This Is Your Life (23 page)

‘You are funny,’ she told Lizzie.  ‘I
thought you liked him.  Why didn’t you stay and talk to him?’

Later on, bone-numbingly weary, Lizzie collapsed on the grass in her front garden with a rather stroppy Darren, who was rubbing against her knees and telling her how neglected he was feeling.

‘Evening all, um, am I interrupting…?’

Lizzie leapt up. ‘Tom?’

She loved how he looked
.  Kind of a bit scruffy, in those worn faded jeans, and an equally faded t-shirt and his skin had caught the sun in just a couple of days – it suited him.

‘Fancy some company?’ he asked, slightly
awkwardly, ‘of the human variety that is?’

‘Oh sorry
…um… come in!’ Tom was still standing on the other side of the gate.

Lizzie
dithered.  ‘Would you like a drink of something?  Tea?  Beer?’

‘
Beer would be great…’

He followed her into the little kitchen
with Darren stalking watchfully behind, and looked around appreciatively. It was basic inside. All the estate cottages were, but it was quirky and homely where Lizzie had added her touch, and felt fresh and welcoming - he liked it.

‘You wouldn’t want to be up at the house right now,’ he offered, as if by way of explanation for his
being here. ‘Ma is a little stressed because two of the cousins had cancelled and now they’ve changed their minds. They’re trying to reorganise the table plan or something. For about the twentieth time I think. Susie’s running around tying black ribbons on all the trees, and the old man’s forgotten to unearth the fairy lights. Haven’t a clue where Rich is,’ he frowned.

Come to think of it, Shar seemed to have disappeared too.
Weddings. Was it
really
worth it? He just didn’t get what all the fuss was about. Lights and ribbons and all that malarkey…

Weddings, Lizzie was thinking at the same
moment. If I ever get married, she thought, it’ll be on a beach, barefoot in the sand a stone’s throw from the ocean…

‘Shall we take these outside?’ she suggested, holding two beer
s.

As they sat on the rickety chairs which Tom had looked at somewhat dubiously,
Lizzie tried to explain how she’d left London and come to be living in Littleton, while Tom told her about the business that he and Rich had started, selling once in a lifetime holidays in exotic locations.  Neither had noticed the time passing, until Tom looked at his watch.

Draining
the last of his beer, he stood up. ‘Rather reluctantly, I think that my conscience is telling me that as the bride’s brother, I really should return to the madhouse, and help with tying black ribbons on sheep or something. Tell me, am I the only one who thinks black is odd for a wedding?’

Lizzie
laughed.  He obviously didn’t appreciate his sister’s inner goth. ‘It’s not black, it’s dark green and you must know by now what your sister’s like…’

They walked down to the gate together.

He turned to look at her. ‘You’re coming tomorrow aren’t you? I’ll see you then.’ He kissed her on the cheek. ‘It should be quite a party. It usually is when you get all our lot together. See you there!’ He loped off up the lane, leaving Lizzie standing, touching her hand to her cheek.

Lizzie awakened as the
rising sun filtered through her curtains. Lying sleepily for a few moments, with a start, she sat bolt upright and was out of bed like a shot. Pulling on jeans and a t shirt, she rushed downstairs to put the kettle on.

As it
boiled, she quickly brushed her hair and put on a little make up, thinking of Tom. Reminding herself of every detail of last night. It was only a drink, she told herself, so don’t go getting excited about him. Just a beer in the garden.   That’s all.
Oh, but there was more.  There was that kiss of course. Don’t forget the kiss…

Up in the Woodleighs’ stables
, Lizzie had a posy to make for Susie. Picking the darkest of the roses, she tied them all together with a velvet ribbon which matched Susie’s dress, and then started on a smaller version for Shar. Setting aside another dozen roses for buttonholes, she gathered what was left to take to the church. 

The village was still asleep as
Lizzie drove as quietly as she could down to the church. Tying bunches of roses into the ivy that framed the door, doing the same to the ivy-covered columns inside, she threw the loose petals she’d collected down the aisle.

Without stopping, she was back
at the Woodleighs again, arranging the vases on the tables in the marquee. Yet more petals were scattered on the tablecloths, and as in the church, she tied bunches of roses everywhere until every last one had been used.  And that was it.  She’d actually finished...

Just then,
Lizzie heard voices, and then Bella appeared through the caterer’s entrance. She stood there in silence just looking at it all.

Oh no
, thought Lizzie, a sinking feeling in her stomach.
It’s not what she wanted, she doesn’t like it…

Bella’s walked over to Lizzie and kissed her on both cheeks.
  ‘It’s lovely’, she said quietly, ’just beautiful. And
so
Susie…I really don’t know how to thank you. It’s just, well, a million miles from what we were going to have before you got involved. Thank you Lizzie, thank you very much.’

