Maddy’s Christmas Wedding (Little Duck Pond Cafe #37)

CHAPTER THIRTY

Later, as I dashed home after my shift, I was mentally going through my wardrobe working out what to wear.

Laurel had managed to convince me that it would be far better to be with my friends at the Snow Ball than sitting in alone on a Saturday night with nothing but the TV for company.

I had a long crimson-coloured dress that I’d worn before to a formal function. It had received quite a few compliments and I’d felt good in it. The dress was sleeveless, cut away over the shoulders and neckline, and it was one of those body-hugging dresses that enhanced your curves in a flattering way. That would do! I’d put my hair up and wear the dress with nude heels and my fake fur wrap.

It was snowing – coming down quite heavily – as I peered out of the window, looking for Ellie’s car. Laurel was driving along to the manor and I’d said I’d meet her there.

Spotting Ellie and Zak pulling up outside, I grabbed my bag and dashed for the front door. One of my heels skidded on the parquet flooring of the hallway and I almost came a cropper, steadying myself just in time. I bent to straighten the doormat – and that’s when I saw it.

The corner of a letter, peeking out from under the mat.

It must have been there when I dashed in from work but it had been hidden from view so I hadn’t noticed it. Feeling suddenly nauseous, I retrieved the letter and stood there for a few seconds, my heart beating fast. It had the surgery’s postmark. My GP must have received the results of the echocardiogram, along with the other tests, and was now forwarding them on to me.

A car horn peeped, jolting me back to the present.

I needed to go. So I shoved the unopened letter into my bag and picked my way daintily down the stairs to the main door in my heels. Outside, I navigated the snowy pavement and slid into the back seat, grateful for the enveloping warmth of Ellie’s car.

‘The seller was highly amused by our offer apparently, according to the estate agent,’ said Ellie, catching my eye in the rear-view mirror. ‘No surprises there, of course.’ She glanced across at Zak, who turned and grinned at me.

‘It’s not funny, Zak!’ scolded Ellie, although I could tell she wasn’t annoyed. Well, not too annoyed. I think deep down she’d always known buying the run-down house could only ever be a pipe dream.

‘I agree. It’s quite the opposite of funny,’ Zak bantered back. ‘So thank goodness you’ve got me to keep your feet on the ground.’

Ellie aimed an exasperated swipe at him but he ducked out of the way, grinning.

‘What’s it like to be so insufferably clever and insightful that you squander the opportunity to buy our forever home?’ She shook her head, still pretending to be cross.

‘Forever home? Forever disaster, you mean.’

‘Oh, shut up!’ snapped Ellie good-naturedly. But I saw the loving smile that passed between them and my heart was suddenly aching for Jack.

Where are you? You should be here tonight, holding my hand! Making me laugh . . .

Ellie drove cautiously on the snowy roads. Approaching the Brambleberry Manor estate, we followed a black Mercedes and a silver-grey Jaguar into a sign-posted side entrance. The track meandered through some trees before eventually delivering us to the rear of the manor house, where a man in a hi-vis jacket was guiding cars into an orderly parking grid. Ellie joked that maybe she should have left her little rust bucket car round the side at the servants’ entrance! Spotlights shone, lighting up the courtyard. But we were in for a real treat when we walked round to the front of the house.

Twin coach lamps illuminated the imposing main doorway, and on each side stood a magnificent pine Christmas tree, sparkling with red and gold baubles and twinkling fairy lights.

Snow had settled on the roof and the window ledges, giving the impression that the manor house had been iced like a Christmas cake. And nearby, illuminated by the light from the Christmas trees, was a beautiful and very life-like reindeer with her two smaller off-spring ‘grazing’ in the snow. Each was wearing a cute red hat and scarf, trimmed with white fur.

It was the perfect setting for a festive romance movie. The only thing missing, I reflected, was a giant red bow to wrap around the house like a Christmas present!

Inside, the champagne was flowing the moment we entered. Coats were removed and borne away to who knew where, and my eyes widened as I took in the sight and evocative scent of the pine branches, fresh green foliage and red berries that had been wound around the rails of the imposing central staircase, all the way to the top.

Marjery, Fen’s mum, was so good at planning parties like this.

I wanted to take photos to show Jack, but I resisted, thinking I’d probably look a bit naff snapping away among all these grandly dressed people.

We stood where we were for a while, to one side of the main hallway, sipping our champagne. I was quite enjoying the chance to people-watch – it was fascinating seeing the mix of people Marjery and Will had invited to their annual Christmas party – and I could tell from Ellie’s rapt silence that she was thoroughly enjoying it, too.

Then Fen found us and we chatted to her about the twins being upstairs in bed.

‘Rob and I are taking it in turns to sit with them. This house is so huge, we’d lose them for weeks if they wandered off!’ she joked. She held up the large bottle she was carrying. ‘More champagne?’

‘Yes, please.’ I held out my glass, surprised to find that it was almost empty and Fen obliged with a smile, filling it to the brim.

‘Your parents have pulled off another triumph, by the looks of things,’ smiled Zak.

Ellie nodded. ‘They always do. It’s all so beautiful. That’s down to your mum, of course.’

