I’m giving silent cheers. A second later, as a caped figure powers past the Louis Quatorze chairs so fast the dresses on the rail are flapping in her wake, I make a quick readjustment. That was me wishing for anything. Except this.
‘Marilyn? Are you here to see Poppy?’ If Poppy had suspected a visit from Marilyn, she’d definitely be here. Too late I remember my shop manners. ‘And wonderful to see you, obviously.’
‘Rory, what a lovely surprise to see my favourite boy here.’ Marilyn pushes straight past me and practically sweeps her favourite off his feet as she clamps her lips to his cheek. Then she steps back and begins to stroke his hair, her bracelets clinking. ‘I hope you’re taking good care of that poorly head of yours? And how’s your wine business and your lager making? I hear you’ve created Seth some all of his own?’
Rory finally seizes a gap to reply. ‘We’re certainly doing Seth and Katie their own extra- special beer labels for the wedding.’ Having sprinkled enough sparkle on that, he springs back to a safe distance behind the table and turns to me. ‘Seth and I go way back. So how can we help you today, Marilyn?’ If he’s stealing my lines, I’m not about to complain.
Marilyn leans in as close as the tabletop will allow, talking in a dramatic, confidential whisper. ‘I need to borrow Katie’s dress for half an hour, to organise a last minute surprise. There are some darling fur jackets and I want to see which goes best.’
Knowing the unwelcome shocks Marilyn’s previous surprises usually turn out to be, I’m hesitating. ‘I think I’d need to check that with Sera or Poppy first. And they’re not here yet.’
As Marilyn draws in a breath her nostrils flare and her light purr changes to a growl. ‘I’ve already paid for the dress. Personally. In full. I fail to see how I need anyone’s permission to take it where the hell I want when it’s actually my property.’ She fumbles in her bag, then slams a piece of paper on the desk. ‘Here’s the receipt. You can’t argue with that.’
Rory’s pointing at his phone. ‘If we could possibly speed this along? We do have a wedding to get to, Berry.’
As Marilyn butts in, she’s stabbing the air with her finger. ‘My car’s blocking the mews. No one’s going anywhere until I have my dress.’ No pressure there, then.
‘Okay.’ Put like that, I’m not sure what else I can do. ‘I’ll get it now.’
I dash into the room next to the kitchen, where it’s hanging in its cover, ready for steaming, and check the label, and that it’s the right one.
As I whoosh back into the White Room Marilyn’s beatific smile returns. ‘Good girl. Well done for that, Berry.’
I have to correct her. ‘Sorry, I’m not Berry, I’m Holly.’
She’s beaming as she wrenches the hanger out of my hand. ‘But Berry suits your rosy complexion and shiny nose so much better. Don’t worry, I’ll have it back in a twinkling.’ And a moment later she’s stamping out past the Christmas tree, dress bag flying behind her.
As the shop door slams shut, Rory picks up the bags. ‘Right. Lights, camera, action?’
I put my hands to my face, cursing myself for skimping on the Red Alert layers. ‘Maybe I need more …?’
He cuts in. ‘No time for toothpaste today. Or icing. You’re fabulous just as you are. Come on, let’s run.’
As the crisp morning breeze off the sea blows into my face as we step out onto the Mews, I can’t help smiling when I notice the scarlet lipstick splash smeared across Rory’s cheek. Nothing to do with Rory’s throwaway compliment either. As far as that goes, he’s full of bollocks. End of story. It’ll just make a change for me not to have the reddest face in the car for once.