The Little Wedding Shop by the Sea

‘Thanks for that.’ He lets out a low laugh as he backs across the cobbles. ‘Anything else I can help with, you know where to find me.’

‘You’ve already done more than enough.’

But Poppy’s hopping up and down, her eyes popping. ‘We’re serving free cakes and cocktails at Brides by the Sea …’ she glances at her watch ‘… any time around now. Up the hill, and turn right into the mews. If you’d like to come you’re very welcome?’

‘The wedding shop?’ For a moment his eyes light up, but then he shakes his head. ‘Sorry, there’s somewhere else I need to be.’

‘But – but – but …’

I can see Poppy’s going to push this, so I jump in. ‘We totally understand. Fireworks and cheating the parking wardens, that’s more than enough excitement for one day.’ Quite apart from never wanting to see him again, there’s no way I want to have to stare across a room at him knocking back pitchers of Sex on the Beach. In the same way that both Chris Hemsworth or Hugh Jackman are sizzling but you might not necessarily want them dangled in front of you in the same room, especially if you weren’t in the best place in your life to take advantage. I mean, every woman has her limits. And I think I’ve found mine.

His lips are curving into a smile. ‘In that case, I won’t say see you later.’

That’s good for me. I call after him, ‘In that case, neither will I.’

Poppy’s leaning her bum on the end of the van, watching him disappear into the shadows. ‘From the grin on your face, we can safely say that was instant gratification?’

I’m laughing. ‘Hell yes. Those permits are like gold dust. Mr Snow Goose just saved me from two weeks of parking nightmares.’

Poppy’s shouting. ‘That’s not what I mean, and you know it!’ She lowers her voice again. ‘But you do feel like you made that whole new “somewhere over the rainbow” start?’

I’m shaking my head now too. ‘Pops, it was twenty seconds …’

She’s not letting this go. ‘It was SO closer to a minute!’

‘As if a few seconds could change anything.’

‘But it has, hasn’t it?’ Her stare is so intense it’s like she’s peering into my head. ‘Tell me what you’re thinking!’

Phoebe stole my fiancé, and now they have a baby. Sure, my heart was banging so hard the van was shaking just before, but it’s going to take more than one kiss to mend my broken life. Not that I want to go back to serving coffee. It’s just that now weddings are trigger points for me rather than my destination happy place. In the long term, for the sake of my sanity, I could do with a change of direction. Ideally, I need a career change.

But I’m staying totally quiet on all of that for now. ‘I’m thinking, if we don’t leave in the next ten seconds, you’re going to have some very impatient cocktail customers.’

She’s laughing. ‘And I’m thinking some time in St Aidan is exactly what you need to shake you up and turn you around.’

I have to say, as we hurry up the steep, winding street towards the shop, my heart is pounding in a way that has to be down to more than us racing up a killer of a hill. I can’t remember when I last felt this alive.

Chapter 2

Friday, Valentine’s Day.

Brides by the Sea, St Aidan.

Cranberries and camper vans.

‘So what can I tempt you with? Tie-me-up-tie-me-down? Hanky-panky? A Kiss on the Lips?’

Half an hour after Poppy and I arrive at the shop and I slosh drinks into glasses from tall glass jugs, any inner howling in my head is being drowned out by a room full of revellers. And in case anyone thinks this is me channelling my inner sex-goddess, I’m shouting about the delights of the Valentine’s cocktails on offer.

With every group of guests who push their way in from the cobbled mews outside, the salt-laden gusts are blowing in straight off the sea, catching the chandeliers, making their crystals flash, ruffling the chiffon on the snowy dresses beneath the hanging strings of paper hearts and tiny studded fairy lights in the window. At one time this would have had my heart racing too, now it just gives me an ache in the pit of my stomach. But obviously I do my best to hide that.

As another wave of people unwrapping their scarves walks in, I turn to Poppy who’s next to me behind the drinks table. ‘Where are they all coming from?’

Poppy laughs. ‘I told you, St Aidan Singles Club events are huge. And we’re dishing out free stuff so everyone will call in here. As Jess says, it’s never too early to bring a single person aspiring to be part of a couple to a wedding shop.’

It’s no surprise. This is the kind of long, hard-nosed game Jess plays. In her eyes every unattached adult downing Poppy’s complimentary cocktails and cupcakes tonight is a potential bride or groom down the line. It’s the same determination Jess had when she came here fourteen years ago with a divorce settlement and an idea to sell flowers from one tiny room in the basement. And we can all see how well that turned out.

