slide down towards a glistening turquoise and silver sea.
I wrinkle my nose. ‘I’d be out of business if they didn’t.’ Then I laugh, because I have to be honest. ‘We’d be in trouble for Pixie’s wedding if you hadn’t found so much to like at The Potting Shed.’ As we’re finally ticking off the outstanding choices, I’m determined to make the most of Nic’s decisive mood.
Originally, we’d planned an evening meet-up over pancakes on Snow Goose, to fit in with when Pixie was free for a call. But as Jagger’s were doing Gin’s Up! Tuesday we switched to here hoping Nic might have another lightbulb moment and decide about drinks.
As for Jagger’s, the downsides are the teenage clientele, the migraine-inducing red and purple Perspex tables and chairs and the giant signs announcing the two-for-one Sex-on-the-Beach happy hour. So long as you can live with those, the cocktails and the sea views from the deck are excellent.
‘So what’s Pixie like?’
He sends me a wink. ‘Fun, lively, nervous about the wedding – a lot like me, I suppose.’
‘What, stubborn and impossible?’ I laugh as I think of him as my original nightmare client. When he’s properly relaxed there are crinkles at the corners of his eyes when he smiles, and despite the stress of putting a wedding together I’m seeing them more and more often.
His grin widens. ‘Not anymore. These days I’m very easy to please.’
And he’s right again, but this time I really don’t mind because after three months of progressing more slowly than a sea snail, we’re finally storming ahead in every area. Even the theme’s sorted. Nic’s still in denial about having one, but for everyone else, it’s Seashore Castle Rainbow Garden.
I peer in at the herb sprigs in my Rosemary and Grapefruit Comet and pick up my jar. ‘Cheers then, Nicolson. Here’s to lots more decisions and a lovely wedding.’ We’ve each been taking a different choice of cocktail, to get through the maximum number on the board.
Nic lifts his Cockle Shell Gimlet. ‘Back at you, Ms Vanilla. They sell these in pitchers as well as glasses, if you’d like to go large. Having met Ben, I reckon he’d drive most normal people to hit the bottle.’ His smile fades. ‘Not judging, but how did an amazing woman like you end up with him, Milla? Unless you’ve been hiding a frantic hand-washing obsession from me, you two can’t have had much in common.’
Obviously, I’m glossing over the compliments. But I’m so surprised by his directness that instead of telling him to butt out, I’m replying. ‘I met Ben after I went to Bristol when my mum died. We packed up the rented cottage where we’d lived our whole lives and I went there to be near my brothers.’
His fingers are closing around mine. ‘It must have been awful.’
I stare into the distance to where the shimmer of the water smudges into the sky. ‘At first I went out all night, every night, to take away the pain. By the time I got together with Ben, I was partied out. But I still felt as if I was drifting without an anchor.’ I’m blinking. ‘You’d have had to see our cottage to understand how secure and enveloping it was – thrumming to the soundtrack of Mum’s Greatest Hits collections, with all her vibrant colours. And, despite the chaos, there’d always be her latest hotpot concoction bubbling on the stove, her jam tarts steaming from the oven …’
There’s such warmth in his eyes as he looks at me. ‘I can almost smell the pastry from here.’
I’m so grateful, because him buying into this makes it feel less like it’s lost forever. And of everyone I’ve ever met, Nic’s the one person I’ve found who makes me feel comfortable talking about Mum, because he seems so interested and in tune with what he hears. ‘She made Bakewell tarts to die for. That hot raspberry jam and sticky sponge … I wish you could have tasted it.’
His enthusiasm is so real. ‘Me too. I’m gutted that I missed meeting her.’
And so am I, even though I have no idea why. ‘She’d have loved anyone who’ll dance to Jon Bon Jovi.’ I drag in a breath. ‘We had this wonderful feeling of family and belonging. Her being ill and us being homebound made that stronger still. It took years to come to terms with the shock of losing her, but once I did I was desperate to recreate that home all over again