Love at the Little Wedding Shop by the Sea - Jane Linfoot Page 0,29
our cottage was, there’s the same surprise I always feel as it slides by. This is where I spent all my time until I was twenty-one, and yet apart from still being friends with Poppy and Immie, there’s very little trace now that we were ever here at all.
But one flash of those familiar grey-stone house fronts with their small-paned sash windows is enough to bring the memories rushing back. How they were pretty much all we saw for the years we were housebound. How the world shrank to the size of our front room as my mum was less able to do things. How determined and full of fight my mum was to begin with. How by the end that strength had ebbed into mute acceptance.
‘Everything okay, Milla?’
I jump as Nic’s deep voice penetrates my daze. ‘Fine. Just hoping you’ll like what’s coming next.’
As we leave the village behind and roll down the lane towards the farm entrance, there’s a tingle zithering down my back as the hand-painted signs come into view. Finding lovely things to say about Poppy’s venue won’t be hard at all.
Something about doing this now brings it all back to me. There is a poignancy to it all. All those bursting feelings of optimism and hope I had when I first had an engagement ring on my finger and started to search for a venue. How naive and young and hopeful I was back then. I try to forget the sting and make myself upbeat again to launch into my pitch.
‘So, Daisy Hill Farm! In summer the pasture bursts with flowers, ox-eye daisies and buttercups waft in the wind.’ There should still be a few left by July. ‘Whether you go for a formal marquee or a laid-back tipi vibe, you won’t find anywhere more beautiful for a meadow wedding.’ I’m giving silent cheers, because I didn’t let Poppy down at all with that.
Nic sends me a sheepish look. ‘Sorry, I should have said earlier – definitely no fields.’
My stomach drops so far it hits the road, but I make my beam bright. ‘My fault, I should have checked.’ And now I will. ‘So are we actually ruling out everything farm-related, or just big expanses of grass?’
The face he pulls wouldn’t fill anyone with hope. ‘We may as well see the rest now we’re here.’
As I drive up the cobbled courtyard past the farmhouse and pull to a halt by the picturesque stone barns and cluster of holiday cottages at the top of the slope, I’m hoping Poppy’s got some baking waiting in the kitchen. I know my initial expectations were maybe too high, but when it’s going downhill this fast I’ll definitely be needing a buttercream fix.
As the van doors clang closed behind us, a gust of freezing air wafts up my skirt and makes me wish I’d chosen something thicker than this flimsy crepe tea dress. ‘Fingers crossed, it should be a lot warmer in July.’
He gives a grunt. ‘Let’s hope so.’
Today I’ve put on my boots with the highest heels, so I’m at least three inches more impressive than I was on Saturday, even if I’m staggering a bit. Mostly I’m trying not to catch the heels in the cracks between the pavers, but there’s still time to take in the lovely grey-painted windows as I wobble towards the Wedding Barn. Poppy’s told us to help ourselves, so I push my shoulder against the huge oak entrance door and shove hard. As I lead the way into a space as big as a cathedral I pause to give Nic a chance to take it all in.
‘It’s equally magical filled with fairy lights or flowers, perfect for a surfer theme or a transformation to a ski resort.’
Until the break-up I’d have been literally gushing here, now I’m having to force myself. But it’s worth pushing myself, because a wedding here would work well for all of us. For Poppy, to get a booking. For Nic, because there would be so many of us around to look after him. And for me, because it would get me off the hook so neatly.
He blows through his teeth. ‘It’s a shame about those cobbles.’
And that came from left field to surprise me. ‘The ones outside?’
He nods. ‘They’re way too rustic, you could barely walk on them. Sorry, but we can’t have that.’ It’s not much, but the wrinkles in his brow say the rest.
‘So that’s another straight “no”?’ I take in another nod and kick myself