‘And now,’ she added, ’I better go and find the bride. She was just a
little
overwrought at breakfast…’

Left alone in the marquee, Lizzie looked around with relief.  She agreed - it did look good, but this was most definitely a one-off and next time a mad bride asked for help, she already knew what she’d say.  Gardens were one thing – weddings another altogether.
God she was looking scruffy…
time to get out of here before she ran into Tom.

She’d gone by the time
Tom snuck in to the marquee. Great, no-one here yet. Now, where
did
they put that table plan....Oh. So Lizzie was bringing Leo after all… He felt a flicker of disappointment. 

Lizzie had two hours. As she lay soaking in the hot scented water, the faintest breeze floated in through the open bathroom window. She could just imagine the mayhem at the Woodleighs – an overexcited Susie, a stressed Bella and everyone else wondering what the fuss was about as they dressed in their finest.  Including Tom… Closing her eyes, excitement rippled through her. 

By the time she’d
dried her hair, pinning up half of it in a messy knot and leaving the rest cascading down her back and put on the Sparkie’s dress and sandals, when she caught her reflection, it surprised her as much as the first time.

Up the lane in the bride’s boudoir, Susie had been on her second glass of champagne when Shar, in her friend’s best interests of course, firmly removed the bottle from her dressing table.

‘As chief bridesmaid,’ she’d
announced, completely soberly of course, ‘it’s my duty today to save you from yourself. Susie! You’ve had enough!’ And with that, she’d disappeared.  Trapped by the stylist, protesting loudly, but unable to move while her hair was being transformed into a mass of pre-Raphaelite curls, there was nothing Susie could do.

Shar danced down the landing and knocked on another door
a few rooms down. Shutting it quickly behind her, she grinned at Rich and kissed him firmly on the mouth. Then she brought out the bottle from behind her back.

’Surprise!’ she giggled. ’I stole it from Susie, I told her she didn’t need any more! No glasses, though, sorry! Want a swig?
’ She giggled again. But Shar didn’t need it either – she was high enough already, on love and life. But hey, today they were celebrating. He took the bottle and put his arms around her. He had plans of his own. This was definitely going to be a good day.

Leo wolf-whistled.  He could never bring himself to completely give up on a girl and he grinned with amusement as she blushed.

‘
Babe, you look sensational…’  Lizzie could feel his eyes scrutinising her approvingly.

‘You don’t look so bad yourself.
..’ she retorted, which was true.  The white shirt showed off his tan and he looked too bloody sexy for words in his morning suit.  Ok, so she’d sworn off Leo but her body hadn’t quite got the message.  Make no mistake, he’d be breaking hearts thick and fast before the day was out.

‘Shall we?’  He offered her his arm.

There was
a certain magic in the air as Lizzie and Leo walked down the lane to the church. Cars already lined the sides of the lane and more were roaring up and down looking for somewhere to park. There were Jags and Land rovers, old and new, and quite a few Porsches.  Everyone was dressed just as Lizzie had imagined in posh frocks and morning suits with more than a few outrageous hats, she noticed, as she and Leo slipped into one of the pews near the back. All the candles had been lit, and the scent of the roses filled the church. As the guests filtered in, it looked more and more like a fairy tale - all you could see were the people, the candles and the ivy and trees towering over them.  It was like an enchanted wedding in the middle of the woods.

The music was beautiful too, and when Susie arrived in her deep green dress which
clung to her tiny waist and billowed out behind her, everything was perfect. Lizzie couldn‘t help but feel a bit sorry for Mr Woodleigh,  squashed uncomfortably into a suit that looked at least two sizes too small for him. Shar looked stunning as the only bridesmaid, her green eyes glowing as she followed Susie down the aisle, stopping only to wink at Rich as she passed him.

And afterwards, the bells rang
out joyfully in the anxious hands of Eucalyptus, while everyone filtered out of the church and handfuls of confetti fluttered over the newly-weds as umpteen photos were taken. There wasn’t a cloud in the sky. It was just how a village wedding should be, thought Lizzie, if you didn’t mind the fact that the bride’s dress was almost black and her roses were darkest blood-red.  The merry crowd eventually trooped up the lane to the reception and though Lizzie looked, she’d only glimpsed Tom in the distance.

Fortunately
there were no errant sheep, nor would you know there ever had been as the guests crowded onto the lawns, sipping champagne.  And as they found their way into the marquee, all around Lizzie could only hear the ‘oohs’ and ‘aahs’ as people looked admiringly around.

‘
Shall I tell them,’ whispered Leo in her ear.  ‘That it was your fair hands that created this masterpiece…’

‘Don’t you dare!’ said Lizzie.

‘But hey Lizzie, honest, it looks cool…’

As she studied the table plan, Lizzie felt someone close behind her, then the hairs on the back of her neck prickle as a voice said in her ear, ‘I was rather hoping to see you…’

But he was interrupted by one of the guests.  ‘Tom, darling!  How simply marvellous to see you…’

Lizzie stood back as the speaker, a thin woman with a hooked nose, monopolised him and she drifted away to find Leo, who was already sitting at their table, deep in conversation with the pretty brunette to his right.