Poppy laughs again. ‘The customers are only meant to be here for long enough to get a glimpse inside the shop. Don’t worry, they’ll be off to the next stop at the Hungry Shark before you can say Love on the Rocks.’

I don’t need to worry too much about what I’m shouting from the chalkboard menu either, because I’m only doing this for two minutes while Jess grabs some more mint sprigs and whooshes some potential husbands-to-be upstairs for a quick look at the Groom Room. My real allocated job here is much more my thing – taking Polaroid pictures of happy couples on the loveseat that’s nestled in the corner by the fitting room. This is so when the customers sober up tomorrow, they’ve got something to remind them to shop at Brides by the Sea when the time comes. And so when they write their names and emails on the back of the pictures we keep, the shop gets to grow the customer contacts list.

This is how it always is with Phoebe and our wedding fairs too. She’s our queenly front-of-house figurehead, like the swan gliding above the water. Meanwhile, I’m the frantic swan feet, rushing around out of sight making things work. But, as Phoebe’s fond of saying, that way we both play to our strengths.

Poppy’s swishing her blonde ponytail, ramming cherries onto sticks like there’s no tomorrow. ‘Blame Jess for the cocktails, she got a bit carried away. Any other day, it’s Prosecco all the way, so the spills don’t show.’ As Poppy’s been the shop’s wedding cake maker for ten years, the whole town knows how delicious her baking is. It’s no surprise there’s a scramble for her cupcake towers with their mouthwatering swirls of pastel buttercream and heart-shaped sprinkles.

I nod at her as I brush the cupcake crumbs off my boob shelf. ‘You can spill anything you like on me. These sequins are very forgiving – I’ll just wipe them clean.’

Poppy laughs. ‘You make a very cute cherub, even though I say it myself.’

I’m smoothing down the pale apricot mini-jumpsuit I borrowed from the bridesmaids’ sale rail this afternoon. Dressing me as a cherub was Poppy’s attempt to cheer me up, and as the baby news hadn’t hit then, I was happy to go along with it. As for the rest of what I’m wearing, it goes downhill from the all-over sequins. Looking back, it was one of those times when going wild got the better of us. I’ve got an oversized cupid’s bow wedged across my boobs. I also have wings, a sling full of arrows, and laurel leaves stuck in my hair. Truly, don’t ask me where the laurel comes in.

I pick up another two jugs and wave them at the sea of padded jackets in front of us. ‘Anyone for a Screw on the Drive or a Heart Attack? And the cupcakes are lavender, white chocolate, and vanilla buttercream.’ I grab another two for myself and mumble at Poppy as I pop one in my mouth. ‘Bite-sized cakes are so practical when you’re serving.’

As she leans towards me, she’s waving a tissue. ‘Two things – first, there’s lipstick in your ear.’

I let out a groan as she wipes it off. ‘How the hell did that get there?’

‘We both know the answer to that.’ She lets her grin go. ‘And second – on the same subject – the guy from Snow Goose just walked in.’

‘WHAT?!’ My gulp is big enough to suck in the whole cupcake I’m holding. Then the paper case hits the back of my throat and next thing I know I’m choking then sneezing the whole lot into Poppy’s well-placed tissue. She hands me a second one so I can wipe the last of the crumbs off my eyebrows. On Phoebe’s scale of misdemeanours, this would get a similar score to vomming on my feet. I swear, I only did that twice, and never in front of our bridal customers.

The good bit tonight is that at the crucial moment I managed to drop to my knees so the worst has been hidden behind the bar table. But it leaves me looking up at Poppy.

She’s talking down to me through clenched teeth. ‘Don’t look now …’ which is completely unnecessary as I’ve no chance of a view ‘… but he’s flying this way …’ her eyes are as big as flower buckets ‘… and the eagle – er, goose – has landed …’

I can keep quiet and let Poppy do her worst up above, or I can stand up and do this for myself. I shake my fingers through the dangly bits of my hair in the hope of a bit of volume to hide behind and pop my head up over the table edge.

‘Hey! I thought you were going elsewhere?’ Listen to me! I sound as up-myself as Phoebe.

The guy pulls a face. ‘Luckily for you, I met two men who wouldn’t take no for an answer.’ In the light he’s even more beautiful than in the dark, in a lived-in kind of a way. His face is lean with the sort of bone structure and stubble shadows you mainly see on Vogue models. And somehow I just know that there’s a body to match underneath the effortlessly stylish denim jeans and dark hand-knitted sweater.

