Love at the Little Wedding Shop by the Sea - Jane Linfoot Page 0,25
a breather.’
Poppy shakes her head in mock despair. ‘We’re marginally better than cardboard cutouts. But we were available, we are here, and better still, everyone knows we’re flying the flag for Jess’s new Special Request service.’
‘And good luck to Mr T, I hope he finds himself the wedding planner he deserves.’ I held it in as we arrived, but now I care less. ‘He might find it hard, everyone decent will already be booked.’
‘Which is why he should have snapped you up when he had the chance.’ Poppy’s eyebrows move up. ‘You do know I saw him earlier?’
My stomach had no reason to drop like a high-speed lift. ‘Really!?’ With the hugest effort I yank my voice down so low I totally sound like I give no shits. Which is exactly the result I want. ‘What the hell’s he doing here?’
‘Same as everyone else except us – he must have been invited.’ Poppy pulls a face. ‘Sorry, I’d have said before, but I didn’t want to ruin your evening.’
‘Like I’d let any guy SPOIL MY NIGHT!’ It would be way more convincing if it wasn’t a shriek. I cover up that I’ve just done a scan right around the hall to check and failed to find him by moving on fast. ‘So, what’s Immie doing?’ I may be wrong, but beyond the cake table, she appears to be zig-zagging across the horizon between the bar and the jukebox.
Poppy’s eyebrows close together. ‘I’d say she’s in that happy place where she’s had enough beer to make her forget she can’t skate – and not enough to stop her legs working.’
I couldn’t have asked for a better diversion. ‘It’s wonderful what people can do when they lose their inhibitions. She’s just picked up a full tray of ice-cream sundaes too.’
‘Wonderful – or maybe not?’ Poppy’s face crumples. ‘Hold on tight, she’s heading this way!’
By some miracle, Immie is accelerating towards us heading straight for the car. But at the last minute she spins around, reverses, wedges her bottom neatly past the open car door and into the empty back seat. And as she sinks down her tray of sundaes comes to rest lightly on her knee.
‘Fancy footwork, or what? Roller skates and Rock Dance beer, what a combo!’
Poppy’s groaning under her breath. ‘Give me strength. She’s so out of practice with her drinking she’s totally off her face.’ Then she hangs onto the car wing mirror and edges forwards. ‘Let me take the tray, Immie.’
Immie lurches backwards into the car. ‘Like toad bollocks you will! These are ALL mine!’
Poppy’s wild eyes say it’s way worse than she thought, but her voice is soothing. ‘No one’s trying to steal your ice cream, Immie.’
Immie gives a snort. ‘Too right!’ A second later, who knows how, she’s back on her feet, tray in hand, sundae glasses still upright. ‘You’ll have to catch me first, good luck with your speed skating.’
From where she was standing Immie could have set off at three hundred and fifty different angles, and skated off into the oblivion of the crowd with no more risk than a splat of ice cream on a T-shirt, or at worst a bill for cleaning a couple of dresses from Iron Maidens down in the village. Except she doesn’t do that. Instead she sets off like she’s in an Olympic pursuit race. But worse still, she’s heading straight for the cake table.
It isn’t like there’s a choice. Either way, something’s going to get very broken here. I’d just rather it wasn’t the cake Poppy spent all week making. So I throw myself forwards and launch myself after Immie. I’m on skates, I’m out of control too, and none of this is precision judgement. But somehow, I’m able to draw level with Immie and hurl myself onto my back and into her path just short of the cake table. As her skates ram into my thigh, she throws her tray upwards and the sundae glasses rise and trace arcs in the air as they start to fall again. Immie’s body thumps down across me, then the sundae glasses and ice cream scoops come raining down on my chest and face.
Immie comes to first. ‘Thundering crab arses, Milla! What the hell are you playing at? You nearly demolished the cake there!’
I’ve got Immie’s full weight crushing my hips, her foil pompom is in my ear. And wiping a lump of ice cream out of my eyes is a lot less fun than it sounds. As for what