An Enormously English Monsoon Wedding (22 page)

After a mainly sleepless night, where any dreams had been of the fretful naked-in-public or running-and-getting-nowhere variety, Erin eventually dozed off just as it was getting light.

It seemed only about five minutes later that Florence landed with a very ungentle whoomp on her stomach. Despite Erin pushing her away and explaining it was still the middle of the night, Florence kneaded and purred and demanded breakfast, so Erin, discovering that it was actually past nine o’clock, groaned, rolled out of bed and staggered groggily downstairs.

After grabbing her phone from her bag, she fed and watered Florence with one hand while checking her messages with the other.

Jay had texted her when he and Kam had returned from Picton’s Farm in the early hours. Jay’s text had been romantic and funny. Erin hugged the phone to herself as she made coffee and sashayed round Uncle Doug’s cottage, giving the wedding shoes their Sunday morning workout.

The row was
over. The falling out about the
mandap
was forgotten. Together they’d sort it all out. Sunday was a free day for both of them. They’d sneak off somewhere and have some time to be alone. Away from everyone and everything. Especially Nalisha.

So she texted back that she’d be ready in less than an hour and would make a picnic. Nalisha, Erin decided, definitely wouldn’t like picnics – not that she was being invited – but Erin loved them. So did Jay.

Pretty sure that even early on a Sunday morning Nalisha would look like she was prepared for a
Vogue
cover shoot, Erin quickly showered and dressed in the skimpy denim shorts that Jay always said made her bum look like Kylie Minogue’s, and a turquoise vest because she knew it matched her eyes, and replaced the wedding shoes with glittery flip-flops. Then she used the straighteners on her freshly washed hair, left it swishing silkily round her shoulders, and applied full going-out make-up.

There! She surveyed herself in the mirror. It was OK. No, it was more than OK … It might not be smouldering Indian gorgeousness, but it was pretty damn good.

She shoved bread rolls and cheese and fruit and anything else that caught her fancy in the fridge and larder into a cool box.

Then she tiptoed back upstairs to check on Uncle Doug.

Doug was clearly having
an uncharacteristic lie-in, or maybe, more truthfully, nursing a mammoth hangover. Doug’s mates had managed to ply him with far too many pints of beer in far too short a time the previous night. Erin had helped him home in the darkness, staggering and stumbling across the green.

His earlier self-pity had turned to an alcohol-induced mawkishness and Erin had been glad to shove him into his bedroom and close the door, where he was, much to her relief, still snoring rhythmically.

Erin, now reassured that Doug was still alive, left him a note to say she’d probably be out all day with Jay and could he make sure Florence had plentiful supplies of biscuits and water, and then lugged the cool-box picnic across the Sunday-silent green towards Jay’s cottage.

Please, please, please, don’t let Nalisha be up and dressed and ready to make some catty remark.

The door to the cottage was standing open.

Erin grinned to herself. Jay was clearly as keen as she was to get away for the day and have some lovely, relaxing, romantic time together. Maybe, she thought, they could even escape before Nalisha woke up.

Yay!

Then her heart plummeted. Again.

Jay was in the doorway, not at all suitably dressed for al fresco frolics, and surrounded by veterinary paraphernalia.

‘Erin.’ He pulled her towards him. It was rather awkward because of Erin still holding the cool box, which bumped irritatingly against their legs and prevented them getting very close to one another. ‘You look amazing.’

‘Thanks. But I think it’s going to be wasted, isn’t it?’

‘Sod it. Yes. I’m so sorry.’

‘Oh no …’ Erin dropped the cool box, stepped over it, and looked at him. ‘Not a long call-out? Please tell me it’s not a long call-out?’

‘Sorry,’ Jay said
again, taking her face between his hands. ‘Oh God, you have no idea how sorry I am. I got the call about five minutes ago. Gerry Banscroft. You remember him? Runs the new one-man-band practice out across the other side of Bluebell Common? We met him at that barbecue last summer?’

‘Yes, yes.’ Erin nodded. ‘Nice bloke. Pretty wife. Lots of kids. And?’

‘He’s got a really tricky emergency op. He’s never carried out this type of surgery before. His locum’s got tonsillitis, his nurse has a stomach bug and the Sunday agency replacement is scrub-only. He needs a hand.’

Erin sighed. ‘Yes, OK, of course – but what about Kam? Couldn’t he go?’