I shoot Poppy a sideways glance as I finally stagger to my feet. ‘Just checking stock levels down there.’

As he moves forward, his eyes lock with mine. ‘And I came to say how much I enjoyed the fireworks.’

As the words sink in, I’m staring at his lips. Thinking about catching my fingers in those tawny-brown tousled waves. Remembering how I slid my tongue over his teeth. Thinking of the explosions in my gut, and how he must have felt them too. My mouth is dropping open but nothing’s coming out.

Poppy stands on my toe. ‘Weren’t the rockets amazing?’

Rockets? Those fireworks … Of course, that’s what he’s talking about. ‘Yay to the amazing bangs – and those hearts floating down the sky!’ I’m frantically wiping my hands on my backside, moving this on before I make any more of a tool of myself. ‘What can I pour you? Anything on the chalkboard, we’ve got it all.’

There’s a definite spark in his eye. ‘I was wondering what would have happened earlier if I’d passed over a full resident’s parking permit rather than a visitor’s one.’ His lips are twisting as he scans the handwriting. ‘If this is what’s on offer, I think I got my answer.’

I don’t flinch. Instead, I fix my eyes on the Diesel logo on the front of his coat. ‘So what’s it to be, an Unleash Your Libido or a Lovebite?’

‘What do you recommend?’ As his sooty lashes lift there’s a flash of dark grey iris softened by the glint of a tease.

‘Er …’ As our eyes lock again, my heart thuds to a halt and a shiver zips down my spine as I remember the rush as our mouths collided. I catch a waft of his scent across the table and I’m thanking my lucky stars for the sequin shield covering my boobs. However thick the padding on my T-shirt bra is, it’s no match for a dark gaze like that. And I’m only opening and closing my mouth because no one’s asked me that yet.

Poppy comes to my rescue. ‘We’re drinking non-alcoholic Rhubarb and Rose.’

‘But that’s for wimps.’ My voice jumps into action, spurred on by the spark in his eye and the need to get this over fast. ‘I reckon you should try the Love Potion No. 9.’

Poppy turns on me. ‘Is that even a thing?’

I hitch my cupid bow back into place on my shoulder, fill up a jam jar, toss in a cucumber slice and a spoonful of berries, push in a striped paper straw and push it towards him. ‘It is now. There you go! Enjoy!’ Then get the hell out of here.

This time his lips curve all the way to a smile. And of course the teeth are going to match the rest of the package. Why wouldn’t they? In the same way that dark chocolate voice of his sounds exactly as he tasted. ‘So is this the bit where I give you my heart?’

‘Excuse me?’

Poppy’s nudge lands in my ribs as she hisses. ‘The drinks voucher he’s holding – take it off him, Milla.’

I swallow hard, curse silently at how much I’m showing myself up, and make my beam really, really bright. ‘Great.’ But as my fingers reach the paper he whips it away.

There’s a low laugh. ‘One more strawberry then I promise, it’s all yours.’

I’m shaking my head. In the wedding business you have to be super-polite, every second. As Phoebe has reminded me most days for the last six years, you need to look like you’re having the most fun, but there’s simply no place for messing about. As this evening is more of a random free-for-all, just this once I let myself go. ‘Another strawberry? Talk about demanding customers!’

He’s properly laughing now and turning the twinkle in his eyes up to max. ‘I just sailed in after a month at sea, I need all the nutrients I can get.’

Unbelievable. Just my luck to hit on a superman. ‘And I just drove all the way from Gloucestershire, but I’m not about to inhale all the fruit.’

He’s still grinning, but this time he’s looking straight at me with the kind of smile that turns your insides to molten toffee. ‘Which saves me asking. I thought I recognised a Bristol burr.’

My eyes snap open. ‘I so don’t have one of those, thanks all the same.’ I’m so desperate to move him on I push the whole bowl of strawberries at him. ‘Take as much fruit as you need. And if you’re going to collapse due to vitamin deficiency, please don’t mess up the displays.’

He scoops a strawberry into his drink and pushes another into his mouth – ah, those teeth again. Then he hands me his heart and his face splits into a grin. ‘One heart, be sure you look after it. And watch you don’t drop your quiver.’

The best I can do is widen my eyes as I try to work out what the hell he’s talking about.

He’s raised an eyebrow now. ‘Your arrow pouch – it’s called a quiver. And I’m no archery expert, but it looks like yours is about to fall off.’ His grin splits even further. ‘If cupid loses his ammunition, you’re not going to have many takers for your pictures.’

