Mother of the Bride. Kate Lawson
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get the rest of this stuff stowed.’
‘A few celebs would really add a certain something to Jess’s wedding.’
‘That’s right, Phil, a security nightmare and lots of photographers elbowing my family out of the way so they could get a good shot of some bird with a trout pout and a sprayon tan.’
‘But you got on with them really well.’
‘That’s what I’m paid to do, Phil, I got on with that clown in a bear suit but it doesn’t mean I’m going to invite him round for tea.’
‘So where’s Jess having her engagement party?’
Molly looked up from the box of electronic oddments she was currently packing away under a seat. ‘What?’
‘The engagement party. I mean, presumably she’s having one, isn’t she?’
Aware that she had her mouth open Molly closed it fast and said, ‘Phil, I only just found out that they’re getting married. I don’t know what she’s having yet, or come to that where or when.’
But Phil was on a roll. ‘When my sister got married we had this big engagement party at the Norwich Arms – and my parents put an announcement in The Times. And then there was the stag night and hen night. We had a great time. My sister and my mum and all my sister’s mates flew to New York, and the blokes all went to Amsterdam, and then my parents organised a do for the groom’s family so we could all meet up and get acquainted before the big day.’
Molly decided that she had heard quite enough. ‘Fish and chips?’ she suggested, nodding towards the parade of shops that fronted the little harbour.
Phil grinned. ‘Do you want me to go and get them in case someone nicks the van?’
Molly glanced at the EAA radio car. Painted in the station’s livery, it was an unmistakable mix of orange, pink and lime green with ‘EAA’ emblazoned down one side and across the roof. At least if it was involved in a police chase it would give everyone a sporting chance of picking out the right vehicle.
‘We’ll eat in,’ she said.
While Phil finished off the lock-down, Molly broke out the lipstick and dealt with the ravages of headphone hair.
‘My sister used a wedding planner,’ said Phil conversationally as they headed off across the car park and joined the queue outside French’s chippie, where holiday-makers were gathered two abreast.
Molly wasn’t really listening; her stomach was rumbling, she was tired and they still had to get back into Norwich to drop the radio car off before going on to a management meeting.
‘They asked me to be an usher. We all had these cravats and cummerbunds that matched the bridesmaids’ dresses.’ He mimed.
Molly settled into line. ‘The wedding planner, was it a person or a wall chart?’
‘She was called Cheryl-Ann. She did all the arrangements at the hotel where my sister had her wedding. She was very keen on themes.’
‘Who, your sister?’
‘No, Cheryl-Ann. She had a whole book full. My sister brought it home for everyone to have a look through – pirates, princesses, wenches.’ He grinned. ‘And that was just for the civil partnerships. My sister picked this one Cheryl-Ann had done before called Spring something or other – there were a lot of daffodils involved and a lamb.’
Molly decided not to ask whether the lamb was gambolling up the aisle with a ribbon round its neck or on the buffet in slices.
‘Hello? Hello, Dad, can you hear me?’
In a cottage on the Somerset coast, Jess was curled up on an enormous floral sofa that dominated the tiny sitting room of the place Max had rented for their romantic break. Despite it being summer it was chilly and Max had lit the fire. Mobile phone pressed tight against her ear, Jess was straining to pick out her father’s voice amongst a sea of static.
‘Puss?’ said a familiar voice. ‘You there?’
‘Dad? Dad? Is that you? How are you?’
‘Fine. We got your email. Congratulations. Sorry if the line’s a bit strange but I’m using some sort of internet phone thing that the chap here’s rigged up for me. I just wanted to let you know that we’re delighted. Aren’t we, Marnie? Absolutely delighted – couldn’t be more pleased for you. Presumably you’ve already told your mother?’
‘Yes, I rang her a little while ago,’ said Jess, enunciating every syllable in case he missed some important detail, her finger wedged in her other ear so that she could concentrate on his voice. Max was watching her from the armchair pulled up at the other side of the hearth.
Her father sounded as if he were a million miles away.
‘How’s the holiday going?’ she asked.
‘Fine. I’ve had Delhi belly and Marnie has come out in some sort of a rash – we’re having a lovely time,’ he said, without a hint of irony.
‘So where are you?’
Jess heard him turn away from the phone and say, ‘Where are we again?’
Her father, Jonathon, had an innate distrust of all things foreign and when Jess and Jack were small had refused to take them anywhere abroad for holidays and only begrudgingly travelled there for business – there being anywhere other than Britain.
After her parents had split up and Jonathon had married Marnie they had come to a compromise, based on the two of them taking frequent cruises, which Jess suspected was acceptable only because her father felt that cruising wasn’t so much travelling as moving a little piece of England closer to all those countries Marnie was so keen for him to see.
‘We’re somewhere in…’ He hesitated as if waiting for a prompt. ‘Croatia.’ He made it sound like the outer reaches of the Horsehead Nebula. ‘We went to see some thing this morning and I think Marnie’s planning to go and see more things tomorrow. But anyway, never mind me. You and Max – it is Max, isn’t it? Well done, I’m really pleased. We’re really pleased. Obviously we’ll need to talk about the arrangements for the wedding and what your plans are when I get back. I want to see the cut of his jib and all that – make sure his intentions towards my little girl are honourable.’
Jess winced at her father’s idea of a joke.
‘So, have the pair of you set a date yet?’
‘We were thinking maybe Christmas – well, December anyway.’
‘Ah, right. December? So not that far away then. Have to get your skates on with the planning. You say you’ve spoken to your mother?’
‘Yes.’
‘And what did she say?’
‘Not much but I’m sure we can sort it out between us.’ Jess put her hand over the receiver. ‘Do you want to talk to him?’ she mouthed to Max.
Max shook his head. Meanwhile her father was saying, ‘I’m sure you’re right, Puss, and your mother has always been good at that kind of thing. Okay, well, look, why don’t the two of you come over as soon as we get back home? Not quite sure when that is – I’ll ring you. Lost all track of time, you know how it is with holidays.’
Jess smiled as they said their goodbyes; what her dad meant was that he didn’t know when they were due home because Marnie had made all the arrangements.
‘Are you going to ring your mum and dad now?’ she asked, waggling the phone in Max’s direction after she had rung off.
He shook his head. ‘No, I don’t think so. I was thinking