The Spark - Jules Wake Page 0,77

the disapproving twist of her lips reserved specifically for Shelley. ‘And do we have any idea of what is happening tomorrow? I do think it’s most odd. You’d have thought Gladys might have grown up a bit by now. It’s all so silly and infantile. I don’t know why she couldn’t have popped into a registry office and kept it civilised, instead of all this fuss. And expense. The train was nearly a hundred pounds.’

‘Yes, but wasn’t it nice travelling first class,’ soothed Aunty Lynn. ‘And the normal price would have been double, so we definitely got value for money.’

‘Well, at least I didn’t buy a new outfit. Wellington boots!’

‘I bought new festival wellies. I was hoping it might be a mini Glasto,’ said Shelley with a valiant attempt at being cheerful, but I could tell she wasn’t right. ‘I thought we might be glamping and she’d have Florence and the Machine belting out a few numbers.’

‘I think Gladys is more of the Rolling Stones era.’ Uncle Richard paused to take a sip of his beer. ‘Didn’t she say she’d once snogged Mick Jagger?’

‘Hmph, her and everyone else. That’s why his lips are that shape,’ said Mum tartly.

Sam and I sniggered. It was a very unMum-like comment. She glared at us before adding, ‘And Gladys does have a tendency to exaggerate.’

‘I suspect it will be a ceremony on the beach,’ said Aunty Lynn. ‘This house is in such a fabulous location, why wouldn’t you?’

‘Yes, but what sort of ceremony?’ asked Mum. ‘I don’t think your average vicar makes beach calls.’

‘Knowing Gladys, her vicar wouldn’t be very average,’ replied Richard.

‘Knowing Gladys, he’s probably been defrocked.’ Mum shuddered.

There was a tinkle as Alastair tapped at his beer glass. ‘Ladies, gents and others.’ Gladys stood next to him and they made an incongruous pair, especially as she topped him by several inches and in her frothy pink chiffon concoction looked rather like a strawberry ice cream sundae.

‘Oh, dear God,’ muttered Shelley.

‘Thank you all for coming to our nuptials.’ He linked arms with his bride-to-be and she beamed at everyone. ‘It’s grand to see you all here and we’d like to invite you to join us on the beach at o-nine-hundred tomorrow morning. Prompt start, and then we’ll see how it goes. In the meantime, enjoy yourselves tonight and cheers.’ He lifted his glass in toast.

‘And you can’t be late.’ Gladys strident voice rang out imperiously. ‘So if you’ve no head for booze, pack it in now. Dinner is served in the dining room.’

‘Well, that’s told us,’ said Shelley. ‘Why so bloody early?’

‘It could have been worse. I was worried it was going to be some pagan ceremony and we’d all be up at dawn,’ said Richard.

‘God only knows what she’s got planned,’ said my mother. ‘I’m relieved. Nine o’clock sounds quite civilised. So it can’t be too outlandish.’

That depended on your definition of outlandish, I thought as we all filed into the dining room for a buffet dinner.

Chapter Twenty

Beach or not, everyone had made an effort, and as the sun burned brightly in a brilliantly blue Cornish sky, the assembled crowd epitomised gay and colourful. Sam’s navy linen suit emphasised his lean hips and broad shoulders and contrasted nicely with my faithful peacock-blue silk dress, which flapped in this morning’s sea breeze. I refused to let it hold onto the bad memories of the last time I wore it, on our first date; I wasn’t able to afford a new frock and the ridiculous expense of this one meant it had to pay its way. I was a great believer in the principle of cost-per-wear, besides, I still felt good every time I put it on – and if we hadn’t been under strict time constraints it might very well have come off again. Sam had been in a playful mood that morning. I think we both felt a sense of lightness being away and off Victoria’s radar.

There was no sign of either Gladys or Alastair and everyone kept looking round.

‘Do you think they’re going to abseil down the cliff?’ asked Sam.

‘It wouldn’t surprise me,’ said Richard, eyeing the steep cliff face. ‘Not going to do much for a wedding dress, though.’

‘You think Gladys is going to be worried about something like that?’ asked Shelley.

‘Probably not. But I’d have thought Alastair would be here. Isn’t it traditional for the groom to be waiting for his bride?’

Apart from a small gazebo with a sound system, there were no other signs that anything remarkable was