Two Weddings and a Baby (24 page)

Read Two Weddings and a Baby Online

Authors: Scarlett Bailey

Tags: #Fiction, #Romance, #General

BOOK: Two Weddings and a Baby
4.37Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

‘It’s brilliant!’ Joe said, his eyes wide and wired, and Tamsyn couldn’t imagine him sleeping at all for the rest of the night, if ever.

‘Not exactly whiskers on kittens, is it?’ Tamsyn said, amused, despite herself.

‘You wait and see,’ Cordelia said, catching Tamsyn’s sceptical look. ‘Fear is a very exhausting emotion. Once all that adrenaline has drained away they’ll sleep for hours.’

‘Well.’ Tamsyn looked at the room, wishing there was a corner free that would fit her and Mo. ‘I guess I’d better go and get some rest before the sew-a-thon in a few hours.’

‘Are you OK, sweetheart?’ Laura asked her, smothering a yawn. ‘Have you taken on too much, what with Mo and the dresses? You looked flushed; I do hope you haven’t picked up that lurgy that’s going round.’

Well, Tamsyn thought to herself, she had come down with something, but it wasn’t anything as easy to get over as the flu. Was there a scientific name for the fever brought about by kissing a man who quite clearly felt the whole thing had been a terrible mistake – no, worse than that – possibly even a sin?

‘Are you missing your Bernard?’ her mum said, insisting once again on pronouncing his name the English way, as if he were some Northern comic. So far, Tamsyn had escaped a thorough grilling from her mother on the subject of her French lover. Clearly her mum had just been biding her time.

Tamsyn thought of Bernard: sexy, self-centred, unpredictable and yet so basically uncomplicated. Bernard, who always kissed her exactly when he meant to, and meant it whenever he did. He never wondered about the consequences of his actions, because the concept of self-doubt was entirely alien to him. Yes, actually, she thought that she did miss him and the easy feelings she enjoyed whenever she was with him, which were nothing at all like the muddle and mixed-up feelings that the embrace with Jed had stirred up in her.

‘I suppose I do,’ Tamsyn said. And ignoring the questioning, concerned look in her mother’s eyes, she pulled herself together long enough to say, ‘Well now, I need to sleep before this little one decides she wants a chat again, otherwise I might accidentally sew a massive bow onto the back of Cordelia’s dress.’

‘Sleep,’ Cordelia commanded, gesturing at five children who were now dozing off peacefully amongst the adults. ‘And if you are having any trouble, I’ll come down and tell this tale I know about the Blue Lady of Poldore, who once stayed in the very room you are staying in … until she jumped to her death! Mwah-ha-ha!’

‘Hmmm,’ Tamsyn said, ‘I don’t think she’d have had much worse than a very nasty broken ankle if she’d jumped from my window. But still, thanks for trying. Goodnight all.’

As Tamsyn eased herself between the cool, clean sheets, her hand still on the carrycot, because Mo seemed to sense it at once if she dared remove it, she closed her eyes and thought of Bernard, and the playful way he would look at her when the urge to take her to bed would suddenly grab him; his dark eyes, the sensuous mouth, the expertise with which he despatched with her clothes, the polite passion that ensured she was always satisfied before he was, the friendly embrace afterwards, that Tamsyn was sure always lasted the exact same amount of minutes every time, before he was up making an espresso and smoking out of the window, whatever time of the day or night it was. Theirs was an affair with order and routine, albeit with some laughter and passion. She wanted the deep, yearning pain that seemed to have formed in the pit of her stomach to be about missing Bernard, she really did. And yet she had this strange, sneaking suspicion that she was longing for a man who was probably right this minute not sleeping on a sofa in the room that was almost directly below hers, a man who’d found what they had done tonight deeply troubling and difficult. A man who, when all was said and done, would probably never even consider a relationship with a woman – a heathen, even – like her. After all, what did she and Jed have in common, apart from Mo and the ability to create the best kissing that history has ever known?

Chapter Twenty

Of course it had been Sue Montaigne who had worked out the complicated sewing and embellishing rota for the dresses. In no time at all she had the volunteer seamstresses sitting around the great table, their sections of material carefully labelled and numbered, their instructions taped to the polished surface of the table, their faces looking expectantly at Tamsyn as the very early morning sunshine swept in through the gallery windows.

Tamsyn realised they were waiting for her to say something, which was a shame because she didn’t think she had the power of speech any more. In fact, she was fairly sure that her brain had switched talking off as non-essential power drainage, because she was running almost on empty on energy.