Don’t you just hate it when guys come over like they know so much more than you?

I roll my eyes upwards to the chandelier. ‘I wasn’t planning on taking aim, my bow is purely decorative.’

‘In which case I’ll leave you to dish out your Lovebites.’ There’s one cocked eyebrow and he might be laughing. ‘I’ll catch you later.’

As he saunters off into the crush of brightly coloured padded jackets and flushed cheeks, I turn to Poppy. ‘He took his time.’

Poppy’s grin is wider still. ‘And you don’t think he hung around because there was so much flirting going on?’

‘What? With me?!’ Surely, she can’t be serious? ‘Whatever happened before, you know I’m done with men.’

She’s biting her lip. ‘He liked the starter so much he came straight back for more.’ The way she peers into my eyes, it’s like she’s trying to look inside my soul. ‘If you wanted to take things further there, I guarantee he wouldn’t refuse.’

For a second the pit of my stomach turns to syrup. Then I land right back in the real world and come to my senses. Of course I bloody wouldn’t be up for anything of the kind. What is my body thinking? But before I can let out my full scream of protest Jess comes into view, her wide-leg linen trousers flapping as her loafers clip clop on the floorboards.

Her eyes are shining as she comes towards us. ‘However much Ken and Gary are stretching it with those hot pants, they’re excelling themselves at getting the crowds in.’ As she smooths her aqua chiffon blouse, her laser gaze is directed straight at me. ‘Here, take some mint to your lovely friend over there. Four weeks at sea, he must be in need of some greens.’

That’s the funny thing about Jess – wherever she is in the building, she still knows what’s going on. Who else would pick up on windcheater guy from two floors away?

But luckily I’m spared that, because Jess starts clinking a spoon very loudly on a cocktail jug. The moment the buzz in the room dies down she clears her throat. ‘So, a very big welcome to the first of our anniversary celebrations and our first ever joint event with the singles club. As most of you know, here at Brides by the Sea we’ve always waved the flag for solo flyers …’ She pauses to beam around at everyone.

This isn’t just a sales pitch, it’s actually true. For years after the shop opened the team here were all single, independent, and happy to stay that way. It’s only in the last couple of years that one by one, despite not looking, they’ve unexpectedly found their happy-ever-after partners – even her.

Jess’s grin moves seamlessly into an eye roll at her roguish and rather crumpled fiancé, Bart, who is leaning a shoulder on the whisper-grey wall. Not only did he give her the fireworks, he also happens to own a fabulous stately home in Rose Hill.

She carries on. ‘Lately, Brides by the Sea has been like cupid dust for couples. So make the most of that while you’re here this Valentine’s Day! Take a leaf out of my book – be brave and give love a chance!’

There’s cheering and clapping around the room. Jess is a pro when to comes to working a crowd. She knows exactly the right moment to start again. ‘At Brides by the Sea we always like to offer you something special …’ She waits to get everyone’s attention. ‘Anyone who has their photo taken by Milla tonight and put up on our Valentine’s Day board can come and claim a ten percent discount …’ she pauses for effect, ‘… at any point in the future. Regardless of who you’re getting married to.’

As Poppy grins at me she’s shaking her head. ‘That’s Jess for you, she wouldn’t let a tiny detail like someone being with a different partner down the line get in the way of a sale.’

Jess is gazing around the room like an empress surveying her subjects. ‘So there’s no time to lose! Get those bottoms on the loveseat and your photos on the board!’ She whips around and fixes me with her gaze. ‘What are you waiting for, Milla? Grab that camera and get snapping!’

I’d be more pleased about this if I hadn’t just glimpsed the back of a Diesel windcheater still in the room.

By the time the crowd thins out a lot later, I’ve lost count of how many Polaroid film packs I’ve got through and the corkboard hanging on the shop wall is covered in cute retro-tint photos. Poppy came to help too, which was great, all the way to the last customer. But truly, I could do without the eyebrow action she’s giving me as she ushers windcheater guy into the corner. By the time he finally sidles towards the curve of the white-painted seat, his coat is over his arm. I’m staring at a dark, hand-knitted jumper and frantically checking around to see if he’s got anyone with him.

‘So is it …’ not meaning to discriminate against people on their own, but for the sake of the picture I need to check ‘… just you?’ Behind him Poppy’s eyebrows have switched into overdrive.

