help me – all the time. You and Susie are always paying for stuff for me and you’re always buying Lily things.’
‘Yeah, yeah. And look at everything you’ve done for us. You helped me get this place and you designed all my flyers and publicity stuff, not to mention my website. You saved me an absolute fortune and that’s not including all the hours you helped out in here when I first started.’
‘That’s what friends do.’
‘Exactly. So, let’s not hear any more of this, “I owe you and Susie” nonsense. Susie’s business wouldn’t have survived without you either; your contacts and networking have kept “Beckleston Bridal Belles” in monetary wedded bliss. What time are you expecting the Coopers to bring Lily home?’
Becky glanced at the antique French ormolu clock on the mantelpiece; it was one of the few family heirlooms she had – so far – managed to keep. It had been an anniversary present from her father to her mother and it reminded Becky of happier times. ‘About four, they said. They’ll have a cup of tea and then head off home.’
‘God, if they’re staying for tea, you’ll need a drink. I’ll bring the big umbrella and pick you up in an hour. Don’t argue. A Sunday roast and a bottle of wine is what we all need. I’ll call Susie and get her to meet us there too. See you soon.’ And with that, Jess rang off.
CHAPTER SIX
‘I need to talk to you Max,’ Margaret called out as he dashed in from the rain.
He poked his saturated head around the door. ‘Can it wait until I’ve had a shower and put on some dry clothes? It’s like the sky’s turned into an ocean out there. I’m sure it doesn’t rain like this in London.’
‘Good heavens! You’re soaked through! Of course it can wait. Go and have a shower before you catch your death. I’ll pour you a whisky.’
‘Thanks. See you in fifteen minutes.’ He raced towards the stairs, leaving little pools of water in his wake.
Exactly fifteen minutes later, Max trotted back down. He entered the sitting room, a smaller room towards the back of the house and collapsed onto a sumptuous sofa in front of a large stone fireplace, containing a roaring fire.
‘What a day,’ he said, letting out a sigh and taking the glass of whisky Margaret handed him. ‘Thanks. Now, what do you want to talk to me about?’ He took a large swig and smiled as the liquid warmed him.
Margaret ambled over to a wing-back chair diagonally opposite him and sat down, nursing a glass of sherry. She cleared her throat.
Max eyed her thoughtfully. ‘Is something wrong?’
‘What? Oh no. No ... nothing’s wrong. In fact, something rather good has happened.’ Margaret gulped down the contents of her glass.
‘Really? So, are you knocking back the sherry in celebration then? I’ll get you another.’ He got to his feet and marched to the drinks cabinet. He poured them both refills, passed the glass of sherry to his mother then resumed his seat. After a few minutes of silence he said, ‘Are you planning to tell me, or do you want me to guess?’
Margaret gave him a nervous-looking smile. ‘I don’t want you to get cross and if you really don’t like the idea, then, of course, I’ll call back and say no, but personally, I think it would be rather jolly and it would be lovely for our first one to be someone we know, especially someone so nice and ... and easy-going and ...’ She gulped back the second glass.
‘Mother! What’s going on? Our first what?’
‘Wedding darling. Our first wedding. I’ve just had a booking for August.’
Max blinked several times in surprise. ‘Well. That’s great – isn’t it? Although, are you sure the place will be ready by then? There’s still a lot to do. Is seven months enough time to get it all done – well six really. Beginning or end of August?’
‘The end. The Bank Holiday weekend to be precise. She wants to arrive on Friday and have the wedding on the Sunday.’
‘Okay,
‘Yeah, yeah. And look at everything you’ve done for us. You helped me get this place and you designed all my flyers and publicity stuff, not to mention my website. You saved me an absolute fortune and that’s not including all the hours you helped out in here when I first started.’
‘That’s what friends do.’
‘Exactly. So, let’s not hear any more of this, “I owe you and Susie” nonsense. Susie’s business wouldn’t have survived without you either; your contacts and networking have kept “Beckleston Bridal Belles” in monetary wedded bliss. What time are you expecting the Coopers to bring Lily home?’
Becky glanced at the antique French ormolu clock on the mantelpiece; it was one of the few family heirlooms she had – so far – managed to keep. It had been an anniversary present from her father to her mother and it reminded Becky of happier times. ‘About four, they said. They’ll have a cup of tea and then head off home.’
‘God, if they’re staying for tea, you’ll need a drink. I’ll bring the big umbrella and pick you up in an hour. Don’t argue. A Sunday roast and a bottle of wine is what we all need. I’ll call Susie and get her to meet us there too. See you soon.’ And with that, Jess rang off.
CHAPTER SIX
‘I need to talk to you Max,’ Margaret called out as he dashed in from the rain.
He poked his saturated head around the door. ‘Can it wait until I’ve had a shower and put on some dry clothes? It’s like the sky’s turned into an ocean out there. I’m sure it doesn’t rain like this in London.’
‘Good heavens! You’re soaked through! Of course it can wait. Go and have a shower before you catch your death. I’ll pour you a whisky.’
‘Thanks. See you in fifteen minutes.’ He raced towards the stairs, leaving little pools of water in his wake.
Exactly fifteen minutes later, Max trotted back down. He entered the sitting room, a smaller room towards the back of the house and collapsed onto a sumptuous sofa in front of a large stone fireplace, containing a roaring fire.
‘What a day,’ he said, letting out a sigh and taking the glass of whisky Margaret handed him. ‘Thanks. Now, what do you want to talk to me about?’ He took a large swig and smiled as the liquid warmed him.
Margaret ambled over to a wing-back chair diagonally opposite him and sat down, nursing a glass of sherry. She cleared her throat.
Max eyed her thoughtfully. ‘Is something wrong?’
‘What? Oh no. No ... nothing’s wrong. In fact, something rather good has happened.’ Margaret gulped down the contents of her glass.
‘Really? So, are you knocking back the sherry in celebration then? I’ll get you another.’ He got to his feet and marched to the drinks cabinet. He poured them both refills, passed the glass of sherry to his mother then resumed his seat. After a few minutes of silence he said, ‘Are you planning to tell me, or do you want me to guess?’
Margaret gave him a nervous-looking smile. ‘I don’t want you to get cross and if you really don’t like the idea, then, of course, I’ll call back and say no, but personally, I think it would be rather jolly and it would be lovely for our first one to be someone we know, especially someone so nice and ... and easy-going and ...’ She gulped back the second glass.
‘Mother! What’s going on? Our first what?’
‘Wedding darling. Our first wedding. I’ve just had a booking for August.’
Max blinked several times in surprise. ‘Well. That’s great – isn’t it? Although, are you sure the place will be ready by then? There’s still a lot to do. Is seven months enough time to get it all done – well six really. Beginning or end of August?’
‘The end. The Bank Holiday weekend to be precise. She wants to arrive on Friday and have the wedding on the Sunday.’
‘Okay,
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