A Merry Mistletoe Wedding (10 page)

Thea took in the scene in the garden before they got to the kitchen doors. Anna was holding the baby and her face looked decades younger than usual as she looked on him with fond softness. Mike was down at the end of the garden with Jimi, pushing Milly on the swing. Jimi stood to one side, trying to cup a sly cigarette out of sight of Rosie.

‘Ah – here they are,' Emily said. ‘About time – didn't we say seven? The food will be here in a couple of minutes. I wouldn't have kept it waiting – nobody wants it cold.'

‘Lighten up, Emily,' Sam told her. ‘They're not late. Drinks? Who's driving?'

‘Neither of us,' Sean told him. ‘We got the train and we'll get a cab back.'

‘In that case, we can all give the baby's head a thorough soaking,' Sam said as he poured generous glasses of champagne.

‘Are we doing a toast?' Thea asked, hesitating before drinking.

‘Not yet. Not till later, if at all. Depends on Madam's mood.' He indicated Emily and then said in a near-whisper, ‘She's a bit up and down, to be honest. If she's snappy, don't take it personally. Anyway, come out and have a proper look at the little sod. See if you approve.'

Thea took her time approaching Anna and the baby. Her mother looked almost Madonna-ish holding him. Maybe it was all the shades of flowing blue she was wearing, and her straight, shoulder-length hair pushed back. She doubted that the Virgin Mary had worn twenty silver bangles, though, and scarlet feathery earrings.

‘Ah, Thea, come and see. He's absolutely beautiful.'

Thea held out her hands to take the baby from Anna, slightly scared of getting the handover all wrong, but suddenly there he was, in her arms, hardly weighing more than one of Alfie's soft toy animals. She sat down at the garden table, feeling the need to be safe from any risk, however minuscule, of falling. The baby snuffled and half opened his eyes and briefly looked at her. ‘Hello, you,' she said. ‘Aren't you just lovely?' And he was. She took in his perfect tiny features, his mouth that was making little sucky sounds. ‘Oh and your fingers, so long and so perfect. Nails like tiny pearls.' She'd held babies before, been the first to see Alfie at the hospital after his birth six years before, but this one – he was the first since she'd actually contemplated the possibility of having her own one day.

‘It really suits you,' Sean murmured close to her.

‘Suits you like a dress?' Milly popped up between them, having overheard.

Thea laughed. ‘Not a lot like a dress, Milly-love, no.'

‘Cos you can't wear a baby. Unless you put him on your head like a hat. But then he'd wake up and fall off all the way to the ground and then he'd—' She stamped her foot hard on the grass.

‘Milly! Time to get your 'jamas on,' Sam interrupted just in time.

Thea looked up at Emily, who had come out of the house and gone wide-eyed. She was holding out her arms for her baby. ‘I'll take him inside and put him down. I don't want him to get chilled – and also the food has arrived,' she said, quickly taking him from Thea.

‘What's his name?' Sean asked, taking hold of Thea's hand. Emily looked puzzled.

‘Erm … I don't know. Ned. I think Ned.'

‘You don't
know
?' Jimi was laughing at her and she went pink.

‘Yes, of course I do. It's Ned, isn't it, Sam?'

‘I like Ned. Yeah, Ned Michael,' Sam agreed.

‘Not Edward?' Mike asked as they went into the kitchen and sat at the table.

‘No. I just want one syllable,' Emily said. ‘I can only cope with one.'

Thea saw Mike and Anna give each other a look. Was Emily being odd? It was hard to tell. She could be spiky at the best of times and maybe every woman went a bit funny after a baby. Thea had been heartbroken after her own miscarriage, especially as well-meaning friends and family had said all the wrong things, misguidedly sure they were being comforting. ‘You're still young enough for lots more' had been the favourite. Emily had cut straight to the heart of it, saying, ‘Maybe there was something wrong with it. Or with you,' even while she was hugging her. Thea had almost laughed at such breathtaking bluntness.

Sam took more champagne out of the fridge, topped up the glasses and Mike proposed a toast to the baby's long life and good health. Sean and Thea sat together, still holding hands, as they got through as much food as they could manage. Afterwards, Thea looked around the table, taking in how happy everyone seemed about this lovely new baby. Was this a perfect moment for good news? She hoped so.