He pulls a face. ‘It was, last time I checked. That’s still good for the discount?’

Poppy jumps in. ‘No worries there.’

He laughs. ‘If I’m planning a big spend, I can’t say no to an offer like that.’

Poppy’s eyes widen. ‘Maybe you should be having a chat with Jess?’

His nose wrinkles. ‘I do have quite a few weddings on the horizon. But there’s no rush.’

I can’t ignore a boast that’s even bigger than his yacht one. ‘Well, let’s hope all your wives will be very happy.’ As for where the hell that came from, I’m as shocked as anyone. I don’t wait for a reaction, instead, I nod at the loveseat and lift the camera. ‘Well, make yourself comfortable for now, I’m ready when you are.’ I’m just lining up the angle when there’s a whoosh from across the room and the camera is wrenched out of my hands.

As Jess shoulders me out of the way, she’s beaming down at windcheater man. ‘It’ll spoil the composition if we don’t use the whole seat. Why don’t you pop on there too, Milla?’

If I wasn’t so surprised, I’d already have given her a thousand very good reasons. As it is, the best I can do is to grab hold of Poppy and drag her down with me. ‘One of us either side of you, how’s that?’ I flash a smile at Jess. ‘Three for the price of two. What’s not to like?’

It’s only as we wedge our hips down between the chair arms that I realise my big mistake. With two on the seat there’d have been space for a gap between us. As three of us crash down there’s a muffled crack somewhere under my bottom, but so long as the seat’s holding up I’m not mentioning it. As I aim for my best selfie face I’m rammed so hard against a certain woolly jumper that I’m not only getting the pattern of the stitches printed on my skin through my playsuit, I can also feel every single torso muscle underneath it.

‘Big smiles all round!’ Jess is properly purring. ‘Then hold that for a couple more clicks. Okay, it’s in the can. You can relax!’

All I can say is, it’s good that I’ve spent the last year perfecting smiling when I’m hating every second. A guy’s arm extending around my waist isn’t what I’d meant to allow in my life again, even if does ease the crush. And I hadn’t planned to have stubble pressing against my cheek either. As for his delicious scent, with a lungful instead of my earlier noseful I’m practically passing out. I’m also close enough to see I wasn’t the only one with pink smudges on my ear.

Poppy is first to unwedge herself. ‘Hey, nice aftershave. Is that Paco Rabanne?’

As I try to stand up, there’s a resistance that’s a lot more than my hair wisps catching in his beard. Then, instead of an answer to Poppy’s fragrance question, there’s a loud squawk. Windcheater guy yelps and clutches his side as I’m finally on my feet.

His voice rises in protest as he points at a stick that’s appearing from the loose knit of his jumper. ‘Hey, Cupid, I thought you said you weren’t firing? You just scored a bull’s-eye!’

Oh crap. My stomach drops so fast I feel sick. When I look down at my pouch my arrows are splintered and I’m definitely one short. At least that clears up what the cracking sound was. On balance, the seat collapsing under our weight might have been better. ‘I’m so, so sorry! Have I impaled you? Are you hurt?’

He lifts his sweater and stares at his ribs. ‘No worries, it’s only a scratch.’

There’s the six pack I already knew about. As for the bronzed stomach I get an eyeful of as well, that’s just another given that goes with the territory. Then I take in a slick of red sliding downwards, huge and bright against his tan. ‘Shit, you’re bleeding!’

You know that thing with emergencies? Sometimes you freeze. And sometimes you leap into action but it’s like someone else is moving your limbs. That’s what happens to me now. Before I know it, I’ve jumped up and snatched a handful of tissues from the mother-of-the-bride decorated hanky box. By the time I’m back my hand is already so far up his jumper to mop up the blood that most of my arm’s disappeared too.

I’m not sure if it’s due to the warmth inside his sweater or the flush of embarrassment, but, whatever, I’m super-heated, puce, and there are sweat rivers trickling down inside my sequins.

Sera, the dress designer, wanders over, her thumbs through the belt loops of the ripped denim shorts she always wears. She pushes back an armful of sun-streaked curls and laughs as she starts to gather up the blood-streaked hankies. ‘What’s going on here? It looks like something out of Call the Midwife. Hang on, I’ll get the first-aid box.’

Windcheater guy’s shaking his head. ‘I just sailed the Atlantic single-handed, I think I can manage without the paramedics.’ As he turns to look up at me, he’s grinning. ‘In any case, I’m being very well looked after here.’