‘We will have an amazing day—the best—we’ll have each other and all of you.’ Elsie nodded. ‘What more could Ian and I ask for?’
‘But what about your dress? Or the flowers? What about everything else that has to be decided upon, sourced and ordered?’ Wendy bit down on her bottom lip.
‘Oh, loves. I’m sorry, I’m not meaning to be flippant, but it really will be the happiest day of my life regardless of what I’m wearing, or what flowers are in my bouquet. I’d happily walk down that aisle in my scruffy clothes and my apron. With Ian standing there waiting for me, and the ones I love witnessing, I really don’t know what more I could ask for.’
Diane blew a loose strand of hair out of her face. ‘Okay, we get that. And we’re happy for you, but there isn’t any way we’re letting you walk down that aisle wearing your apron.’ Leaning forward, Diane tapped the table. ‘How would you feel if us girls all got together one night this week and helped you make the decisions so that Molly and Wendy can do their jobs and plan your day?’
Elsie grimaced and looked at Molly and Wendy in turn. ‘I don’t mean to be one of your tricky brides. That’s the last thing I want.’
‘We know. And you’re not.’ Wendy smiled. ‘I think Diane’s idea is a great one. I’ll speak to everyone and see when everyone’s free. If that’s okay with you, obviously?’
‘Yes, it is. That sounds like a lovely idea. A good girlie evening.’ Elsie looked behind her towards the front door of the bakery. ‘I’ll get this cleaned up and then we’d best open. I hate to think of anyone waiting outside in this weather.’
Evie pushed her chair back and stood up. As she began piling the plates, she followed Elsie’s gaze. Rain was pelting down onto the cobbles already. ‘I’ve just thought, I parked my car just up the road on the cobbles. Is that okay, or should I move it?’
‘Just past the ice cream parlour? It’ll be fine there, but if you want it off the road, there’s space down behind the bakery.’ Elsie held out her hands and nodded at the plates. ‘I’ll take those, love. You go and move your car and then we can get you all set up in here.’
‘Are you sure?’ Evie glanced towards the front door as Diane pulled it open, greeting the first customers of the day.
‘Of course I am.’ Elsie nodded to the kitchen door. ‘I’ll let you in through the back door when you’ve parked up.’
‘Okay, thanks.’ Grabbing her coat from the hooks at the bottom of the stairs, Evie checked her keys were still in her pocket, pulled her coat on and braved the rain.
Stepping outside, she looked across towards the beach. The sea was relatively calm and the rain a fine sheen rather than pelting it down as it had yesterday. She took a deep breath. She hadn’t smelt that in ages, years, the smell of the seaside. The air was salty and fresh, hinting at freedom. She’d always loved the seaside. Right up until her ninth birthday. Her mum had organised a day trip to the beach to celebrate. They’d packed up jam sandwiches—her mum had even cut the crusts off, just how Evie had preferred—a flask of hot chocolate and two cupcakes, one each. The car had got a flat tyre just as they’d pulled onto the motorway and Evie remembered her mum forcing her to stand on the grass verge, away from the road. Just in case. She could almost feel the rush of warm air as the large lorries had thundered past, could almost feel the weight of the new-to-her baby doll her mum had given her as a present.
Once the breakdown mechanic had been and changed the tyre, they’d got back on the road, arriving at the seaside mid-afternoon. Evie remembered running down the sandy slope towards her mum’s favourite beach on the Sussex coast. They’d spent the rest of the afternoon paddling in the warm sea, building sandcastles, and writing their names in the sand with their toes.
As the evening had drawn in and the sun had begun to set, her mum had pulled the picnic basket from the car boot, and they’d sat on a blue beach towel eating their jam sandwiches and drinking their now-lukewarm hot chocolate. She’d felt content, happy. When her mum had stuck a stripy pink and white birthday candle in one of the cupcakes and sung Happy Birthday to her, Evie had wondered if life could get any better, if she could feel any happier.
Shaking her head, she walked along the cobbles towards her car.
It had been the day after her ninth birthday that she’d suddenly been able to see clearly, to understand what was going on in her life. Her dad had turned up, as usual, to pick her up for the weekend. Although this time, he’d told her to run back upstairs and grab her swimming costume. She’d done as she’d been asked, excited at the prospect of going to the big swimming pool with the slide that her dad had taken her to the previous month.
As she’d been squeezing her fairy-covered towel and her yellow swimming costume into her pink swim bag, she’d overheard the argument. Her parents arguing. Again. This time it hadn’t been about money, or who got to watch her at her ballet concert. It had been different. The way her dad had spoken, her mum’s tone of voice. She hadn’t understood what they’d been arguing about, not straight away. But when her dad had parked up in front of the caravan by the coast a few hours later. It had begun to make sense. Her mum’s words, her mum crying, her mum accusing her dad of always competing, of buying Evie’s love.
She hadn’t enjoyed their weekend staying in the caravan by the beach. She hadn’t enjoyed flying the kites on the beach, swimming in the sea or even the giant chocolate cake with the swirly icing her dad had bought her. She’d pretend she had, pretended she hadn’t overheard her parents having words, pretended she didn’t understand what was going on.
It had been that weekend, that argument between her parents that had set her on the path to become a solicitor and to specialise in family law. She’d known then that she would never get married. Would never want to find herself in her parents’ position, with or without children. Of course, at nine years old, and only just, she hadn’t known the specifics of the career, not even the job title, but she had known she wanted to grow up and help people when the inevitable happened, when they split up. She’d known she wanted to ease that journey for others.
Slipping behind the wheel, she tucked her damp hair behind her ears and started the engine. It was good to be back by the sea. On her own terms. She reached across to the glovebox and clicked it open. She’d just check her mobile, make sure no one from the office had tried to get in touch with her.
Nope. She wouldn’t. She’d made a promise to herself not to look at it. The office knew she was on holiday. Melissa had promised to have everything covered.