From the table in the window of the fish and chip shop, Jessie and Ella had a superb view of the harbour, the lighthouse, the boats, and crucially Saint Elisabeth’s, the pretty little church hollowed into the rock below the cliffs. The setting was tremendously photo-op worthy, the whole picture reflected in the still mirror of water like the soft shapes and colours in an Impressionist painting.
‘How’s my hat?’ Jessie attempted to see her reflection in the shop-front glass. She had discovered in her crammed wardrobe a long-forgotten, timeless pale grey linen trouser suit, and was relieved that it still fit. ‘Can I hold my own hobnobbing with the Tinsel-towners?’
‘Très à la mode,’ said Ella, slightly biased since she had styled Jessie’s last-minute accessory, the snazzy top hat that Callum had unearthed during their nosey around the upstairs rooms. With the addition of a scavenged peacock feather, a sparkly brooch and some bright metallic ribbon, the upcycled hat transformed Jessie into someone zany enough to belong in the circus – kind of!
‘Really?’
‘Yes, really. You’ve got it bang on – precisely the right balance between wedding day chic and circus fantasy.’
Jessie arched an eyebrow. ‘I’ll take your word for it.’
Sporting her self-styled clown-suit, in a neutral-ish silver-grey silk, carefully thought-out to both fit the theme but not draw too much attention, hers and Jessie’s outfits were not dissimilar.
‘You’re playing matchy-matchy. Anyone would think you ladies planned this. Your hats are fab.’ Rosie, the owner of the chip shop, locked the door and checked the sign had been turned to “Closed”. An old school-friend of Layla’s, she was going to the wedding and when she had seen Jessie loitering with Ella outside in the street, she invited them in to wait.
‘We got here early,’ said Jessie, ‘to catch the end of Wedding One.’
‘Do you know Saffie and Josh?’ Rosie asked Ella.
‘No.’
‘She’s friends with one of their guests.’ A mischievous smile danced across Jessie’s face.
Her face painted as a lion, Rosie wore a gold jumpsuit, which could have been sprayed on, plus vertiginously high heels. ‘Small world.’
‘We only just met.’
Ella was debating whether to explain when, across the road, the church doors opened and Saffie and Josh stepped out, their bridesmaids, groomsmen and guests spilling onto the quayside behind them. Everything looked wonderful, the pink dresses, bridal bouquet, buttonholes, pocket handkerchiefs and ties all painstakingly matched.
‘Ah,’ gasped Rosie. ‘Here they come. The new Mr and Mrs Smyth. Don’t they look happy?’
Saffie’s empire-line, ivory lace dress was pretty and romantic. She looked serene and beautiful as she posed for photographs, holding tight to Josh’s hand.
‘Such a lovely bride.’ Jessie scrutinised the goings-on like a detective on a stake-out. She’d stashed a set of opera glasses in her handbag, which made Ella and Rosie smile. ‘No sign of this morning’s palaver. It’s all forgotten.’
Ella watched the scene entranced, on the one hand channelling detachment, and on the other wondering if she’d catch a glimpse of Callum.
‘What was all the fuss about, Jessie? Do you know?’ asked Rosie.
Jessie clicked her tongue. ‘Something and nothing, I expect.’
Rosie smiled sympathetically. ‘The poor love. She was in the cave, right?’
Jessie nodded. ‘Luckily they found her in time.’
‘The sea fills it up completely at high tide,’ Rosie told Ella.
Jessie grimaced. ‘I dread to think what would have happened if Callum hadn’t gone looking for her.’
‘Oh look.’ Rosie stood on tiptoes and craned her neck to see over a car that was squeezing into a parking space in front of the shop. ‘That’s him. He’s insanely handsome. He’s got what I call film-star good looks. Anyone would think he belonged in the other wedding.’
‘Indeed, he does.’ Jessie smiled archly at Ella.
A flower girl offered a basket filled with dried rose petals to Callum. He took a handful and threw them up into the air, not over the bride and groom, but over the child who twirled delightedly in the shower of delicate petals.
‘He’s a lovely man,’ said Jessie.
‘This is a difficult time for him.’ Rosie sighed. ‘I hope he finds love again.’
Jessie echoed her sigh. She lowered her opera glasses and turned to Rosie. ‘You took the words right out of my mouth.’
‘Oh dear, this is a happy occasion.’ Rosie wiped away a tear at the corner of her eye. ‘I think it calls for the emergency prosecco.’
‘Is that a thing?’ asked Ella.
‘Oh yes.’ Rosie dived behind the counter. ‘I always keep a bottle in the drinks fridge, in case anything out of the ordinary happens. And that moment is now. Two weddings in one afternoon…’
‘Qualifies as an emergency?’ Jessie stashed the opera glasses back in her handbag.
‘Is a double celebration.’ Rosie took some paper cups from under the counter, popped the cork and poured three generous measures.
Jessie accepted the cup pressed into her hand. ‘Sounds like the perfect excuse to me.’
Rosie raised her paper cup. ‘Cheers m’dears!’
‘Bottoms up,’ said Jessie.
‘All’s well that ends well.’ Ella’s eyes strayed back to Callum. ‘To a happy ending.’
Jessie smiled kindly. ‘The wedding is only the beginning.’
Rosie beamed. ‘In that case we’ll drink to a happy beginning.’
