The Wedding Fair
Primroses still dot the sunny banks and the birds are singing their hearts out as Tamsin and I ‘plant’ a trail of shepherd’s hooks hung with jars either side of the matting that leads into the event tepee on the morning of the wedding fair. Now April is well underway, the bluebells are just coming out, adding their pretty buds to the white of the wild garlic in the copse.
Mitch scampers around, sniffing at the myriad strange scents and generally distracting people from their work. I’m in second-hand Hunters and Tamsin’s in Joules wellies because the newly mown grass still glistens with dew. The wind blew a front across the peninsular last night and the morning’s as fresh and bright as Polly’s whites fluttering in the breeze behind the farmhouse. There’s a fresh scent in the air: wet grass, sea breeze sharpened by the early chill. It’s full-on spring and Kilhallon has never looked more beautiful.
I check out the sky: a washed-out blue the same colour as Cal’s best shirt. ‘Polly’s right about the weather,’ I say to Tamsin.
‘I know … wow, would you check that out?’ Tamsin points at Kit who’s helping Cal fix the willow wedding arch in the glade in the middle of the glamping field, under the watchful eye of Hazel Tremain, the florist who’s also taken a stall at the fair.
‘Now, how hot do those boys look?’ she adds.
Cal and Kit are both stripped to T-shirts. Cal is the darker of the two and his muscular biceps and forearms are tanned year-round from his outdoor lifestyle. Kit is fairer but slightly taller. His arms are paler and he may not be as buff, but he’s lean and strong from his running and gym habit.
‘How did I not notice they were brothers?’ Tamsin asks, pushing her shepherd’s hook firmly into the damp turf. Not that the ‘boys’ would notice us ogling them, they’re too busy fixing the arch in place.
‘I didn’t notice but now I know, the likeness is obvious, from their features to the way they stand. And they’re both sarcastic and spiky when they want to be, which is most of the time.’
‘And secretive?’
‘Cal’s improving. I don’t know Kit well enough yet but I’m willing to give him the benefit of the doubt. He has a lot to prove, especially with Cal.’ Tamsin knows that there’s been trouble between Cal and Kit but not the finer details. She thinks their rift only relates to the affair between Cal’s father and Kit’s mum. She knows nothing about Cal’s experiences in Syria and I won’t be sharing, however much we get on. That story is between Cal, Kit and me.
‘Kit must want to try and make up for what he did or he wouldn’t be here. The two of them look as if they’re getting on fine this morning. Maybe they’ve already kissed and made up.’
Tamsin makes me laugh out loud. ‘Who knows? By the end of the century, maybe.’
Kit’s on his knees, hammering in a stake to secure the arch to the turf, with Cal standing over him, hands on hips. Then he stands up and Hazel comes over to them and nods approvingly. Cal and Kit exchange glances and they both laugh.
‘They seem to be getting on,’ Tamsin says again.
‘OK. Maybe it will only take fifty years for Cal to trust him completely.’
‘Does Kit have a partner?’ Tamsin asks as I hang a jar from my crook. We need to fill the jars with fresh flowers once the crooks are all safely in place.
‘He’s never mentioned one.’
Her face falls. ‘Is he gay?’
‘Not as far as I know.’ I don’t tell her I thought he might be interested in me last year, although I’m beginning to think his interest was only to get at Cal.
‘And he definitely wasn’t interested in Mawgan? Because if he was, I’d consider him to have crap taste and judgement and I won’t even bother with him.’
‘No. That was a business arrangement on his part and hers.’
‘What a shame she’s coming to the wedding.’
‘Tell me about it.’ I stand back from the crook aisle and take in the tepee.
‘What do you think about the tepee?’ I ask Tamsin. Even on hire for the day, it was a big investment so I hope it pays off. It’s actually two giant tepees joined together with twin turrets to make it look like a canvas castle complete with pennants flying. One side has been left open as it’s a fine day.
‘It’s fabulous. Much nicer than setting up in a windowless function room.’
‘Even if we don’t get many prospective customers, the photos will look great and the suppliers won’t have to be rained on or blown away. The last thing we want is another disaster today. Some of the local and regional papers are coming along, not to mention the wedding bloggers. If they’re hoping for Lily and Ben, they’ll be disappointed – Lily’s too busy so she’s coming next week when things have quietened down.’
