Summer at the Little Wedding Shop by Jane Linfoot

Author:Jane Linfoot
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9780008190514
Publisher: HarperCollins Publishers
Published: 2017-04-03T04:00:00+00:00

Chapter 26

Monday, 1st May

At Rose Hill Manor: Irrigation and mistaken identity

‘So, there aren’t any more helicopters coming. There were only ever four.’

Kip doesn’t even have the grace to look apologetic as he delivers the news. As chief liaison guy, it was his job to find this out. The last one arrived hours ago.

Gobsmacked about covers how I feel. ‘So you’re saying I’ve spent the last six hours waiting for helicopters that didn’t exist?’ If there wasn’t a bride in the building, I’d really let rip. As it is, I’m keeping my voice to a low growl. ‘Right now, all that’s saving you is your chair, Kip. Lucky for you, I’ve had a damned comfy afternoon.’ It’s amazing how much work you can get done when you cut out distractions and interruptions. But I’m not about to tell him I’ve got through shedloads of the stuff, even if I have sorted out floral designs and sourced props for four of the off-the-peg style packages he was wanting.

‘The bridal party will be leaving soon. I’m happy for you to stay to see them off with me, but it’s also okay for you to slip away if you’d rather.’ Although he’s got his hands in his jacket pockets, like he’s completely chilled, he’s a lot paler, and gaunt around the cheekbones than he was this morning.

‘Great.’ As I push myself out of the most luxurious swivel chair in the world, I’m thinking more of watering my plants than rushing away. ‘I’ll leave by the terrace then.’ And there’s no reason at all for Kip to stand open mouthed like I’ve left him in the lurch. If he’d been in any way flexible, I’d have done my watering already. Just to show him I don’t give a fig, I get out my phone, and inadvertently flick straight onto Nicole’s pics of bridal lingerie tossed on a silk covered bed.

‘Bleurgh …’ It comes out before I can stop it.

Kip’s sigh is long suffering. ‘What’s wrong this time?’

Although I’m not happy at the drama queen implication, I can’t help smiling as I think what’s coming Kip’s way in August. ‘Nicole’s wedding-night underwear. Want a look?’

‘Hell, no.’ Result. His ‘appalled of Rose Hill’ face is all the compensation I need for my own shudder.

I’m also musing over Nicole’s previous shot. Captioned Bride-to-be shaping up, it’s a selfie with a tape measure pulled tight around her waist with a disgustingly teensy measurement on. And an unnerving similarity to Immie’s shape-up post. That has to be a coincidence. Doesn’t it?

‘If I can’t tempt you to a flash of Nicole’s stockings and suspenders, I’ll be on my way then.’ I grin as he winces again.

A few seconds later, I’m a free woman, hurrying towards the door into the walled garden. I know I’m in my suit, but so long as I’m careful, I can easily do the watering without getting dirty. We all know I detest the digging. And I’m growing seeds under extreme duress. If I’ve spent most of the day wishing I could be in the garden, it’s only a sign of the afternoon from hell.

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