‘Aw, you two,' Charlotte said, ‘all loved up.' Thea grinned at her. She looked at Sean and he nodded, tapping a spoon against his glass. Everyone fell silent, looking at the two of them.

‘We've got a bit of – No, actually a huge lot of an announcement to make. Go, babe,' Sean said to Thea. ‘You tell them.'

‘OK. Everyone, er – oh, this is so exciting and I've been dying to tell you and now's the moment and I'm so happy I'm trying not to go
bang
! So … me and Sean, we're going to get married!'

‘Oh, that's
wonderful
,' Charlotte said, getting in first and rushing round the table to envelop them both in a hug, her cleavage almost scooping Thea up as she flung her arms round her. ‘I
love
a wedding, me.'

‘Darling, how wonderful!' Anna said. ‘I'm so happy for you both.' She got up and came to give hugs to Thea and Sean. ‘When and where?'

Thea took a deep breath. ‘Well, we decided we'd have a Christmas one. In Cornwall, something very low-key. Just a very small, simple affair and then maybe later a party in the spring for friends up here in London.'

Through the melee of congratulations and clinking of glasses came a sound like a growl from across the table. ‘I told you before, I'm
not
going to Cornwall,' Emily declared, glaring at Thea and Sean. ‘And now you've hijacked the evening, Thea. It was supposed to be about
me
and the baby.'

‘Er, us and
our
baby,' Sam murmured, collecting up some of the empty plates.

‘Actually, I think the words you're really looking for right now, Emily, are: “Congratulations, how brilliant and all good luck,”' Jimi told her.

Emily said nothing, just stared at the table.

‘Emily?' Anna reached across the table and put her hand on her wrist.

‘She
knew
I never, ever wanted to go there again. All that
snow
!'

‘There won't be snow.' Sean laughed. ‘That was a crazy meteorological one-off. It hadn't happened in two centuries before that, so you know, come on, man, what are the chances?'

‘No way.' Emily shook her head. ‘Get married up here, why don't you, Thea? After all, you're the bride. You get to choose. That's of course if the wedding actually happens. You've been engaged before and with plenty of fancy wedding planning half done and it all came to nothing.'

‘I
did
choose. Or rather, we chose
together
,' Thea told her, pushing back her chair and standing up. She could feel her eyes filling with disappointed tears. It was time to go. ‘And you know what, Emily, whatever you think about the venue, if you can't even be arsed to be just that
teeny
bit pleased for us, not even give us
one
word of congratulations, then really, I don't think we need you to be there at all.'

It was now more than halfway through October and only nine weeks till Christmas and still Thea hadn't sorted out a wedding dress or any catering and so on. It was as if she'd put the whole idea of the wedding on hold since the row with Emily. They hadn't spoken to each other since and although her mother kept urging her to talk to her sister and make it up, she felt stubbornly that it was for Emily to apologize, even if she didn't actually change her mind about Cornwall.

‘She's just had a baby, Thea; her hormones are all over the place,' Anna had reminded her, as if she needed to. ‘She'll come round when she's got herself a bit more together. Be kind. She won't miss your big day, not when it comes down to it.'

What Anna didn't know was that Thea had gone to see Emily two days after that supper, taking flowers and a little pair of sheepskin mitts for the baby. She'd hoped the two of them could have a quiet talk and she could tell Emily how much it would mean to her to have her there at her side when she got married. But she'd been told by Sam at the front door that Emily was resting and wasn't feeling like seeing anyone. He'd looked apologetic and a bit shamefaced – and well he might because she could hear Emily calling out something to Milly in the kitchen. So she'd handed over the presents, told him to send love and tell Emily she'd like to see her soon. But she'd had no contact from her since, not so much as a cursory thank you. Her gesture had been completely ignored. It hurt, but she didn't want Anna worrying about it. This was between her and her sister.

At school, the children were starting to buzz about Christmas and each morning there was at least one of them bragging that they were getting an iPad for Christmas and another upset because they weren't.

‘They're a materialistic bunch, aren't they?' Jenny commented in the staffroom. ‘It's all about
stuff
.'

‘That's kids for you,' Thea agreed. ‘I remember thinking the world would end if I didn't get a Cabbage Patch doll one year. I think Mum had to trawl every toyshop in London to find one for me. They were
the
present that year.'