‘Do you think there’s any chance Lily would let me do her make-up?’
‘Sorry, hon, but I already know she wants to bring her own hair and make-up stylist. I know this isn’t as exciting but would you come and do my make-up on the morning of the wedding? I’d like to look my best.’
‘Of course I will. I’d love to be around anyway and see what’s going on.’
Tamsin adjusts the jar on the final crook at the entrance to the tepee. ‘We can put the flowers in the jars now and then I ought to start getting my stall ready.’
‘Do you need a hand setting it up?’
‘Thanks, but I’ve got it down to a fine art now and my sister’s coming along later to give me a hand when the visitors arrive. I wonder if Kit fancies trying out one of my groom’s pre-wedding facial and massages?’
Kit stretches his back after moving the wedding arch over to the log ‘altar’ in the glade. The arch is stunning, the twigs are intertwined with roses and peonies in a palette of soft white, pastels and blushes.
‘You could ask him. He’s really not as scary as I thought.’
‘I’d like to find out for myself. Hmm. A good shave, some sexy stubble and an eyebrow trim would do wonders for him, not to mention a scrub and regular moisturise. And if I could get him on my treatment table for a massage …’
‘I thought you were supposed to be strictly professional with your clients.’
‘I am. Always.’ She draws a halo over her head.
‘Look. He and Cal and have finished the arch. What about if I introduce you and we grab a quick drink together before you set up your stall.’
With a gleam in her eye, Tamsin beams. ‘That would be awesome. I’ll offer him a freebie.’
Our drink and chat with Cal and Kit didn’t last more than ten minutes, although judging by the way Kit was laughing at Tamsin’s cheeky banter, he might come round to the idea of a facial and massage after all. Although I don’t imagine lying down and relaxing with a scented candle is on his or any of our minds today because there’s so much to do.
Robyn and Andi were up until midnight last night setting out the cafe as it might appear for a wedding tea. The tables have already been laid with vintage china we salvaged from the farmhouse last year, complete with some new paper tablecloths. We’re offering a limited but cute afternoon-tea style menu for the refreshments but have a table showcasing some of the menu ideas we can offer.
Kit and Cal are now busy unfolding stripy deckchairs hired in from a local supplier. Added to the log ‘pews’ with their pretty retro cushions, the site is starting to look more like a wedding glade and less like Glastonbury after the loos have been towed away.
And one by one, the suppliers have started to roll in to Kilhallon, marshalled by Rachel, who’s left Freya with her mum. Dad’s busy double-checking the power and lighting to the tepee. As well as Hazel the florist, we have two very different bridal-wear suppliers, a grooms-wear hire company, photographers, a videographer, a stationery designer and a vintage wedding bus which is parked next to the cafe. Robyn and Andi arrive late morning to set up Robyn’s jewellery design stall. Tamsin’s pop-up spa is ready and her sister has joined her to offer mini-makeovers to prospective brides and their guests.
There’s even a company that offers neon signs in the initials of the bride and groom, as well as providing event lighting. Rachel and I take a look at them when we rendezvous in the tepee for a five-minute powwow.
‘Lily and Ben would love those signs,’ I say.
‘I thought we could get their names made to match the Hollywood sign and so when they come into the tepee for the evening party, they get a huge surprise,’ says Rachel. ‘It was your dad’s idea. He came across them when he was wiring a design company’s HQ in Plymouth. They had the signs in their reception but this company do temporary ones for events and weddings.’
‘Are they expensive?’
‘Does it matter?’ Rachel asks.
‘No, because their PA is dealing with it, but I think we ought to get her approval. Lily says we can do what we want but Addison and Jade keep emailing me. I suppose I’m not surprised.’
Rachel wrinkles her nose. ‘I’ve spoken to them a few times. Jade is seriously scary but we have to deal with them. Has she said any more about when we can officially announce that the wedding’s being held here?’
‘Not today. I don’t know. Originally, Lily and Ben said we could publicise it in advance but I think Jade has persuaded them to change their minds. It doesn’t make feel very confident that they won’t let us say anything, although I can see why for security reasons.’
