Lizzie Marshall's Wedding (5 page)

Lizzie took a deep breath but didn’t answer.

‘And why does every conversation I ever have with you about your love life, end up giving me a headache?’ Jane reached down for her handbag and took out some aspirin.

Lizzie smiled, despite herself. ‘You and me both. Chuck me a couple of those please.’

‘There’re not sweets,’ Jane joked, getting up and handing two to her friend. ‘Have you discussed this with Jack? Wait, what am I saying? Of course you have. Oh my God. He thinks it’s okay doesn’t he?’ She sank back onto the chair.

Lizzie beamed. ‘As a matter of fact, he does. We discussed it yesterday evening, although not for long; we had other things on our minds.’

Jane tutted. ‘Yeah, like sex you mean. I don’t know how you two cope with being so far apart all week. I’d go crazy if Iain and I were apart for longer than a day!’

‘It’s tough, I’ll admit, and I think we both had trust issues at the beginning, after everything that happened but ... well, we love each other and the week just seems to fly by. Besides, we chat via webcam every day, so it’s not too bad.’

‘Yeah. That would only make it worse, for me though. To see him and know I couldn’t touch him – that really would drive me insane.’

Lizzie giggled and put the dough back in the bowl, covering it with a damp tea-towel. ‘That’s because you’re sex mad, and it wouldn’t take much to drive you insane anyway – you’re more than half way there already.’

Jane stuck out her tongue and tossed her copper coloured hair behind one shoulder, with a flick of her hand. ‘Takes one to know one. So ... you’re seriously going to do this.  Have the wedding at Max’s mum’s, I mean.’

Lizzie pulled out a chair and sat at the table. She picked up the coffee Jane had made her and cradled the mug in both hands. ‘I think so. I’ve seen pictures of it on the web and it looks spectacular. Margaret says it needs some work but she’s hoping it’ll be ready by the summer. And it just makes sense. All my family live in either Kent or Sussex, mum and dad will be home by then. All Jack’s family live down that way – and so do yours, comes to that. It seems easier to get everyone together down there than it does to make them all come up here. Besides, I’m not sure grandma and grandpops would be able to make the journey, and if I want anyone at my wedding, it’s them.’

‘I agree it makes sense to have it down south, what I don’t agree with, is the venue. There are dozens of fabulous places you could have it. Herstmonceux Castle, Bodiam Castle, Leeds Castle –’

‘You seem obsessed with castles. I don’t want a castle. I just want a place large enough to accommodate the main wedding guests. Beckleston Hall has twenty-five bedrooms and we won’t need anywhere near that amount but it will mean we’ll have privacy. I don’t want to go to some hotel where others will be staying. I ... I just want to make sure that it’ll be okay with Iain. He will be able to take the weekend off from the farm won’t he?’

‘Of course he will! It’s busy in the summer but then, it’s always busy so I don’t think it’ll make much difference. Are you inviting Fraser too?’

‘Of course. That’s what worries me. Iain usually leaves Fraser in charge when you and he go away. Would he be able to organise things so that Fraser could come too?’

Jane nodded. ‘I’m sure he would. One of the farm hands would be fine just for the weekend. Do you want me to check with him?’

‘Please. If it’s a problem, I’ll have to have a rethink.’

‘Are you planning to do something up here too? I think the village will be a bit put out if you don’t. They’re hardly likely to want to trawl all the way down south, if you were planning to invite them all anyway, which I’m assuming you’re not.’

Lizzie shook her head. ‘No. We’re saying that the wedding down south is just for family – which is true, it is; you, Iain and Fraser count as family but we thought we’d do something up here too, maybe have a celebration at Dougall and Isabel’s, like you and Iain did. That way, no one will feel left out.’

‘Good idea. You don’t want to start a feud. I’ll make some more coffee. Jack and Iain should be back any minute.’

Lizzie watched Jane make the coffee. She’d known her friend wouldn’t like the idea of the venue for her wedding but it was
her
wedding, and whilst her best friend’s opinion was important, this was one time she felt she could ignore it.

She and Max were friends – good friends – and nothing would ever change that. The fact that her fiancé, Jack, had since become friends with him, was an added bonus.

They’d bumped into Max one night, when Lizzie had taken a couple of days off from the bed and breakfast and had gone down to London to be with Jack. They’d gone to the local pub, The Black Swan – or The Mucky Duck, as it was affectionately known by the regulars – and Max was there.