The days were getting colder and greyer but with those delicate touches of soft autumn sunshine that light up the changing leaves and make you want to get out in the fresh air. The shops were filling up with Christmas stock and shelf after shelf in every supermarket was labelled ‘Seasonal' and crammed with the kind of food that nobody really eats, like candied ginger and preserved mandarins.

‘So you've started your shopping then?' Mrs Over-the-Road was walking her West Highland terrier as Thea unloaded groceries from her car boot, ready to take them into the house and sort out what was to stay here and what was to go with her at the weekend for half-term with Sean in Cornwall.

‘Shopping? Nothing special, it's only the usual from the supermarket,' Thea replied, wondering what June was referring to.

‘The cards have been in the shops for weeks now. Wrapping paper too. You have to get in quick with paper. Leave it last minute and they're clearing the shelves ready for Valentine's,' June warned, peering into Thea's shopping bags.

‘Oh,
Christmas
shopping, you meant. Sorry,' Thea said, the fog of incomprehension beginning to clear.

‘Yes, of course I meant Christmas. What else would I mean? They've been having a visiting Santa in Asda for weeks now. You can feel it in the air, can't you?' June pulled her coat close round her and shivered a bit to emphasize her point. ‘In the mornings, it's properly dark. I like dark in the mornings. I don't trust those long summer days. You shouldn't be getting up hours after it's already broad daylight. It's all wrong.'

‘You'd be a happy bunny in the Caribbean then, June,' Thea told her, trying to gather as many carrier bags together as she could so as to avoid making two trips into the house and back. ‘It's pretty much twelve hours of day, a quick sunset and a precise twelve hours of night, all the year round. Very organized.'

June sniffed. ‘Organized but very hot. We British aren't meant to be hot. It makes us itch. It's why we like Christmas: lots of woolly things to wear and plenty of good traditional food.'

‘So you'll have got your Christmas cards already then?' Thea said, slamming the car boot shut.

‘Me?' June laughed. ‘Oh, of course, dear. I always buy mine in the January sales and most of the presents as well. You can't be too far ahead of yourself, that's what I always say.'

‘Christmas is ages yet, June. There's plenty of time,' Thea said.

June gave her a look that told her she was in serious Season Denial and started to haul the little dog over the road to her home. ‘It's not ages at all. Especially at my age. Time races on and it's all you can do to keep up with it. But if you don't, you fall off the edge. And you're not getting any younger either; before you know it, time will have caught up with you too. Make sure you don't leave everything to the last minute.'

Well, thanks for that, Thea thought, feeling a bit unsettled as she trundled her shopping through to the kitchen. Thanks for the big reminder that the old biological clock was ticking ever more loudly in both ears. If that's what June actually meant. She probably did. Once a woman was into her mid-thirties people seemed to think it was perfectly acceptable to comment on her lack either of a husband, baby or both. Only a week ago, the head teacher Melanie had told Thea that if she was thinking of leaving the job, then to remember to give a full term's notice. Thea hadn't even hinted about leaving: as she'd said to Jenny, she wouldn't want to leave her class halfway through the year. It would feel irresponsible not to take them through the full three terms. So where did that comment come from? Anyone would think they were back a hundred years ago when women had to give up teaching if they married. She was on the lookout for jobs in Cornwall though, and if the perfect one came up then maybe she'd just have to jump at it.

With or without Emily on board, if they were to go ahead with getting married at Christmas, she needed to get on with preparations. She'd heard that Emily was not only refusing to go to the wedding but was now hardly venturing out of the house. Thea had tried texting and emailing her – she wouldn't respond to phone calls – but had had no response.

She and Sean were opting for the lowest of low-key events because neither of them liked fussy weddings, but even this would need some effort. Paul, Sean's partner in the Cove Manor rental business, had taken over the running of his father's ancestral home, Pentreath Hall, and its wonderful orangery was booked for the actual ceremony, which would be quite early on the morning of Christmas Day as the registrar had plans to go on to help out at a homeless shelter later. Afterwards, they were planning to have a beach barbecue as a sort of wedding breakfast instead of a full-scale reception, but that still needed a bit of organizing, even if it was only a matter of deciding whether to go for sausages or kebabs and how much drink to get.