Fen smiled affectionately. ‘She does do parties well. She loves it! This is the one time of year when she’s allowed to go to town and splash out. The rest of the year they’re tightening their belts and attracting in as many visitors as they can during the tourist season so they can actually pay for the upkeep of this place.’

‘You’re so lucky to have been brought up here,’ I murmured. ‘To have all that as your own private playground.’ I indicated the extensive grounds, which included a lake and woodland.

Fen smiled. ‘It had its moments. But actually, most of time I just longed to be normal and live in a semi-detached house in the village, preferably next-door to my best friend.’

We all chuckled at that.

‘We’re never happy, us humans,’ observed Zak.

‘There’ll be music in the drawing room in a minute,’ said Fen, glancing at the grandfather clock in the corner. ‘Mum’s hired a local quartet this year and they’re really good. I heard them tuning up. They’re playing jazz versions of Christmas songs, amongst other stuff.’

‘Sounds lovely,’ said Ellie.

‘See you later!’ Fen smiled and went off with her bottle, offering champagne to a nearby group.

‘Don’t I recognise her?’ I peered over at the tall woman in a sweeping black velvet dress and a tiara perched in her blonde, flicked-back hair. She looked to be in her fifties. Very elegant. And definitely familiar.

‘Oh, my goodness, it’s her!’ hissed Ellie. ‘That horrible woman who owns the wedding boutique. Remember?’

My eyes widened. ‘Of course! I knew I’d seen her somewhere. You were in the boutique with me, looking at wedding dresses. Poor Annalise was working for her at the time and she totally got the brunt of her boss’s bitchy bad humour!’

‘Thank goodness Annalise saw sense and left.’

‘I think she was fired.’

‘What for?’

‘Spilling Buck’s fizz all over someone’s blouse. But the thing was, it wasn’t even Annalise’s fault.’

‘You’re right. It wasn’t,’ whispered a voice at my back.

We all swung round and there was Annalise herself, having just arrived with her grandmother and her boyfriend, Jensen.

After a round of hellos and introductions, I nodded in the direction of Wedding Boutique Woman. ‘What’s her name? It’s something grand but I can’t remember it.’

‘The Right Honourable Marguerite Goldsworthy.’

‘She’s not really a Right Honourable, is she?’

Annalise laughed. ‘No. She just acts like she is. The truth about the Buck’s Fizz calamity is that she bumped into me and sent me flying, but Marguerite blamed me for spilling the drink all over the client and she sacked me! Although I have to say, it turned out to be a blessing in disguise. I’m loving working with you, Ellie, organising and demonstrating at the Pudding Club evenings.’

‘They’ve been a great success,’ smiled Ellie. She turned to Annalise’s grandmother. ‘And speaking of success, we were all delighted to hear how well the kidney transplant went. You’re looking amazing, Dora.’

Dora smiled. ‘All thanks to my lovely granddaughter.’

‘It took a while to convince Loli that accepting one of my kidneys was a good idea,’ smiled Annalise. She always called her grandmother ‘Loli’ – it was a name from her childhood that had stuck. ‘But we got there in the end.’

‘We did indeed.’ Dora smiled. ‘And it’s thanks to you that I’m now fit enough to do some serious walking. We’re off to the Lake District for a few days during Christmas week.’

Annalise squeezed her gran’s hand. ‘Just like we used to. I honestly never thought we’d be able to do that again, did you?’

‘I did not,’ admitted Dora. She smiled mischievously. ‘I’m still not sure how you managed to convince me that giving me one of your precious kidneys was a good thing to do and wouldn’t compromise your own health.’

‘Persistence,’ laughed Annalise. ‘I always knew it was the right thing to do. And it’s all worked out wonderfully. You’ve got more energy than me these days. Oh, here’s Katja and Jaz with their partners. And Laurel.’ She waved and they came over to join us.

‘Anyway, shall we move into the room with the music,’ I suggested to everyone. Spotting an approaching waiter, I finished my champagne, popped the empty glass on his tray and picked up a full one.

‘Good idea,’ agreed Annalise, her eyes flicking a little anxiously towards her former boss. ‘Otherwise, we might end up having to exchange polite chit-chat with Marguerite and I’d really rather avoid that if I can. I don’t want my party mood ruined.’

Ellie and I chuckled, and we moved en masse through the hall towards the drawing room, from where the sentimental strains of Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas was reaching our ears. The sound of the saxophone always touched me emotionally – and I felt a pang of longing for Jack.

If only he was standing here beside me, so handsome and sexy in his dark suit and tie.

But he wasn’t, so I swigged back more champagne and looked around for a waiter.

*****

The night was going okay – mainly because I was getting stuck into the champagne like there was no tomorrow!

That’s not to say that the company wasn’t great. Laurel and I, the two ‘temporary singletons’, had been chatting together for the past hour, although she was beginning to get a bit boring, saying I should maybe have a soft drink next – or even better, stick to the softies from now on. Because otherwise, I was going to have a terrible hang-over the next day.

