Love at the Little Wedding Shop by the Sea - Jane Linfoot Page 0,93

at Cockle Shell Castle.

Winkles, sea foam and men with muscles.

‘You can’t make a booking with Casper just because he hoovers your camper.’

It’s Nic, and I can’t believe it’s late afternoon and he’s still talking about this.

We’ve spent the afternoon testing the castle by going around in two ancient wheelchairs Bill had in his coach house store – circling the rooms, wheeling ourselves in and out, through every door, manoeuvring, noting every lump, bump and flooring transition, every unsuitable area to be avoided. We’ve made lists of where temporary ramps need to be added and sorted out which bathrooms and bedrooms work best.

In fact, as Nic instinctively picked up on during that first day we visited, the castle is a natural fit for accessibility because of the wide doorways and large living spaces and the spectacular lack of steps on the ground floor. And when Bill was doing the restorations, the council insisted that the accommodation included a downstairs bedroom and bathroom suitable for wheelchair use, so that’s the bridal suite sorted. And, unusually for accessible accommodation, this room has wonderful views straight out across the bay rather than the car park.

Then we met up with Bill’s dad, Keef, and his silver surfer friends, who’ve offered to construct a boardwalk to extend the solid garden paths on through the dunes and right down onto the hard sand so that will be wheelchair-friendly too.

And now we’re walking back to St Aidan the same way we came, along the beach. But on the way back we’ve got some extra special people with us. Merwyn is here, without his coat, because the late spring sun’s unseasonably warm today, but with a snazzy blue and red checked necktie, because that’s the kind of doggy fashion-icon he is.

And we’re also looking after Abby, Bill’s daughter, who’s visiting from London, who’s wearing yellow spotty wellies and a red body warmer. And due to being on the beach we’ve used my scarf to hitch up the long, flowing, Frozen dress that she refuses to take off, to keep it out of the shallows when she dashes in and out of the waves. As the wind blows off the sea and wraps the turquoise blue tulle skirt tight around her calves, with her long dark plait and her sea-glass bangles she looks more like a mermaid than a princess from a snow kingdom.

When we first arrived at the castle Abby was perched on a high stool at the kitchen island, quietly colouring while Bill cleared up the baking they’d been doing together. Blueberry muffins – delicious to graze on as we worked too. But the second Nic offered Abby a ride in his wheelchair, she ditched her rainbow felt pens and clambered onboard, whooping as he did wheelies and handbrake turns.

Then because she’s one of those truly delightful kids who spreads her favours around all the adults, she insisted that I shouldn’t miss out on my turn with her either. And as she’s also enjoying having Ivy around, being a savvy six-year-old who knows exactly what she wants, the minute she found we were heading back to where Ivy would be finishing work, she hitched a lift on the walking bus back to St Aidan to meet up with her.

After filling our pockets with equal amounts of shells and pebbles and doing some writing in the sand, she and Merwyn run off to dodge the rushes of foam as they sweep up the beach, which gives Nic the perfect opening to hark back to this morning and Casper’s cleaning.

I shrug. ‘Casper found a nifty way to my heart and you’re getting the benefit too, why all the protest?’

Nic’s come to a sudden halt and he’s staring at me very hard. ‘Has he offered to sleep with you?’

My eyes go wide, and the shock has me shouting. ‘No! Totally not – it was only lunch and the van-clean.’ Not that it would be any of Nic’s business if he had.

‘At least that’s a relief.’ Nic blows out his cheeks. ‘But, in my expert opinion, I wouldn’t trust him an inch with the wedding.’

Now I’m the one who has to protest. ‘It’s not fair to discount him just because he’s young. People must have supported you when you were starting out.’

Nic rubs his nose. ‘It’s not his youth, it’s his entitled attitude I object to. And you must have heard how ageist he is?’

I allow myself a mental eye roll then go in to tease him. ‘Might you be a teensy