Undertaking Love Page 0,96

arms over the top of it and narrowed her eyes at Marla.

‘I’ve always loved that dress. I’ll never be skinny again,’ she groused, eyeing Marla’s emerald green original seventies Biba dress.

‘Rubbish. You can borrow it for the christening,’ Marla laughed.

The dress had called out to her from a vintage shop window in New York a few years back and she’d fallen for its charms, despite the fact that the scoop neck displayed more cleavage than she was used to and the Lurex material clung to her rib cage. But the colour suited her hair, and the silver sparkle shot through it added enough pizzazz to give her the perfect excuse to wear her silver salsa dancing sandals.

Since she’d opened the chapel, it had become her go-to dress for their seventies-themed weddings, of which there were a surprising number. Abba had a lot to answer for. She’d played up her eyes with smoky green shadows and kohl pencil that morning, and voila, the chapel had itself a bona fide seventies landlady.

‘Sherry!’

Cecilia trilled as she tottered along the aisle in a gold lamé dress with a tray of schooner glasses balanced in her hands. She loved spending Christmas in England, and felt strongly that sherry was an integral part of the festivities.

Jonny helped himself to one of the glasses and poured its contents into the nearest plant pot.

‘Sherry is for coffin dodgers.’

He arched his brows in challenge at Cecilia and reached behind the lectern for his secret bottle of Jack Daniels.

‘What?’ he shrugged, round-eyed and innocent. ‘It’s my communion wine.’

Jonny didn’t have a religious bone in his body, but he was more than happy to cherry pick theological traditions to suit his needs. Those that involved alcohol, mostly.

Emily took the glass of orange juice from Cecilia’s tray.

‘Just leave me here until I’ve had the baby. I can’t get up.’

‘Not long now, sweetie.’ Jonny stood behind her and massaged her shoulders.

Emily sighed and leaned back against him. ‘You have magic hands.’

‘You should see the rest of me, darlin’,’ he muttered with a suggestive wiggle of his fingers.

‘Err, I don’t think so,’ Emily laughed.

‘Me neither, actually,’ Johnny cackled. ‘You’d never look at poor old Tom in the same light again.’

He winked and knocked back the rest of his JD, then glanced across at Marla.

‘Ready, boss?’

Marla nodded and cast an apologetic smile at her mother as she replaced her untouched glass of sherry back on the tray.

‘Sorry, mom. Jonny and I better dash if we’re going to get those glitter balls back to the hire company. Someone from the County Hotel is collecting them at four for their Christmas day celebrations.’

She nodded towards the stack of glittering orbs lined up by the chapel door. Jonny flung his full-length military coat on and turned the collar up as he went out into the snow to load them into the car.

Marla passed the chapel keys to her mother.

‘You just need to lock the front door, the back’s already bolted. I’ll see you at home in a couple of hours.’

She dropped a kiss on her mother’s cheek and turned to Emily.

‘Happy Christmas, Em. Give Tom a kiss from me.’

She leaned down and hugged her friend carefully around her bump.

‘Have fun tomorrow. Last one with just the two of you.’

Emily held on tight. ‘You try to have fun, too, okay?’

She looked up at Marla through suspiciously damp lashes.

‘Just go home and relax. You shouldn’t even be here.’

Emily had remained steadfast in her refusal to slow down, even though the baby was due in just a few weeks. She laughed off Marla’s concerns and patted her bump.

‘I will. This turkey’s almost cooked.’

An icy blast hit Marla as she stepped outside onto the slippery path. She snuggled her chin down into her cashmere scarf and picked her way through the fresh snow to the car as Jonny loaded up the boot with the disco balls.

Inside, she whacked the heaters on full blast and blew on her frozen fingers. The snow on the windscreen melted away, revealing the desolate, boarded-up funeral parlour across from them. It looked particularly sorry for itself against the pretty backdrop of the village snow scene, with the charmingly ramshackle fairy lights strung from lamppost to lamppost. The funeral parlour cowered, as if it had no business being there; much the same way as its owner had felt at the end, thanks to Marla.

She hadn’t laid eyes on Gabe since the day she’d thrown his love back in his face, but Ruth the florist had reliably informed her