We turn away from the neon signs and wander past the stalls towards the florists’ display. ‘I think it’s the worst-kept secret in Cornwall. It’s one reason I had so many acceptances from the suppliers, even though I couldn’t confirm or deny the rumours. People love being associated with a celebrity wedding.’
‘Even after the newspaper pictures?’ I ask.
‘Even after that. Look’—she flashes me a reassuring smile —‘nothing’s going to go wrong today. I’m sure we’ll have lots of visitors, even if they’re only curious to see if Kilhallon really is that terrible.’
‘Shit.’
She gives me a quick hug. ‘But it’s not going to be terrible. It’s going to be brilliant and you’ll have loads of bookings after this. What you need to do is think how many weddings you can cope with and at what time of year.’
‘We’ve discussed that. We’re keeping July and August purely for holidays and we’re only going to accept a few a year. The income is welcome and important but we’re a holiday resort first and foremost and I don’t think I could cope with this stress every weekend. Hey – Mitch! Get your nose out of there!’
Mitch turns his head, debating whether he dare carry on sniffing the florist’s stall.
I whistle at him and, reluctantly, he trots back to me. He’s submitted to a smart neckerchief that looks like a bow-tie on a tux. He’ll put in a brief appearance but for most of the day will be running free with some canine companions and Nina at the animal shelter she helps to run with her mum. She’s offered to look after him because with all the strange people, smells and tempting treats around, he’s sure to get over-excited.
‘Not long to go now,’ Rachel says, checking her watch. ‘Some people are bound to be early so we’d better have someone on the gates of Kilhallon in advance.’
On a decked area in the corner of the tepee, the student folk band is setting up its instruments. They’re going to play quirky cover versions of traditional folk songs and wedding staples.
‘I hired two of Robyn’s mates to man the gates,’ she continues, ‘when they’ve finished helping the band set up.’
‘I had no idea there was so much to do. This is even more stressful than the launch,’ I say, already feeling as if I’ve run a marathon.
‘It’s a good rehearsal for the real thing though my feet are killing me already,’ Rachel says. ‘Which is one reason I suggested it for both of us! How’s the cafe set up?’
‘OK. We’re nearly ready. Thank goodness we got most of it in place last night. I haven’t had a second this morning but I have to whizz down there as soon as people start arriving.’
‘What time do you start serving the teas?’
‘We open at two-thirty to give people time to look around the tepee before they start thinking about a cuppa, but I need to go now. Are you sure you’ll be OK to run things up here?’
‘Of course. It’s a good job my mum could have Freya because I couldn’t possibly have managed this without her help. It seems strange to leave her but I won’t always be able to take her to meetings and events if I’m going to start my business, even part time. Even though I know she’s safe and happy with her nan, I can’t help the anxiety that niggles in my mind.’
‘It must be so hard to leave her. She’s gorgeous.’
‘Most of the time.’ With a smile that turns into a grimace, Rachel slips off her shoes and wriggles her toes. ‘These look smart but I’ve learned my lesson. Comfy old shoes next time I do anything like this.’
We wait at the entrance to the tent and on the stroke of two, our first customers begin to arrive, ushered from the car park to the glade by a line of bunting and box trees with ribbon created by our event florists and decor specialists. Considering the event was organised at short notice, we have a healthy amount of visitors, some of whom are actually interested in getting married rather than a free cup of tea.
Hastily, Rachel puts her shoes back on and goes into professional mode. ‘I managed to get a quick mention feature on Radio St Trenyan though I did find myself dodging a question from Greg Stennack about Lily and Ben,’ she says in between greeting visitors with a smile.
‘You know, I think we should just pretend that we might have a celebrity wedding every year. They don’t seem to care whether the rumours are true or not. They only want some juicy gossip to share.’
‘As long as people come and nothing disastrous happens and they go home with the right impression, we’ll be OK,’ she says with a smile.
With a nod, I head for the cafe. After recent events, the chances of all of those things coming together seems a bit slim, but all I can do is cross my fingers and get on with my part of the job.
But within ten minutes of the fair opening, I realise that’s a forlorn hope.