It was awkward at first, Jack was, after all, the reason she’d finally decided to get a divorce from Max, ending their separation once and for all, but he wasn’t the cause of the break up, so there was no reason for animosity between them.

Max and Jack hit it off, and since then, they often met up after work for a pint or two.

Jane thought it was weird and said so, frequently.

‘Wakey, wakey,’ Jane said, putting a fresh mug of coffee on the table in front of Lizzie, ‘you were miles away. Planning the big day?’

Lizzie shrugged. ‘Not really. I was actually just thinking how pleased I am, that Jack and Max have become friends.’

‘Yeah well, it’s all very lovely I’m sure, but if Jack asks Max to be his best man, I’m having the lot of you certified.’

Lizzie grinned. ‘No need to worry on that score, Jack’s already asked Phil.’

‘Thank God for that! Of course, it would have been just as bad if he’d asked Ross. We could have had a reunion of all the players in “The Stag Party Farce” as I like to think of it. That really would have been fun.’

‘Well, now that you mention it ... ’

‘No! You’ve got to be kidding. Don’t tell me that woman’s going to be a bridesmaid! I’ll kill myself, here and now.’

‘No!’ Lizzie giggled. ‘But she will be at the wedding. Don’t look like that. She’s Ross’ wife and Ross is one of Jack’s best friends.’

‘Yes and we all remember how that friendship turned out, don’t we? Mind you, it all worked out for the best. Ross got her and you got Jack. God, even thinking about that again, is making my head spin. Tell me, how is the delightful Kim? Do we know? Do we really care?’

‘Honestly Jane, you’re dreadful sometimes. Of course we care ... not much, but we care, mainly about Ross though. Actually, I think they may be having problems. I don’t know for certain but Jack did say something along those lines. I think he was meeting Ross for a drink last Thursday to talk about it – which reminds me, I didn’t ask him how it went. I must do that.’

‘Yes, and then phone me and tell me all about it ... speaking of which,’ she leant back in the chair and peered out of the kitchen window, ‘here come the boys.’

CHAPTER FIVE

‘Good morning Becky. How are you today? Looking forward to seeing Lily I don’t doubt. What time are they bringing her home?’ Mary Parkes hardly stopped for breath.

Becky’s head was aching. She and the girls had drunk a little too much wine the night before and she felt as if the top of her head had been sawn off and her brain was exposed to the elements. The wind and rain hadn’t helped and the ten minute walk to the Stores had seemed like a ten mile hike.

‘I don’t feel too bright, to be honest, Mrs. P. I think I may be coming down with something,’ she lied. She seemed to be getting rather good at lying recently, she thought.  Perhaps she’d learnt it from Jeremy. He’d lied to her for years.

‘I hope it wasn’t from your upset yesterday with Max Bedford. I don’t think he meant any harm, dear. You know what men are like. Talk without thinking, that’s their problem. He seems such a nice man. So handsome too, and as rich as Midas, so I heard.’

‘Croecus,’ Becky corrected.

Mary didn’t seem to notice. ‘Bit of a one for the women though, by all accounts.’

Becky almost felt sorry for the man. He’d only been in Beckleston for a few days and already there were rumours flying about like vultures over a wounded animal. He could take care of himself though, she was sure of that.

‘You’d better be careful around that one dear,’ Mary was saying.

‘Why?’ Becky asked, immediately wishing she hadn’t.

‘Why? Well, because he’s got his eye on you dear, that’s why.’ She smiled as if she’d just given Becky good news.

‘Don’t be ridiculous! Sorry, Mrs. P., I didn’t mean to snap at you. I can assure you though, Mr. Bedford is not in the least bit interested in me.’ She grabbed a pint of milk, put exactly the right money on the counter and headed towards the door. She didn’t like where this conversation was going.

‘Really? Well, for someone who isn’t interested, he’s been asking Martin rather a lot of questions about you.’

 Becky stopped in her tracks, although she hated herself for doing so. She knew that was exactly what Mary Parkes wanted her to do.

‘Not that Martin told him anything, of course. You know what he’s like. He changes the subject in the nicest possible way. You ask him what time it is and he says we’re lucky to be having good weather! No need to worry dear; all Max got from Martin was that everyone in the village likes you. Mind you, he could always ask someone else I suppose...’

‘He’s probably asking questions about everyone. He and his mother are strangers after all. It’s only natural that they should try to glean some info from the village ...’ she almost said gossip but that was unfair. Martin wasn’t a gossip, only Mary. She saw Mary’s eyes narrow and continued, ‘from the village ... in general. He’s probably been in Doreen’s café asking about you.’