I was a bit merry. But I wasn’t so drunk that I didn’t realise she was probably right. Next time a waiter came round, I had a lime and soda instead.

And then, just as the quartet announced they’d be taking a half-hour break, into the drawing room burst two little excited balls of mischief in the form of Lottie and Liam.

‘Oh, no!’ gasped Fen beside me. She ran forwards to catch Liam before he dived headfirst into a low table full of glasses, while luckily Lottie ran over in my direction so I was able to grab her and swing her up into my arms.

‘My goodness, you’re heavy,’ I laughed, staggering a little from the champagne as well as the unexpected giggly bundle in my arms.

And then Rob appeared at the door, looking harassed and like a man who needed a drink.

‘They’re here,’ called Fen, and he acknowledged this with huge relief.

‘I turned my back for no more than three seconds and they ran off!’ he explained.

He took Lottie from me, then he and Fen shepherded the children out of the room, Fen apologising to everyone as she went.

‘Say night-night to everyone,’ said Fen at the door, and the twins obliged, looking suddenly rather shy at being faced by all these big people smiling at them. Both children had chocolate smears around their mouths, evidence that Rob hadn’t quite got to the teeth-cleaning yet!

Everyone was chuckling and finding the whole thing amusing – well, everyone except Marguerite, who was standing with the little group of people next to us. I happened to glance at her and she looked as if she’d accidentally chewed on a wasp!

‘Did you see that? How ridiculous!’ she said scathingly. ‘People can’t seem to keep their children under control these days. And why do youngsters these days feel such an urge to populate the planet, anyway? It’s disgraceful. I’ve never seen so many teenagers in charge of prams!’

‘To get a council house?’ said a man in her group. ‘And hand-outs.’

Marguerite nodded. ‘So irresponsible, giving birth multiple times and then expecting tax-payers like us to keep them in baby milk! And then of course you’ve got the people who think it’s their right to give birth. So if they find they can’t have a baby, they’re immediately off having all sorts of weird treatments that are completely unnatural. Egg donors, IVF . . . inseminating themselves with turkey basters. The world’s gone totally mad.’

There were a few chuckles at this.

‘And if you ask me,’ she swept on, ‘it’s usually so they can either boast to their friends about what their darling little sprog did at school today (yawn-bore) or have somebody to look after them when they’re old and infirm.’

‘That’s a very cynical attitude, Marguerite,’ someone pointed out. ‘How much champagne have you had?’

‘Oh, I speak as I find.’ She waved her glass about, spilling some on the carpet.

‘But children are our future,’ said someone else.

‘Yes, of course they are. But my point is, don’t have them unless you’re prepared to teach them proper behaviour and good manners. As it is, they charge around being disruptive and believing they’re the centre of the universe. Case in point tonight. Children these days are so entitled. In my opinion, they should be seen and not heard, and it’s the parents’ responsibility to make sure that happens.’

I’d been listening to this speech with a growing sense of disbelief.

She was spouting utter rubbish and people were actually listening. Some even seemed to be agreeing. But I’d caught Ellie’s expression when Marguerite mentioned IVF so dismissively. Ellie’s hand had gone to her tummy and she looked quite emotional.

‘I need another drink!’ announced Marguerite. ‘Waiter?’ She looked around expectantly.

‘I’m guessing you don’t have children yourself,’ I said, unable to keep silent any longer.

She turned with a puzzled look. ‘Pardon?’

‘Do you have children?’

‘I’m not sure what business it is of yours,’ she said snottily. ‘But no, actually, I don’t.’

‘I thought not. Because if you did, you’d know that far from being disruptive annoyances, children are actually a gift and a blessing. My friends, Fen and Rob, are the most loving, fabulous people you could meet. How dare you stand there accusing them of being somehow lacking as parents to Lottie and Liam! They’re actually the perfect parents and what we all saw just then was normal behaviour from toddlers?’

There were murmurs of agreement at this.

‘Oh, well, that’s your opinion,’ said Marguerite, holding onto her dignity, although her face had gone bright red. I could tell she wasn’t used to being contradicted like this.

I was aware that the whole room was looking at us, including Marjery and Will, but the subject matter felt far too personal to ignore. I’d been an emotional wreck when I’d arrived and her ignorant monologue about children had only made me feel worse. Plus, the champagne had loosened my tongue.

‘It is my opinion,’ I snapped. ‘I have friends here who are going to make the most brilliant parents. But for a long time, IVF seemed to be their only hope. It didn’t work for them but it’s worked for so many couples who would otherwise never have got the chance to be parents. Would you really deny them the chance because it’s an “unnatural treatment”?’

Trembling now, I felt Ellie’s hand on my arm. ‘And what about the people who can’t have children, for one reason or another. No fault of theirs. They just . . . well, circumstances mean it’s impossible. Are you going to tell them that it’s probably just as well because there are far too many “sprogs”

in the world as it is? You’re just a nasty, ignorant woman, Marguerite, and you really haven’t a clue what you’re talking about!’

I was actually shaking. Then my gaze fell on the shocked faces around me, finally landing on Marjery. She looked as shocked as everyone else and I felt tears of shame welling up. I had to get out of there.