‘It’s what you haven’t done that bothers me, Merrin!’ Her mother dabbed at her eyes with three squares of loo roll that she had folded into a little blotter. ‘I’ve had to make all the decisions with Loretta; she insisted I got involved but I felt like I was at work! It wasn’t fun for me. I’ve helped her choose the centrepieces for the table, picked the font for the invites, I even selected the bloody hymns.’
Merrin knew her mum was upset if she was using the B word. She hated to see her mother so agitated and knew that Digby’s mother could have the same effect on him, remembering the day he had pitched up at the hotel where she was waitressing, his expression downcast as he reached for her and pulled her to him in the car park.
‘You all right, love?’ She had kissed his cheek as he leant against her.
‘I am now. I just needed to be near you.’ He had placed his face on her head and breathed her in.
‘What’s the matter?’ It was rare to see him like this.
‘Do you ever feel like running away?’ He pulled her closer still, as if she were a life force.
She had looked out at the sparkling water and the sun peeking through the light cloud, sending rays down to the sea. Her dad was fixing nets on the harbourside and the door to the cottage was, as ever, propped open.
‘No,’ she admitted. ‘Never.’
‘You’re lucky.’ He had held her eyeline.
‘We’re lucky,’ she corrected.
‘Yes.’ His expression had changed then, as if in relief. ‘We are lucky.’
Heather’s voice drew Merrin from the memory. ‘She’s made it quite clear that I don’t know the first thing about good taste and, in truth, Merrin, once or twice I felt so cornered I nearly ran away from her, but God only knows the trouble that might have caused between you and Digby, so I stayed put.’ Her mother took a deep breath, as though trying to calm herself.
‘You get married in a few hours and I have done my level best to give you and Digby a special day, one that you will both talk about for years to come, one that will make Aunty Margaret and the Mortimers realise that we are a family to be reckoned with, that Daddy is someone too!’
‘Why do you care what Aunty Margaret or the Mortimers think? It’s my wedding, not theirs! All I care about is making a home with Digby, looking after him . . . waiting for babies!’ She smiled.
Ruby mimed retching and put her two fingers into her mouth. Merrin ignored her.
‘I know that, but a wedding is so much more than the event; it’s about showing your family and friends how successful you are by how much you spend and by the amount of thought that goes into every little detail’ – her mother held up her hands as if in prayer, reciting words that sounded suspiciously like someone else’s – ‘like whether you should have the bloody sides of your hair up or down!’
There it was, the B word again. Merrin sighed. ‘And there was me thinking it was about making a commitment for life.’
‘It is! Of course.’ Her mum smacked the arm of the chair. ‘But that doesn’t mean we can’t use the opportunity to show off to certain members of the family.’
‘Actually’ – Merrin walked over and kissed her mum on the top of her head – ‘I’ve had a little think and I think sides up. Definitely.’
‘’S what I said: sides up,’ Ruby confirmed.
Mrs Kellow seemed to soften in the chair, slumping a little and nodding. Her expression was one of relief.
‘I just want it to be nice.’ She kept her voice and eyes low.
‘We all do, Mum.’ Ruby spoke softly with only the vaguest hint of sarcasm.
The air crackled with nervous tension.
Merrin looked out of the window at the thickening cloud and wondered if it were too late to elope? The thought of her and Digby alone without Ruby offering cutting asides and with an Elvis impersonator who had no desire to impress Aunty Margaret had never been so appealing.
CHAPTER TWO
MERRIN
‘I can’t do this!’ His voice was loud and warbling. The sound of someone on the edge.
Merrin looked towards the narrow corridor as her dad came from the bathroom, racing into the kitchen in his boxers, socks and shirt with the collar poking up under his chin and the cuffs flapping over his hands. ‘I feel like a trussed-up turkey!’ he moaned. ‘I can’t get the collar stick things in the little holes and I can’t do the cufflinks by myself. I don’t know how people put a suit on every day. It’d kill me! Why in the name of God do we have to get dressed up like this? As if today wasn’t going to be stressful enough; I don’t see why I can’t go in my best trousers and—’
‘Sports jacket!’ Merrin and Ruby finished his sentence, laughing and pointing at each other on cue. He had been moaning about his hired attire since they had collected it from the shop in Truro two days ago, keen to point out he had a perfectly serviceable navy sports jacket that had only been worn a handful of times in the decade he had owned it.
Merrin watched as her mum stood, arms outstretched, willing as ever to help the man she loved, walking over to him with her head on a tilt, as if he were a child that needed placating. She loved how they interacted and relied on each other, knowing it was something she and Digby would build for themselves too.
‘Come here, love, and don’t go getting in a tizz.’ Her voice bore the soothing tone she reserved solely for him and her girls when they were a little under the weather. Ruby and Bella smiled as they looked on. Ben getting in a tizz and his wife having to calm him down was a standard occurrence. They seemed to thrive on it.
By the flustered look on her dad’s florid face, Merrin knew her mum’s work was not yet done. With deft movements, Heather plucked the collar stiffeners from her husband’s palm and inserted them into the little slots, while he raised his neck and poked out his chin. Next, she carefully folded his cuffs and placed the fiddly cufflinks into the holes. Finally, she patted his arm.
‘There.’ She kissed his nose. ‘Look at you, Mr Kellow, you look very handsome.’
‘You are only saying that because it’s true!’ He bent and kissed her cheek in return. ‘Thanks, my lovely.’
‘It’s true, Ben, you’d give that George Clooney a run for his money today,’ Bella enthused.