They stood in the window like mannequins in a fancy dress shop, merrily sipping the fizz and watching the photographer and her assistant fuss about, arranging the wedding party in front of the church, while the other guests milled about chatting and half-watching a fishing boat unload a lobster catch.
Rosie turned to Ella. ‘Is it Callum? Your friend?’
‘Um, we met yesterday.’ Ella gulped her drink. ‘I wouldn’t exactly call him my friend.’
‘What would you call him?’ said Rosie. ‘Not your enemy?’
‘No.’
‘She’s his roommate,’ said Jessie. ‘They’re sharing my cottage.’
‘Cosy,’ said Rosie.
‘It’s not like we arranged it in advance.’ Ella wished she didn’t feel so defensive. Nobody was going to write about them in a gossip column. ‘It just happened.’
‘I shouldn’t really say anything, but I heard a rumour,’ Rosie said, still studying Ella for a reaction, ‘that he’s selling his software design business. We had a group of wedding guests in here last night, buying takeout. A couple of them are in IT. They were talking about it.’ Rosie swallowed a mouthful of prosecco. ‘He had an offer he’d be crazy to refuse from a tech giant. Don’t ask me what that means, but going by what I overheard, I’d say his net worth is about to go through the roof.’
‘Is that so?’ said Jessie.
Rosie topped up the prosecco cups. ‘He deserves some good luck after what he’s been through.’
‘I’ll second that.’ Jessie sipped her drink, and hiccupped.
‘I hear he’s moving house as well. It’s understandable, him wanting to start afresh, somewhere new.’ Rosie paused for a second or two, taking in Ella, then added, ‘I hope you don’t mind me saying, but you’re so normal. I don’t know what I expected because I know Nick. He pops in for a fish supper every now and again, and he’s fairly normal too, considering.’
Ella wasn’t sure what to say to that, or to the subject of Callum. She chose not to add to the rumour-mill and said nothing about what Callum had told her about buying a campervan and taking off on a road trip. It didn’t matter because a man with a friendly smile, dressed as what she could only describe as a lion tamer in safari gear, knocked on the glass door and Rosie almost exploded with enthusiasm. Opening up and dragging him into the shop, she introduced Ella.
‘This is Pete. My tamer.’ She made a roaring sound that came off more cub than lioness. She grabbed the bottle and filled another paper cup. ‘He’s a fisherman in real life. He’s been dropping the kids off at his parents’ house.’
‘Pleased to meet you.’ He tipped his safari hat. Rosie slid her hand around his waist and fitted herself into the curve of his arm while he knocked back the fizz like lemonade.
Pacing herself, Ella sipped hers slowly, and Pete showed her some cute photos on his phone of the children building sandcastles.
* * *
If Ella had imagined wafting into Nick’s wedding on a breeze of insouciance, and drifting away again with equal coolness, she could forget it. As the four walked across to the church Rosie wielded a whip, intended to accessorise Pete’s costume, and practised her roar, which to be fair was improving. Ella traipsed behind with Jessie, and admired how skilfully Rosie negotiated the stone cobbles in her heels. She glanced down at her own red canvas trainers, pleased with her choice for clown feet. She’d bought them a couple of sizes too large, and stuffed the toes with cotton wool to achieve a silly, oversized look. In her pocket she also had a bulbous red nose. She might wear it later at the party.
Saffie and Josh’s crowd hadn’t fully dispersed as Layla and Nick’s began to arrive. Rosie and her husband dashed off to say hi to friends, so Ella and Jessie waited outside the church while Saint Elisabeth’s was stripped of all the pink flowers, and a local florist installed bright arrangements in Layla’s colour scheme of blues, oranges, reds and yellows.
At the centre of all this delightful haphazardness stood Callum with a bouquet of flowers in each hand, helping. Ella couldn’t help looking, and snapped her gaze away when she caught him looking back. Having put the flowers in the boot of someone’s car, he stood alone staring at his phone.
Jessie tugged her sleeve. ‘Let’s say hello to Callum.’
She wasn’t keen. ‘He’s busy, let’s not.’
Jessie tutted. ‘Nonsense. Come on.’
He glanced up and his expression brightened as they approached. He held out his screen to Jessie. ‘Hey.’ He smiled broadly. ‘I got some good photos. As promised.’
‘Lovely.’ Jessie took his phone and scrolled through the photographs. ‘How does the camera on this smartphone thing work? Can I take a picture?’
‘You point and press the circle at the bottom of the screen.’ He took his phone from her, set it up and handed it back. ‘What would you like a photograph of?’
‘You and Ella, if I may be so bold.’ From beneath the rim of her hat she winked at Ella. ‘Stand together, with the boats in the harbour in the background.’
Callum moved to stand close to her and she flinched. She didn’t want it to show that inside she felt like Rosie’s prosecco was fizzing in her veins.
‘Smile.’ Jessie held up the phone and peered at it. ‘Ella, look this way and stop squinting at me. You’re supposed to know how to pose for the camera.’
‘It’s the sun.’
Jessie beamed. ‘If it wasn’t for the fact that Ella’s dressed as a clown, you might almost look like you’re together. Mind you, she’s the most sophisticated clown I ever set eyes on. I don’t know about you.’
Callum did not respond to that. To balance Jessie’s unintentional lack of tact, Ella smiled at him, apologetic, then turned to find she had no choice but to freeze for the photo.
Solemn, he held out his hand to Jessie. ‘Are we all done here? Because I need to get going. Can I have my phone back please?’