A Vintage Wedding (30 page)

‘Yes, please.’

Beth placed a glass under the relevant pump. ‘And I’m sorry I didn’t recognise you.’

He chuckled. ‘You were just a child when I was first on the scene. No apology needed.’

Beth laughed. ‘It’s probably only me who hasn’t heard of you. When were you – you know …’

‘Famous?’ He laughed again.

‘No!’ Beth was embarrassed. ‘When you were at the height of your powers!’

He was really laughing now. ‘Which power would that be, now?’

Beth wanted to say ‘being really gorgeous’ but now she could see he wasn’t bald and had deep brown eyes with lashes as long as a cow’s, he obviously was still gorgeous. She felt a mixture of excitement because she was talking to him and he was looking at her in a way that told her he was pleased with what he saw, and anxiety in case he was just another Charlie. And, she realised, as an ex-pop star he probably was worse than Charlie. He’d have a girl in every town he played in. ‘I meant when were you top of the charts.’ She paused. ‘It’s all right. I’ll google you when I get home.’

‘Can I google you? Otherwise I’ll just have to ask a lot of questions. Starting with your name.’

‘It’s Beth. And are you flirting with the barmaid?’ said Beth, brave because there was a bar between her and him.

‘Not at all. I wouldn’t flirt with you.’

She handed him the drink that had finally settled. What did he mean? That she wasn’t pretty enough to flirt with?

‘Should I be offended?’

‘Not at all. Flirting is something you do with people you don’t care much about. I’d like to get to know you properly.’

Beth gulped. She lifted the flap and went out to do her job. She was trying very hard not to feel flattered. He was a flatterer, like Charlie had been, and although he was definitely far better looking than Charlie, he was unlikely to be better behaved.

She came back with a loaded tray and felt pleased that he was still there. He was lovely to chat with because she wasn’t expecting anything more than just a chat. He must have experienced his fair share of groupies. He needed to know she was not one of those.

The thought of this made her smile and although he didn’t know why she was smiling he smiled back. He was certainly cheering up the lunchtime service.

Sukey, who’d emerged from the kitchen, was now chatting away about bands and music with Finn and another couple of locals who had come in. The conversation was getting animated. Beth could tell that Sukey would put her considerable PR talents into getting as many people to his gig as possible. Between her and Sukey, Finn and his new band would get a good audience.

She was back behind the bar, stacking the dishwasher, when she heard the pub door open. She turned at the sound automatically and couldn’t believe her eyes. It was her mother.

Beth couldn’t speak for two reasons. Firstly she wasn’t due until tomorrow and she’d have to ring Rachel as soon as possible to warn her, and secondly it felt so wrong seeing her mother in these surroundings she had to check it was indeed her. Pubs were not Vivien Scott’s milieu and she looked around suspiciously. Then she spotted her daughter and strode forward. Beth trusted her power of speech would return before she reached the bar.

‘Beth! My God! I’d heard you’d cut your hair. But what a shock. You look ghastly. And you’re working in a pub! No wonder you haven’t got a boyfriend!’

Beth found she was smiling and in spite of everything she realised that she’d missed her mother, even her supreme tactlessness. ‘Hey, Mum. Lovely to see you too. I wasn’t expecting you until tomorrow.’

Mrs Scott leant over the bar and kissed Beth’s cheek. ‘Sorry, darling. That may have sounded a bit unkind, but I can’t pretend I think your hair looks nice when it doesn’t.’

‘Lots of other people like it,’ said Beth. ‘Including me.’ She paused. ‘Can I get you a drink?’

Her mother frowned questioningly.

‘I’m a barmaid, as you know,’ said Beth. ‘It’s my job to sell drinks.’ She knew perfectly well that Sukey wouldn’t mind if she just chatted to her mother for a bit but she wanted to make it clear that she was independent and there was no shame in honest toil even if it did involve pulling pints.

Her mother squinted at the row of beer pumps. ‘Um …’

‘Have a gin and tonic,’ suggested her daughter. ‘With plenty of ice and lemon, like you have it at home. I’ll make it a double.’

‘I don’t usually drink before six o’clock,’ her mother objected. ‘Unless I’m out to lunch, of course.’