‘He’s already gone back to Picton’s Farm with Renata. He has to make sure the procedures we carried out last night are working and he needs to blood test some of the other cattle and –’

‘Sssh.’ Erin smiled, then stood on tiptoe and kissed him. ‘I get the picture, even if I don’t like it.’

‘And,’ Jay added, kissing her neck, ‘don’t forget that Gerry Banscroft is standing in for me here on our wedding day, and his wife is doing all the animal-feeding, including Bella’s menagerie and, more importantly, Florence – so I do owe him a massive favour.’

Erin sighed. Back of the net, Gerry Banscroft. No question.

‘Go. Now. You’ve got to. The picnic will wait. And so will I.’

Jay kissed her again. ‘Now I know why I love you so much. And why I don’t want to go.’

‘Go!’ Erin, suddenly giddily swamped by a wave of love and lust, pulled reluctantly away from him. ‘Please.’

So he went.

And she stayed and
watched, waving and blowing kisses, as he collected his medical bags, unlocked the car and drove away. Then she turned and angrily kicked the cool box.

‘Damn! Sod! Bugger!’

It hadn’t made her feel much better. Was there, she wondered, as she wandered disconsolately back across the green lugging the cool box, anything worse than an empty Sunday stretching ahead when every person you knew was happily doing something else?

She glared with unnecessary ferocity at two small boys with fishing nets wading in the shallows of the Nook.

Sophie and Bella, she knew, had gone home to their respective parents for Sunday lunch and family pampering. Gina would be working in the pub. Doug was going to be massively hung over. Everyone in the entire world was doing something.

Apart from her and Nalisha …

Of course she could do boring stuff. Like opening up the shop and waiting for customers. The Old Curiosity Shop was a bit ambivalent about Sunday opening times and Sunday was always Erin’s day off. Doug rarely missed Sunday altogether, though. Especially at this time of year when there were plenty of tourists in the Berkshire villages looking for something to spend their money on. Or there was always paperwork to catch up on, or tidying her knicker drawer.

None of it held any allure at all.

Oooh, sod it!

Then Erin brightened.

Hah! There was still the
mandap
! Yes, Jay had said he’d deal with it, but he had other more important things to concern him now, and she was at a loose end. It was clearly something she could tackle. And she would.

Much happier now
she had something to concentrate on, Erin dumped the cool box back in Uncle Doug’s kitchen, grabbed her mobile, and scuttled into the garden, finding a nice shady spot under the lilac tree.

With Florence on her lap, she kicked off her flip-flops and dialled Deena and Tavish’s landline.

Deena answered. Erin sighed. She’d hoped it would be Tavish. Tavish would have been so much easier to deal with.

With only a brief mention of Nalisha and Kam, and after the initial polite enquiries about health and work, and Erin explaining that Jay was on an emergency call-out so wouldn’t be sharing the phone call, Deena mentioned the wedding plans in general and how she and Tavish hoped that things were all going well.

This was exactly the cue Erin needed.

‘The last-minute wedding plans – well, yes they’re going perfectly, thanks. Jay and I went to the Swan yesterday to finalise the seating plans and –’

Deena giggled. ‘And did you get a lovely little surprise, darling?’

‘Well, we certainly got a surprise. Oh, it was really kind of you, but the
mandap
must have cost a fortune and –’

‘Oh, a mere trifle, darling. If this was going to be proper Hindu wedding we’d have had to pay much, much more than we have. We were simply delighted to be able to contribute something at last.’

‘Yes, and it’s really, really kind of you, but you know we didn’t need you to contribute anything. And of course the
mandap
’s gorgeous, and under different circumstances it might have been exactly what we wanted, but –’

‘As I said in the
note, Tavish and I realise you and Jaimal can’t actually get married in the
mandap
, not with the secular strictures of your ceremony, but maybe for the reception …’

‘No, I’m sorry. I don’t want to sound ungrateful, and I do appreciate how much this means to you, but we’ve already got our reception planned and organised. The
mandap
can’t fit into the dining room at the Swan and –’

‘Nonsense. I’ve been there. There’s plenty of room. And I must say, our side of the family would be absolutely thrilled to see a wedding
mandap
erected. You and Jaimal can sit on the thrones after your ceremony, brief and rather dull as it clearly has to be, and be showered with all the lovely presents and –’

‘Oh, please listen … I’m sorry, but we really can’t use it. We’re not going to be sitting on thrones, and we had already said we didn’t want wedding presents from anyone because we’ve got everything we could possibly want and –’

‘Well, of course, darling, we all understand there are to be no boxed gifts – no one these days wants several toasters or bath towels in the wrong colour, that’s all so old hat, but it’s traditional at Hindu weddings to give gifts of money and sweets and jewellery, and our side of the family will all still expect to do this, even though your wedding is, um, fusion.’