The expression on Mary’s face was priceless and for a second, Becky forgot her headache. She knew that, as soon as she left, Mary would call Doreen and ask her. It wasn’t that Mary Parkes – or the other gossip, Connie Jessop – were bad or nasty people, they just liked to talk. Unfortunately though, they liked to talk about people, and if there was nothing nice or true to be said about someone, Mary and Connie saw no harm at all in making something up.

‘I must dash. Lily will be home this afternoon and I’ve got a few errands to run before then. Have a good day Mrs. P.’

‘What? Oh yes Becky, thanks, you too. And give little Lily a hug for me. No wait,’ she scurried from behind the counter, grabbed a bar of chocolate and shoved it in Becky’s hand. ‘Give her that, and a hug.’

‘Thanks Mrs. P.’

No, Becky thought as she headed home, pulling her coat collar up in an attempt to shield her face from the driving rain, Mrs. P. wasn’t a bad or nasty woman.

The wave of water, took her completely by surprise. One minute she was hurrying home, the next, she was drenched from head to foot with dark brown, muddy, freezing water. 

A mixture of shock and the cold took her breath away and, as she finally gasped for air, she swallowed a scrap of sodden paper. She managed to spit it out but it made her wretch and her eyes watered with a surge of pain.

‘Shit! I’m so sorry,’ someone shouted from a Range Rover that had pulled to an abrupt halt, just yards ahead. ‘I didn’t see the puddle. Are you okay?’

Becky wiped mud from her eyes and tried to focus. She saw a man of at least six feet tall with thick blond hair, dashing towards her.

‘Y... yes,’ she stuttered through chattering teeth. ‘J... just, a little w...wet ... that’s ... You!’ Recognition dawned.

‘We meet again Fifi,’ Max said, grinning through a curtain of torrential rain. ‘Here, get in the car and I’ll give you a lift.’

‘No thank you! You’ve d...done quite enough already.’ She was freezing and it felt as though her coat weighed ten tonnes.

‘Don’t be ridiculous,’ Max said, half lifting, half pushing her into the passenger seat before she had time to resist. He shut the door and dashed to the driver’s side. By the time he sat beside her, he too, was saturated. ‘We look like a couple of drowned rats,’ he said grinning broadly.

‘Sp...speak for yourself,’ she hissed.

‘Where to?’ He revved the engine.

‘This is st...stupid. I only l..live a few m...minutes away.’

‘In a few minutes, you’ll have caught pneumonia. Now, where do you live – exactly?’

‘R..rosemary C..cottage. St..straight ahead.’ He was right, she thought. She could hardly feel her hands and her feet had gone numb ten seconds ago.

Max sped off, arriving at Rosemary Cottage in less than a minute.

‘Th...thank –’

He was already out of the car and opening the passenger door. He helped her out but her legs seemed to crumple beneath her. In one swift motion, he swept her up then he carried her to her door.

‘Key?’

‘N...not locked,’ she said, still shaking, but not from the cold. This was the second time he’d carried her in his arms since they’d met less than twenty-four hours ago, and she found it very unsettling.

Max gave her a quizzical look then tried the door. He seemed genuinely surprised when it opened. ‘Not very security conscious.’

‘It...it’s a village.’

His raised eyebrows seemed to indicate that wasn’t a good reason, as far as he was concerned but he said nothing.

‘You c...can put me down now, p...please.’

‘You need a hot shower. Where’s the bathroom?’ He glanced at the stairs and headed towards them, not waiting for an answer.

‘I c...can manage!’ Even Becky heard the note of terror in her voice.

‘Of course you can. Don’t worry. I’m not planning to undress you – or get in with you.’ He smiled down at her as he reached what he believed to be the bathroom door and he gently stood her on her feet keeping one arm around her waist. ‘Unless ... ’

His eyes held hers and for one moment, she forgot where she was and that she was freezing to death.

‘Only joking. I’ll go and put the kettle on. You sure you’re okay?’

She wasn’t sure of anything but she managed to nod.

‘Yell if you need me.’ He turned and jumped down the stairs three at a time.

Becky watched him go then closed the bathroom door. She stripped off her clothes and dropped them into the bath then got in the shower, leant against the tiles for support and turned the water on. It took a few minutes for her to feel her feet and hands again and her skin started to tingle as the warm water brought her back to her senses.