‘It is lunchtime. And you don’t usually land on your long-lost daughter in a pub!’ Beth would certainly have had a drink herself, had she not been on duty.

Beth felt her mother’s eyes upon her as she prepared her drink. As always, she felt judged. She saw her mother eyeing up a bar stool suspiciously. Then she became aware of Finn, also watching.

Before Beth had worked out how best to help, he had jumped off his stool and taken hold of Beth’s mother’s elbow. ‘Here, let me help you up. They’re not designed for people with skirts, really.’ Once he’d settled her securely on to a stool, he said, ‘Hey, Beth. You didn’t tell me you had a beautiful mother!’

Beth put down the gin and tonic. They’d barely chatted long enough to exchange their names let alone discuss their parents. He was doing this to help her out and she was grateful. Her mother sat up a bit straighter. ‘So, who are you?’ She addressed Finn with flirtatious sternness.

‘I’m the man – one of them – who thinks Beth’s hair is just great. It brings out her beautiful eyes, you see. Which I see she gets from you.’

Beth bit her lip to hide her chuckle. My goodness, he was good. Talk about Irish charm. Some may have kissed the Blarney Stone but Beth felt certain Finn had gone much further than that.

‘You still haven’t told me your name.’ Beth’s mother was falling for the charm like a pet lamb at a farm park, eating out of his hand.

‘I’m Finn.’

‘And you and my daughter are …’ she waved a hand towards Beth, ‘… an item?’ She said the word as if it were foreign and should have had inverted commas around it. ‘She never tells me anything, you see.’

Beth wanted to die. This was so embarrassing. Obviously her mother didn’t know that Finn was some kind of rock god and had been a superstar but still … Yet she knew if she made an excuse to leave it would look worse.

‘Ah, I wish!’ said Finn. ‘It’s a bit early for that but let’s just say I’m working on it.’

Beth wanted to kiss him. Not because he was so attractive but because he was so kind. He was going out of his way to stick up for her, having heard her riposte over her hair, to make her look good in front of her over-critical mother. What a nice man.

She smiled at him with gratitude. His returning smile reminded Beth that he’d been one of the hottest pop stars of his day and also why Sukey thought he had improved with age. Probably just as well she’d had a very recent injection of reality and wasn’t going to take his flirting seriously, even if he had declared he wouldn’t flirt with her.

‘Well,’ said Mrs Scott. ‘At least things aren’t quite as bad as I thought. My youngest fled the nest far too young and I really hated the thought of her being lonely.’ Beth could have added ‘and out of my control’ but didn’t.

‘So, Mum!’ said Beth when she’d judged her mother had drunk enough of her gin and tonic to mellow her a little. ‘What are you doing here a day early?’

‘I’d have thought that was blatantly obvious! I’ve come to organise Helena’s wedding! Starting by booking the church.’

‘I’ll need a place to stay tonight,’ said Vivien Scott after she’d had another gin and tonic and had bought Finn a drink. ‘Where are you staying?’ she asked him.

Beth fervently hoped he was staying in a boutique hotel that wasn’t too near but would provide her mother with all the comfort she demanded. Then she could send her off there and Rachel could relax.

‘I’m staying with a friend a little way away,’ said Finn.

Beth’s mother turned her attention back to her daughter. ‘It looks like I’ll have to stay in this bed and breakfast you’ve booked me into.’

Lindy had delivered Billy to her grandmother’s house and then gone back to Rachel’s to look at the china that was now filling her shed. Thus she was with Rachel when Beth called and listened to the conversation from her end. Rachel was gulping and saying, ‘OK,’ rather a lot, she felt.

‘What!’ she said as soon as Rachel took her phone away from her ear.

Rachel licked her lips. ‘Beth’s mother is here. A day early. She’s in the pub. She needs to stay here tonight.’

‘Oh my God, Rachel!’

‘Yes! I was absolutely relying on having the entire day to get her room ready before she arrived tomorrow night.’

‘And of course I’ll help.’

