home with the shoes and everything. Sybs and the rest of the bridesmaids are looking forward to trying on their dresses too.’
‘Then it’s worth every penny to have you happy and excited, love.’
‘Thanks, and so no more grumbling about the cost. Besides, I didn’t hear you complaining when I told you about the sexy, silk underwear I’ll be wearing on the day … I’ve gone traditional on that too and got the garter and frilly-topped stockings to go with it all.’ She nudged him in the ribs and winked saucily.
‘Wow. And I am only joking, love. Honestly, it’s going to be brilliant, and I really want you to have your dream day. Although I’d marry you in whatever you decide to wear, you’re gorgeous just as you are … without stockings and garters and all that palaver.’ He nudged her back.
‘Ah, you’re a big softy too. And I do love you for it. It’s just a shame we opted for a long engagement, if we had got a move on Dad could have given me away,’ she sighed.
‘But your mum will do a fantastic job of it, I’m sure, love.’
‘Yes, you’re right. And she’s very excited too. I talked to her on the phone last night and she was gabbling on so fast about hats and flowers for the button holes and would I mind if she wore a lovely cream suit she’s spotted in the window of a shop in town and could she add her new friend, Sheila, to the guest list because she loves a good wedding and … on and on she went, barely drawing breath. At this rate, it’ll be a wonder if she doesn’t pop with joy before the big day.’
Sonny laughed, checking his watch and standing up. ‘Well, until then it’s business as usual. I’ve got Barry from the hardware store coming by in a bit so I need to get back into the pub.’
‘Oh, it’s early for him. What’s he coming for?’
‘He’s desperate for storage space after his cellar flooded. I said he could use our beer cellar. It’s nice and dry down there. And temperature controlled. You don’t mind, do you?’
‘Of course not,’ she smiled, feeling much brighter now after their heart-to-heart, the excitement bubbling even more at the prospect of having her dream wedding dress soon, not to mention the gorgeous gowns she had picked out for her seven bridesmaids. But then she remembered the wedding cake that was brewing in the temperature controlled cellar. The best place for it in this super hot summer they were having. ‘As long as whatever it is Barry needs storing isn’t going to spoil our wedding cake.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘Well, doesn’t he do key cutting and tool hire too in his shop? It could be smelly old lawn mowers he wants storing. He’ll have to use the old barn if that’s the case ….’
‘Lawn mowers?’ Sonny creased his forehead. ‘They don’t smell.’
‘Petrol ones do. And I’d hate for our wedding guests to bite into a slice of cake and be hit with a horrible petrol taste.’
‘Ah, I see what you mean now. Don’t worry, I’ll tell him all the smelly old lawn mowers will have to go in the barn,’ Sonny assured her, shaking his head and laughing.
‘Good! In that case, I’m always happy to help out if I can,’ she beamed, not wanting anything at all to spoil their big day.
‘And that’s another reason why I can’t wait to marry you. You are the loveliest, most kind-hearted, generous, thoughtful person I know, Cher Hughes.’ And he bent down to kiss the bridge of her nose before ambling back towards the pub.
A week later, and Cher had woken up convinced she could smell smoke. She nudged Sonny before sitting up and pushing the duvet back. It was nearly three o’clock in the morning according to the clock on the bedside table.
‘No, I can’t smell smoke. Go back to sleep, love,’ murmured Sonny, only half awake.
‘I’m going to check. I’m sure I can smell it – I bet there’s someone outside smoking. It smells like cigarette smoke wafting in through the open window,’ she sighed.
Standing up she found her dressing gown, slipped it on over her nightie and went to the open window to look outside. Their bedroom was to the side of the pub where the car park was and it wouldn’t be the first time she had caught groups of lads from Stoneley, the next village, hanging out on their mopeds and sharing cans of lager.
‘Oh come on, Cher, it’s the middle of the night. I’m exhausted and you must be too.’
‘I can’t see anyone in the car park,’ she said, ignoring him.
‘There you go. Maybe you were dreaming. Come on, snuggle up next to me. Let’s have a cuddle and we’ll both be fast asleep in no time.’
‘No, I can’t sleep now that I’m wide awake. I’m going to make a cup of chamomile tea and see if that helps me get back to sleep. Fancy one?’
‘Err, no! I was actually already asleep until a few minutes ago.’ And he turned over and gave his pillows a dramatic thwack as if to emphasise his disgruntlement at being woken up so abruptly.
‘Sorry love, I didn’t mean to wake you up. Go back to sleep. I’ll sit downstairs where it’s cooler.’ And she tiptoed out of the room.
BANG. BANG. BANG. Cher blinked and opened her eyes before going to roll over, only realising at the last minute that she wasn’t in her bed. She was snuggled up on one of the big squishy sofas in the snug. Sitting up sharply and gathering herself, she realised that the chamomile tea must have had the desired effect and that she had nodded off briefly after drinking it. She glanced at the empty mug beside her on the table. What time is it? And what is that noise? The banging started again. It was coming from outside the pub so she left the comfort of the sofa and went to open the door, fully intending on giving whoever it was that had woken her up, a piece of her mind. Surely they didn’t think the pub was still open? But then she realised that the lights in the snug were on. Perhaps the person banging on the door thought there was a lock-in. She knew that Sonny sometimes let a few of the well-behaved regulars from the village stay on after normal closing time on the proviso they were quiet and sensible and didn’t wake up Mark, the village police officer who lived in the police house on the opposite side of the village green, on their way home. This usually happened when she was away visiting her mum or on a training course at the brewery, as late night drinking sessions really weren’t her thing. She liked to feel fresh and alert the next day, not weary after an extra late night.
There it was again.
BANG. BANG. BANG.
The noise was deafening and quite urgent.
They were rattling the door now as if trying to get in.
‘OK, I’m coming,’ Cher said, feeling irritable and tired from nodding off and now being woken up. She knew it couldn’t be one of the locals as they would never make such a racket at this time of night.
‘Cher? Sonny? Are you in there?’
Dr Ben?
She recognised