‘Oh, I know about the sweets and things – that’s a lovely tradition and of course, we’ll adore having loads of sweets – but not in the
mandap
, and we want nothing else. Nothing at all. Not money or presents or anything. Oh, I know it must sound so churlish to you, but it’s
our
wedding.’

‘Yes, you’ve made that perfectly clear on several occasions. Quite frankly, I’d like to talk to Jaimal about this.’

‘I’ll get him to
call you later. When he’s back. But he’ll only say the same thing. I know he will. He certainly doesn’t want to offend or hurt you, and neither do I, and I know you were being kind and generous, but you really shouldn’t have sent the
mandap
without asking us first.’

‘And if we’d done that, you’d have said no, wouldn’t you?’

‘Well, yes, but –’

‘Well, there you are then. That’s why we didn’t tell you. Anyway, darling, how long before Jaimal gets home?’

‘I’ve honestly no idea. He’s only just left. But –’

‘No, let’s not say any more. We don’t want to fall out, darling, do we? Not so close to the wedding. Look, the
mandap
is yours to do with as you will. It’s our gift to you. If you feel you really can’t use it for your reception, I’ll have a little word with Jaimal and we’ll have to come to some other arrangement.’

‘But, seriously, we know how expensive it was. If we arranged to have it sent back to you, surely you could claim a refund?’

‘No. That’s simply not possible. And I must say that I find your absolute refusal of a well-meant gift extremely insulting.’

Ouch. True. Erin winced. Back-pedal. Back-pedal – now.

The silence lengthened. Florence stood up on Erin’s lap, stretched and jumped down to find a more comfortable and cooler spot in the herbaceous border.

‘Er …’ Erin mumbled, ‘yes, OK, I’m sorry. I apologise. That was very rude of me. It was just a shock, seeing this huge tent thing, er, the
mandap
, when we weren’t expecting it. And honestly, I didn’t want to insult you, but we simply can’t fit it into our plans.’

‘Apology accepted, darling.’ Deena sounded as if she might be smiling. ‘And as it’s yours now, and you’re a very resourceful girl, I’m sure you’ll be able to find a home for it somewhere, won’t you?’

‘What? No – I mean … Oh, er, yes, probably, possibly, maybe.’

‘Lovely! Now, tell Jay
to ring me when he gets back, darling. And Tavish sends his love and we’ll see you very, very soon. Byeeeee, darling.’

Erin snapped the phone off. And sighed. Heavily.

Oh, bugger.

That hadn’t gone the way she’d planned it all, had it? How on earth had she capitulated so easily? Now, somehow, she’d agreed to keep the
mandap
.

Great.

And what the hell was she actually going to do with something that looked like a bad-taste circus tent?

Oooh, sod it.

‘Erin?’ A voice called over the garden gate, interrupting the gloomy train of thought.

Erin peered through the luxurious foliage but couldn’t see anyone. ‘I’m here – in the garden.’ She scrambled to her feet. ‘Hang on.’

‘OK – I’m just so glad I’ve found you,’ the voice continued. ‘I’ve been ringing your cottage doorbell but no one answered.’

Clearly Doug was still sleeping off his hangover.

‘Just hang on a tick. I’ll unlatch the gate. It sticks a bit.’ Erin, having padded barefoot across the lawn towards the gate, squinting against the blinding white reflected light of the overhead sun, reached the gate and fiddled with the catch.

‘Ah – hi.’

Nightmare.

Nalisha, looking even more stunning than ever, if that was at all possible, in ridiculously high sandals, skinny pink trousers and a fabulous floaty, strappy top, was smiling at her.

‘Good morning.’ Nalisha
raised her enormous designer sunglasses slightly. ‘Oh, Erin, you look absolutely gorgeous. Like a proper girl for once. Are you going somewhere nice?’

‘I was.’ Erin ignored the slight. ‘But not now.’