tip, Milla. If you’re hoping to change Bill’s mind at all, he’s at his happiest in the distillery.’
‘So now might be a good time?’ I spin around to the table, take another shot from the tap on my favourite juice urn and grab the last lime twist. ‘Okay, I’m on it.’
Poppy’s eyes are bright. ‘And I’ll come as backup.’
Three strides later we skid to a halt on the edge of the group of guys. I drag in a breath, screw up my courage, then reach up and tap Bill on the shoulder. ‘If you’ve got a moment, Bill, I’m Milla, I organise the wedding fairs where you’ll be showcasing your gin.’
Bill turns and smiles. ‘Right, great to meet you, Milla. I can talk you through the manufacturing process if you’d like?’
‘Lovely.’ I have two seconds to launch before he does. ‘I’m also Milla who wants to book the castle for a wedding – on behalf of my client, obviously. Actually, we’re really desperate – it’s so beautiful here.’ I’m splurging more than I’d planned.
He’s rubbing his jaw while his eyes narrow. ‘Let me level with you, Milla – my Christmas let was a nightmare.’ He gives the same kind of grimace he’d make if he sucked on one of Ivy’s lemon slices. ‘That’s the last time I’ll ever be blinded by pound signs.’ So at least that confirms why Nic can’t just wave his cheque book around and get what he wants.
I need to keep him talking. ‘It’s a shame to let one challenging client group put you off.’
Poppy’s giving me a discrete double thumbs up for that behind her cocktail.
Bill’s lips are tight. ‘Weddings are a big deal, there’s huge potential to let people down. And anyone who pays top dollar won’t hesitate to take you to the cleaners if things go wrong.’ He still sounds very raw. If only we’d come along six months earlier before he’d got his Christmas candles burned, we’d likely have swung it.
The remaining groups have both fanned out into half circles now, the talking has stopped and everyone’s openly listening in. From along the line of women, Immie waves her pint glass at him. ‘So what you’re saying, Bill, is that you can’t be arsed with this wedding of Milla’s!’
Bill shrugs. ‘I’d rather stick to making gin and serving stags.’
Nic’s brow wrinkles into a frown and as he steps towards Immie he lets out a squawk. ‘Hey, I know you! You’re the roller skate woman! What the hell are you doing here?’
Immie’s reaching up and prodding Nic in the chest. ‘Stop being a toad bollock, I could be about to save your arse here.’ She turns to Bill. ‘As for you – stop wimping out and open your mind for half a second …’
The trick with Immie is to keep her energy positive so I jump in quickly. ‘No offense, Bill, but what Immie is trying to say is that if she were here your bedrooms would run like clockwork.’
Now it’s Bill’s turn to frown at Immie. ‘Why the hell would she be in my bedrooms?’
I risk a little eyebrow wiggle. ‘She looks after the holiday lets at Daisy Hill Farm, they have loads of weddings a year there. I’m sure they’d be happy to help you out too.’
Bill’s staring at Immie. ‘Seriously?’
I’m smiling at Bill but, to be fair, I’m as surprised about how this is going as he is. It’s like I’ve reconnected with the same bit of me that grabbed the mic at Cally’s wedding. ‘Poppy, Rafe, and their team have won Cornwall’s Best Wedding Venue award … er … quite a few times now.’
Poppy’s beaming at me. ‘Absolutely true.’
I’m beaming. ‘So there’s your answer. If you want to host a wedding but lack the expertise, simply get the Daisy Hill guys over to manage the event for you.’
Bill’s staring at me. ‘It’s that simple?’
I’m grinning at Bill. ‘All the gain, none of the pain.’ I have no idea where that came from either, so I try for something less crass and more corporate. ‘It would certainly take the pressure off.’
Bill coughs. ‘What you’re forgetting is the castle is very old and prone to problems, like broken boilers and sticking door handles.’
I’m not going to let him back out over a doorknob, so I say what I’ve heard Poppy say so many times before. ‘They do weddings every day – when things go wrong, they simply find a new way forward.’
Poppy’s nodding too. ‘It’s often the things that don’t go