‘Thank you, Lindy.’ Rachel clutched on to her arm for a second, as if for support. ‘Beth has tried to get her to stay in a hotel, somewhere like Bath, which has the sort of hotels she likes, but she doesn’t see why she can’t just rock up a day early.’

‘You don’t have to have her early. Beth would completely understand.’

Rachel, who seemed a little flushed, said, ‘It’s OK. I said I’d do it. It’s a challenge, but one I can rise to.’

‘But don’t use your bedroom. Put her in the spare room, otherwise it’s just too much upheaval.’

‘No. I’d rather keep her contained.’

Lindy felt she could see the cogs of Rachel’s brain turning, possibly selecting bedlinen in her head. She looked at her watch. ‘What would you like me to do? Although I’ve only got half an hour.’

‘I’ll need about an hour and a half to make it all perfect,’ said Rachel. ‘If you could go to Beth and make sure she keeps her mother away for that long that would be great. And then maybe source some supplies?’

‘You mean, go shopping?’ Lindy couldn’t help smiling. ‘Of course. What do you need?’

‘Croissants, freshly squeezed orange juice, good butter, local if possible, ditto bacon, sausages and eggs …’ She paused. ‘Do you think Beth’s mother likes black pudding?’

‘She definitely doesn’t,’ said Lindy instantly and they both laughed, aware she’d said this without having a clue as to Beth’s mother’s culinary preferences but instinct told them both she didn’t. ‘I can track down the other things but not black pudding. However’ – she felt a moment of smugness – ‘I could source a loaf of my grandmother’s amazing wholemeal bread.’

‘Brilliant! Croissants are so mega fattening Beth’s mother won’t eat them but I do have to provide them, I think. How about jam and marmalade? Your grandmother doesn’t make them, does she?’

‘She certainly does! And if she doesn’t, she’ll certainly provide a jam jar with a hand-written label on it that we could put shop marmalade into.’

Rachel shook her head. ‘Lindy! I won’t put the actual jar on the table. It’ll go in my special jam dishes. Along with butter in curls – none of those nasty little packets – or would pats be better? Or balls?’

‘Sweetie, I’m going shopping. You have a lot of things to do before you need to be worrying about what shape to mould the butter into.’

Lindy rang her grandmother to check that Billy hadn’t exhausted her and could she have him a bit longer, and then asked very nicely if she could possibly pick up Ned from school and explained why. ‘Obviously we’ll pay you for the jam and marmalade and bread. You can charge top-end prices. I’ll find out what those are.’

Her grandmother, mildly flattered to think her simple home-made offerings were going to contribute to a very exclusive bed and breakfast agreed to look out her prettiest preserves and to add a layer of seeds to the top of a loaf she’d baked that morning. And also pick up her grandson from school.

That evening, Lindy was just about to get the boys into the bath when her phone went. She thought about not answering it but instead ran down to get it. It might be Rachel having a crisis with Beth’s mother. She couldn’t abandon her.

It was Angus.

‘Oh, Angus.’ Lindy was surprised. And quite pleased – but terribly shy at the same time. She’d spent more time than was sensible thinking about him. Now it felt as though that’s what had made him ring.

‘Is that Uncle Angus?’ said Ned. ‘Can I speak to him? Please?’

The ‘please’ was accompanied by Ned snatching the phone and running out of the bathroom with it. As Billy had just climbed into the bath Lindy couldn’t run after him and snatch it back. If she scooped up Billy now he’d scream the house down.

‘Ned!’ she yelled. ‘Bring back my phone this instant!’

There was no response. She could hear Ned talking on the phone but not what he was saying. She felt completely helpless. If she shouted again Angus might hear and she’d sound like the very worst kind of parent. If she picked up Billy, ditto, and if she left Billy to grab the phone he might slip and drown while she was wrestling with Ned. She picked up a beaker of water and poured it over Billy’s back. It was soothing for him and she hoped it would be soothing for her too.

Ned came back into the bathroom. ‘Here you are.’

‘Angus?’ said Lindy into the phone.

‘He’s not there,’ said Ned. ‘He’s coming round.’

‘When is he coming round?’ she asked.

‘Tonight,’ said Ned. ‘He said if I gave the phone back to you he’d read us a story. Five stories, actually.’