‘Ladies,’ she said, testing her tongue on the word. ‘And gentleman …’

She nodded at a man in his sixties who was sitting at the furthest corner of the long table, flirting outrageously with the woman sitting next to him. Sue had told her that Kenneth had joined the sewing circle after his wife left him for another woman and that he hadn’t looked back since.

‘Thank you so much for giving up your time to come together and make this happen for Alex and Ruan. I know that you all know them really well, and that they mean a lot to you – if they didn’t, you would be mopping out your own houses instead of being here. And I’m very grateful that you have all given your time – not to mention your independently verified expertise – to make their day special.’ She was rewarded by a little Mexican wave of smiles and nods. ‘Now, if you follow the design and the schedule as detailed in your personalised set of instructions produced by the logistical genius that is Sue here, then there will be no problems. As soon as you’ve finished your job on your piece of fabric, pass it to the next person on the list and by the end of today we will have four stunning bridesmaids’ dresses and one wonderful bridal gown fully assembled and waiting for a final fit. I will be constructing, boning and embellishing the bodice of the bridal gown myself, so I will be in the Solar.’ Tamsyn had learnt from Sue that this was a posh person’s name for the conservatory. ‘And that’s where you need to bring the skirt panels to me for assembling once they are complete. I trust you to finish the bridesmaids’ dresses yourselves. Thank you again for your help. Sue tells me there is unlimited tea, coffee and cake available, but no food or drink items in the workroom please. Um, so that’s it, thank you.’

Tamsyn blushed as the force of volunteers applauded her, and hurried off before she did something silly like cry, or ask them what they would feel like if they’d done half-naked kissing with a vicar under the kitchen table.

The Solar, an aged and dilapidated moss-covered construction off the courtyard, was pleasingly cool on this hot June day. It was shaded further by long-neglected rubber and cheese plants that seemed to be its only organic occupants and that had reached Triffid-like proportions. Best of all, she was able to open a door out on to a small walled area that had once been a kitchen garden, but that was now overrun with wild flowers and butterflies.

Sadly, in amongst the rails and rails of clothes that Sue had locked away in the attic, there had been no tailor’s dummy, so Sue had had Rory bring in a neoclassical nude statue from the overgrown secret garden, and although her proportions bore no resemblance to Alex’s, at least the smooth white complexion gave Tamsyn a guide for her colour scheme.

‘Well, then.’ Tamsyn started as Kirsten walked into the Solar, looking very much like she wanted to leave it again.

‘Well then, what?’ Tamsyn asked her.

‘You said you wanted me to help you,’ Kirsten reminded her. ‘Sort out beads, or some shit.’

‘Oh,’ Tamsyn blinked. ‘It’s just that you weren’t overly enthusiastic when I mentioned it. But oh, good, good that you are here. Go up to the attic – here’s the key – there’s all these skeins of ribbon up there, can you bring some down? Here, take these swatches to colour-match, white, blue or ivory. And while you are there, have a look at the hats – you’ll see piles and piles of hatboxes in the corner. They are so cool. I have half an idea about little hats, but I haven’t seen what’s there yet, so you can find some good ones for me.’

‘Really?’ Kirsten took the key with a distinct look of mistrust in her eye. ‘You want me to go and pick out hats, like, choose hats? The ones I think are the best?’

‘Yes. Does that seem really lame?’ Tamsyn asked her.

‘Yeah,’ Kirsten said, but she was smiling as she rolled the key between her fingers. ‘Lamest thing ever.’

Tamsyn was smiling to herself when Kirsten paused in the doorway.

‘Where’s the kid?’ she asked. ‘Is she OK?’

‘She’s fine, she’s with Jed,’ Tamsyn told her, adding carefully, ‘You seem very interested in her well-being.’

‘I just know what it feels like to be left by your mum, that’s all,’ Kirsten said. ‘I feel sorry for her.’

‘Well, maybe her mum will come forward,’ Tamsyn said, trying her best not to sound too pointed, but Kirsten had already gone.

‘Tamsyn, are you in there?’ Tamsyn had only been alone a few minutes when a voice called from the other side of the internal door. ‘Can I come in?’

‘Er, no,’ Tamsyn said. ‘I’m making you a surprise wedding dress, remember?’ Tamsyn had already covered the glass windows nearest the courtyard in dust sheets to keep out prying eyes.

‘Yes, but I was thinking, I always thought the bride got to oversee the creation of her dress,’ Alex said. ‘And decide what she liked?’

‘Darling, this isn’t Debenhams,’ Tamsyn called back. ‘My job as your designer is to create the dream dress you didn’t even know that you dreamt of. Trust me.’

‘Well … can I send Buoy in to a have a look?’

‘Are you serious?’ Tamsyn laughed, supposing that knowing Alex’s bond with the dog, she probably was. ‘Hold on a minute, you nutter.’