‘Babe – meet Honey!  She’s one of Susie’s cousins…’ 

Leo had obviously wasted no time.  Honey stared at Lizzie, slightly confused.

After a sublime meal of the Woodleighs’  home grown lamb, and  the most delicious white wine Lizzie had ever tasted, she was enjoying herself. Watching the master at work was amusing – Leo was on fine form.  And a couple of tables away every so often Lizzie felt her eyes flicker towards Tom.

Even from where she was sitting, it was obvious t
here was
something
going on between Rich and Shar.  You’d have to be blind not to have noticed.  He couldn’t take his eyes off her, and her eyes shone with love, Lizzie was sure of it, as she leaned in to listen to him, then fell about laughing.  You just knew, that if they’d been the only people there, they’d have still had the best time ever. 
Was that how it was
wondered Lizzie, when you found that person you belonged with.

Then it was time for the speeches, when Susie’s father’s words brought a tear to Lizzie’s eye and everyone raised their glasses yet again as Susie and Rory cut their funny cake.

What a rip-roaring party it was; Lizzie couldn’t remember the last time she‘d laughed so much.
Leo was at his entertaining best, and had both her and Honey in stitches with his various hilarious anecdotes. As Leo disappeared in search of another bottle of wine, Lizzie seized her moment.

‘
Honey!  He isn’t worth it!  He’s the worst flirt ever!  After being a vet, it’s what he’s best at…’

‘So he’s
not
your boyfriend?’  There was a glimmer of what looked like hope in Honey’s eyes.

‘Absolutely no way
.  He’s a health hazard.  Damages hearts,’ she added hastily, watching Honey’s eyes light up. 

As Lizzie mingled among the guests, she heard a voice beside her.  ‘More champagne?’  It was Tom holding two glasses, one of which he offered to her.

‘Thank you.’

‘You seem to have been deserted…’  He nodded towards where Honey was sitting, head to head with Leo.

‘How can I put it… Leo can’t resist a flirt…He’s quite good fun and he’s sort of a friend, I guess, but that’s all…’

Tom was still frowning.  ‘So, you’re not…’

‘
With
Leo?  Oh no, quite definitely not…’  Her eyes twinkled at him.  It seemed Nola and Julia had been right.

‘Oh…’ The truth was dawning on him.  ‘
Well, er, would you like to join us?’

She followed him over to a half empty table, where he pulled out a chair for her, taking one close beside her.  His arm brushed momentarily against hers, sending little electric shocks flying between them.  It felt inevitable somehow.  Like Lizzie couldn’t have stopped it if she tried.

‘I didn’t know,’ confessed Tom.  ‘I
always thought you and Leo were a couple, otherwise I’d have switched the seating plan and you could have sat here instead of my deadly cousin Dora… Susie’s idea of a joke, putting her of all people next to me…’

‘Anyway,
I’ll fill you in about some of this crowd that I’m lucky enough to count as family…’

As Lizzie looked around, this eclectic mix of the oldest and oddest of the Woodleighs seemed among the most extraordinary collection of individuals she’d ever come across. They had a certain style too.  Grand but in a mothballed kind of way.

‘Stay well away from old Jasper
.  Over there, in that ancient suit…’ Tom nodded towards an angular, bony looking man of about fifty-something, who was cruising around the marquee, a shifty look in his eyes.

‘He’s a notorious groper with terrible breath I’m reliably informed, to be avoided at all costs!
I’ve never got close enough to find out!’ 

U
rghh, thought Lizzie, quite revolted.

‘Oh,’ Tom continued, ‘
and over there’s another cousin Rebecca, known as Bex, absolutely without doubt out off her head on some illegal substance or other.’

Lizzie looked disbelievingly at the expensively dressed, regal looking blond weaving around the dance floor with a vacant look in her wide blue ey
es. It reminded her immediately of Tilly. 

‘Now,’ Tom grinned, ‘here comes Auntie Melons, so named for two obvious reasons
.  We don’t actually call her that, though I don’t think she’d notice,’ he added in a whisper.

‘Auntie Melanie,’ he stood up and offered her his chair. ‘Can I get you a drink?
  This is Lizzie. I’ll be back in just a tick, and don’t you dare tell her any of your stories about my misspent youth!’

He winked at Lizzie, as Auntie Melons leant towards her
squashing her ample bosom against her, and taking her arm conspiratorially. She was probably in her late seventies, guessed Lizzie, and was wearing a tailored dress and jacket in Queen Mother blue, with the ubiquitous pearls. Her pale grey hair was carefully curled and her face powdered, but her pencilled-on eyebrows didn’t match at all, giving her a permanent air of surprise.