baby-pink Team Bride dressing gown is looking daggers.
I’m ready to take my camera and go. ‘I have won stuff, but for pictures of food, not brides. Things like …’ I rack my brain for anything to block out Luc and his engagement ring. ‘Country Living Food Campaign of 2016 for my sausage casserole shots?’ Sausages? That sounds worse than nothing now it’s out.
‘Right.’ Six faces are giving me bemused stares.
‘I’m really sorry. I started off in food design, but I moved across to photography after a massive roast beef and meringue debacle.’ I take in the bridesmaids’ expressions getting more horrified by the second. I know this isn’t the moment to babble my entire life story, but I can’t stop. If my feet weren’t welded to the spot, I’d already be out of here.
‘One moment.’ Zoe lifts up the hair tong wire. ‘It’s good you’re not on the catering team. Show me what you’ve got so far.’
As I move in and flick through the frames, she’s nodding. Then she pushes back a stray hair grip and grins up at me. ‘For an assistant, I’d say you’re acing it. Don’t forget, it’s my first wedding too.’
I can’t help but smile back at that. ‘So you don’t mind if I stay?’
Zoe laughs. ‘I’ll throw a bridezilla fit if you don’t. Jules is lovely, but it’s nice to have a woman around too. Especially if you’re taking pictures like those. How about you go and beg some leftover cupcakes from Poppy before you expire?’ From the way Zoe’s taken command from her hairdressing chair, I suspect she might be an army general in her day job. ‘We’ll all feel better after some of those. Better still, bring back some pictures of what’s going on outside.’ She nods beyond the door.
‘Brill, back soon, then.’ I don’t need to be asked twice to escape. As I yank my camera bag onto my shoulder and dash out into the hallway I can see Poppy amidst a sea of tables and chairs. She’s deep in discussion with Lily from the shop, who is here sorting the styling and the flowers.
Poppy grins as I skid to a halt on ancient floorboards, polished to a sheen. ‘How’s it going?’
I give a shrug. ‘Getting there.’ It’s not ideal to be this anxious to leave the wedding venue when I’ve barely been here half an hour. ‘What are you doing here anyway? I was coming to find you in the kitchen.’
Now her bump’s getting bigger, Bart’s nephew Kip, who is Lily’s new boyfriend, is supposed to be taking over Poppy’s wedding work here. And since Kip started work as wedding manager, and Poppy’s got more pregnant, she’s supposed to stay in the part of the farmhouse where she and Rafe live, for at least some of the time.
Poppy wrinkles her nose. ‘Kip and I are still in the hand-over phase. I’ve been working with Zoe all year to make today perfect. It’s hard to let go.’
Lily pulls a face. ‘We’d have to tether Poppy to the Aga to keep her away today.’
I sense I’m treading on proverbial eggshells here. ‘Zoe’s asking for spare cupcakes. Does that help at all?’
Poppy sighs and rubs her tummy. ‘Okay, we’ll have to go back to the kitchen for those. But remember, I’m not broken, I’m simply growing a small person.’ Poppy and Rafe have only known about their surprise baby for a couple of months, and it seems like they’re still catching up.
From the ease with which Lily chimes in, it’s an ongoing problem. ‘Eighteen hours on your feet at a wedding isn’t ideal when you’re this far pregnant, though.’
‘I’m fine. Most pregnant women these days go straight from work to the labour ward.’ Poppy brushes away Lily’s concern and nudges me towards the front door. ‘Come on, Holly, let’s get those cupcakes. The first rule of weddings – if the bride’s hungry, feed her. Otherwise she may explode.’
‘Great.’ I store that nugget for when Becky gets married. And make a mental note to forget it the day after.
As I follow Poppy outside and along to the part of the house she and Rafe live in, Immie is ahead of us in the courtyard, showing a group of early wedding guests towards the holiday cottages. It’s great to see so many of our friends all pulling together in such a brilliant team. The people where I work are more colleagues than friends, and we rarely go out after hours. I’m asking myself when Rose Hill became so buzzy? Or when my fabulous life in London became so quiet in comparison? Although even if it’s temporarily shrunk to nothing, I definitely wouldn’t swap it.
After the cold breeze that blasts us as we hurry up the cobbled yard, the farm kitchen is deliciously warm. Jules wasn’t joking about the cameras weighing a ton. As for me being a lightweight, I’m holding my hands up to that already.
I slide my bag onto the table, rub my cramping shoulder, push the kettle onto the Aga and reach for a mug. ‘I’ll make you some tea while I’m here, Pops.’ At least then she’ll have to stay to drink it.
Poppy shuffles a stack of cake containers. ‘I’ll give you vanilla ones. We can’t risk chocolate smudges before the ceremony.’ She frowns at me as she hands me a box. ‘You look like you could do with one now.’
I’m already regretting skipping breakfast. ‘Chocolate stains won’t show on leopard print, will they?’ It’s worth a try.
Poppy answers that with a beam. ‘That’s my girl. How many?’
‘No more than two.’ I’m feeling mean that I’m only passing her ginger tea in return. ‘I don’t want to spoil my appetite for the vanilla ones.’ Now I’m back in the normality of the kitchen, sinking my teeth into soft chocolate butter cream, I’m reluctant to leave.
Poppy squeezes my arm as she sinks onto the bench. ‘It’s lovely to have you home, Hols. We’ve all been hoping we might tempt you into coming back here full time.’ By the time she drops that bombshell, she’s looking innocently out of the window. ‘To live, I mean.’
‘What, and leave London?’ If I sound shocked, it’s because a move back is in the wrong direction entirely. We spent all our time at school plotting how to get away. For Poppy, it was all about the lure of the bright lights. Whereas for me, I was desperate to get to a place where I could be anonymous. Where I wouldn’t always be the girl whose much more popular sister died.
She laughs. ‘I did it and I survived. It’s different when you get a bit older.’ From the way she bites her lip and looks guilty, she’s going to push it. ‘It isn’t as if London’s brilliant for you right now.’
I sigh and try to shut out that I just had the same fleeting thought. Then I make sure I get the right tone of bouncy. ‘I might be back in my old flat share, in a room the size of a shower cubicle. But I’m at the hub of the action. What’s not to like?’ The worst thing is that my social life dematerialised when Luc left. And a year on, it’s not looking up. All enrolling at woodwork classes and zumba did for me was give me splinters and a pulled hamstring. But coming back to live here isn’t an option. I try to sound jokey, yet firm. ‘Me moving in with the oldies and working in an ice- cream kiosk? That would go down a storm when my parents are doing their best to leave home themselves.’ So happily, it’s not a choice I’ll need to address.
Poppy leans towards me. ‘This is why we’ve all got our fingers crossed for you today, Hols. Strictly between us, now we’ve expanded, there are too many weddings at Daisy Hill
