Love at the Little Wedding Shop by the Sea - Jane Linfoot Page 0,107
obviously thinking about something else, I might as well just mentally run it past myself. Just to try out how far I’ve come. Very quietly, in my head, I let him murmur the words:
Milla, if you’d like someone to bonk your brains out, for one time only, just say the word …
And my imaginary self is unexpectedly opening her mouth, about to say ‘Hell, yes! Thanks so much, that would be lovely.’
But before I can tell myself off for being so outrageous, shocking, and out of touch with reality – not to mention unprofessional – there’s a vibration.
Nic shakes away his daze, pushes his hand into the pocket of his denim jacket, and eyeballs me as he pulls out his phone. ‘Here we go … and finally … it’s Pixie!’
I close my mouth and force it into a really bright smile and make myself concentrate.
‘Hey up, Pix, how’s it going? Milla’s here. She can’t wait to say hello.’
As I watch her face on Nic’s phone screen, there’s a moment where she’s just like her picture. Then she moves and immediately she’s a living, breathing, talking, feeling person, with a real personality and an unlimited number of dimensions.
‘Hi Milla.’ She does a little finger wiggle to the camera then does a three-sixty swivel on her wheels, throws back her nut-brown waves, screws her face up, and groans. ‘It’s all happening so fast and I’ve no idea how I’m going to get through a whole day when all the focus is on me! I’m really not a limelight person, I’m much more of a team player.’
In two seconds flat, she wipes out three months of preconceptions and becomes a strong, determined woman who has the same dark grey eyes as Nic and who is having a minor wobble. As for her whirling around the floor, there’s very little to tell that she’s in a wheelchair and not an everyday executive office one.
I don’t stop to think I might be going through exactly the same for her. ‘Don’t worry, Pixie, most brides feel exactly the same as you.’
She puts her hands over her ears. ‘Go easy with the wedding jargon. Every time I hear the “B” word my tummy drops through the floor.’
Nic’s rolling his eyes. ‘Stop being such a drama queen.’ He turns to me. ‘Hang on in there, we might get some sense in a bit.’
And Nic’s changing in front of me too, getting new layers. Because here he is, kidding around with Pixie. And where before we’ve just assumed he must really love his sister because of the lengths he’s going to, now I’m watching the reality. How he is with his family isn’t something he can put on or pretend. Right in front of me, there’s the living proof of what a kind, deep, caring, genuine, funny, loving, tender guy he is.
Pixie wrinkles her nose. ‘So long as you don’t tell me anything in advance, I reckon I’ll be able to turn up on the day.’ When her face breaks into a grin, she has the same dimples as Nic. ‘I bet he’s driven you crazy with his prevaricating, Milla. Don’t take any shit and watch him like a hawk! Given half a chance, he’ll sail off into the sunset and leave us without a best man.’
Nic lets out a shout of protest. ‘I gave you my word that I’ll be in St Aidan until your big day is over.’ He turns to me. ‘And in case you’re worried about your parking permit, that’s safe too. Snow Goose will be here well into next year.’
It’s one small sentence, but the ripples from it set my mind racing. It isn’t until my body suddenly relaxes that I realise I’ve even been worried about the time when Nic will sail out of the harbour for good. It’s inevitable there will come a time when there’s a gap on the dock where the hull is and an empty space in the sky where Snow Goose’s mast and rigging should be. How it’s totally crazy that I’m really hoping it will be later rather than sooner.
As I pull my eyes back to Pixie, I can’t help laughing at how well she’s summed Nic up. ‘After four months racing around the whole of Cornwall, I reckon I’m getting the measure of him.’
Despite the time lag I can tell her eyes are twinkling. ‘It’s lucky he likes you so much, or we might have lost him already.’ She laughs. ‘You’re even prettier than I gathered.’