Selecting an offcut of thick black satin that she’d been toying with but discarded, she went out into the hallway and, seeing the look of concern on Alex’s face, smiled as she tied the makeshift blindfold around her.

‘This has all gone a bit
Fifty Shades of Grey
,’ Alex joked as Tamsyn guided her back into the conservatory.

Tamsyn smiled down at Buoy, who seemed clean and dry, and at least – unlike his offspring, Skipper – was past the stage of wanting to chew everything that moved, and everything that didn’t, just to be on the safe side. Buoy, it seemed, was much more interested in the little garden, full of fascinating things to sniff at and apparently not claimed by any other alpha dogs in decades.

‘I’m not sure why you’re letting me in, if I can’t see it,’ Alex said.

‘Because you are the closest thing I have to a tailor’s dummy, dummy, and I need to do some fitting. Stretch your arms out. No – to the side.’

Before the sewing circle had arrived, Tamsyn had made Cordelia donate her best black satin gothic rock-star bodice, the one that had come from Agent Provocateur, to the cause. It was very well made, so Tamsyn had taken it to pieces, in order that she could use its innards to structure and bone Alex’s bridal corset. Now she had Alex, she was able to place the support rods in exactly the right place and check the various bits of underwire that she had collected from some of Alex’s bras that Gloria had sneaked out to her first thing.

‘That tickles,’ Alex said, as Tamsyn worked out her strategy.

‘It will be worth it, won’t it, Buoy?’ Tamsyn said to the dog, who, having returned from claiming the garden as his sovereign right, sat leaning against an old Lloyd Loom chair, eyeing her with what looked like a healthy dose of disdain.

‘You think you can get away with just sitting there, being all doggy,’ Tamsyn told him, pausing to plant a kiss on his head and whispering in his long ear. ‘But what you don’t know is that Mo and I have got plans for you, oh yes we have.’

‘Did you get any sleep at all last night?’ Alex said. ‘I feel like me and my wedding have rather taken over your life.’

‘I didn’t get much sleep,’ Tamsyn confessed. ‘Sue told me that babies start waking up after the first few hours when they find out how boring sleeping is, and she was right. But it’s a good thing, really. It’s stopped me thinking.’

‘Thinking about what?’ Alex asked her, turning her head.

Tamsyn wondered for a moment about what she should say, if anything. It had been a very long time since she’d truly had a confidante, a best friend that she could say anything to. She was close to her sisters, at least as close as a person could be when they lived on the other side of the Channel, but it was a closeness born out of years of proximity. The last person she had really been able to talk to about anything without fear of judgement was Merryn. Would it be a betrayal to confide in Alex, Tamsyn wondered briefly? And then she decided Merryn would have been pleased that Ruan had found the right woman in the end. She would have liked Alex a lot; it was hard not to. Tamsyn bit her lip, unable to stop herself from wondering what an amazing, incredible life Merryn would have gone on to have, if only she hadn’t taken the boat out that morning.

‘I kissed the vicar last night, mostly naked,’ Tamsyn said, at last. ‘Well, earlier this morning, to be precise.’

‘Pardon?’ Alex looked, even blindfolded, in the direction of Buoy, who, raised his shaggy brows in reply. ‘Did you just say that …?’

‘Yep, me and Jed did topless kissing.’ Saying the words out loud made her feel unbelievably foolish and indiscreet. But she couldn’t tell Alex where or how the kiss came about, she wouldn’t do that. It was just that she couldn’t bear not to tell someone about it. It was as if she just had to say Jed’s name out loud, so that she could hear it, feel the texture of it on her tongue. Remind herself that it had actually happened.

‘Flip!’ Alex said.

‘I know,’ Tamsyn said. ‘And other, much worse swearwords than that.’

‘I mean, don’t get me wrong, Ruan is the only man for me, but Jed is hot,’ Alex emphasised the last word. ‘What was it like?’

‘Amazing,’ Tamsyn said miserably. ‘Like the best and most amazing kiss that I have ever had in my life.’

‘Are you saying you have feelings for Jed?’ Alex said, her hands flying to the blindfold, and Tamsyn batted them away at once.

Other books

The King's Daughter by Christie Dickason
A History of the Future by Kunstler, James Howard
Flint Lock (Witches of Karma #10) by Elizabeth A Reeves
I'll Never Be Young Again by Daphne Du Maurier
Remote Consequences by Kerri Nelson
Her Prince's Secret Son by Linda Goodnight
Too Rich for a Bride by Mona Hodgson
Troll-y Yours by Sheri Fredricks
False Gods by Graham McNeill