Thursday – early morning
Two days before the wedding
‘Woof! Woof!’
Thursday morning starts with a hairy muzzle in my face and throbbing eardrums. Though it’s a good job Mitch has woken me because I must have slept through the alarm clock – or maybe I forgot to set it at all. I crawled into bed last night after staying up late.
After Cal left for Greece, I spent the day fending off questions about the details of the wedding and reassuring our Demelza’s regulars that we’ll be open next Tuesday as usual. While we cleaned the kitchens, Cal texted me to say he was about to board his flight to Athens. Even though I’m busy, I keep wondering how he’s getting on and if he’ll find Esme and her family in time – and how they and he will react to each other.
Mitch sleeps in the kitchen now but he got into our room in the night and I was too knackered to take him downstairs. Besides, Cal isn’t here and I wanted the company. As I come round and sit up, he jumps off the bed and runs to the window, claws clattering on the floorboards. He rests his paws on the window ledge of the sash and woofs again. Between the barks, other sounds reach my ears: engines rumbling, voices shouting and reversing warnings beeping.
‘OK. I know you want me to see something.’
Parting the curtains reveals a scene of chaos. In the car park, a lorry loaded with portaloos vies for space with several other vans and a truck. Knowing I should have been up an hour ago, I close the curtains again. My stomach turns over and my skin prickles. I recognise the feeling: the same mix of excitement and sheer terror I had on the opening day of Demelza’s.
‘It’s started, boy,’ I whisper to Mitch as if we’re hosting a wake not a wedding, but I know I’m only anxious for everything to go well. I pull on my jeans, drag a T-shirt over my head and pluck a hoodie from the same place I dropped it last night. There’ll be no time for toast now, even if I felt like eating breakfast. The wedding contractors will need guiding to the glamping field. Some have travelled quite a way and been up since before dawn so I bet everyone’s going to be gagging for a cup of tea. Luckily, Demelza’s has that covered.
I need to give Mitch a run but it’s not safe for him to be out among the vehicles so I leave him in the kitchen and hurry into the car park. Polly is already in the thick of it, clutching a clipboard to her chest and directing the portaloo lorry down the track to the glamping area. At least it’s a dry and calm morning, but the clouds are low and lumpy … and there’s something else, a sharp and not-very-pleasant ‘tang’ on the air that reminds me of when Cal cleans out his horse’s stables.
‘Morning,’ Polly says, before ticking an item off her list.
‘Really sorry I overslept, Polly. I meant to be up to help you.’
‘Everything’s under control,’ she says. ‘The posh loos are here and the power generator people are already setting up in the field. Your dad phoned and said he’d be over as soon as the tepee people arrive.’
‘The loos don’t smell very fresh. They’re meant to be the most luxurious ones Rachel could find. I hope they won’t stay like that.’
‘That’s a farm smell. It was here before the loos arrived.’ Polly sniffs the air extravagantly. ‘Hmm. I’d say it was getting stronger.’
I inhale deeply and immediately want to gag. ‘Oh, shit.’
‘Exactly,’ says Polly. ‘It’s coming from Gwennap’s farm over the hill.’
‘Eww. I know the farmers have to fertilise the fields but I thought Mr Gwennap had done his earlier this spring and he knew the wedding was coming up.’
‘He certainly did. Cal went up there a couple of weeks ago and he didn’t mention any plans to muck spread.’
I allow myself to breathe in again and wish I hadn’t. Once you’re tuned into that pong, you can’t un-smell it. I may be a country girl but it’s beyond acceptable and our wedding guests certainly won’t be impressed.
‘I hope it goes away. Lily will be here tomorrow afternoon, and – arghh – with Addison and Jade too.’
Polly sighs. ‘I’ll try to find out what’s happened but there’s nothing we can do about it now, my bird. I’ll check the weather forecast. We’ll just have to carry on as normal and hope the wind changes.’
She gives my arm a squeeze. Hoping the wind changes sounds like something out of Mary Poppins and I’ve never felt less like bloody Mary Poppins in my life, although I wish I could wiggle my nose and everything at Kilhallon would be instantly perfect for the wedding.
‘I’ll take Mitch out for a quick run then I have to get down to the cafe. We’re laying on early refreshments for the wedding contractors. Hopefully it will keep them sweet, which is more than I can say for the famous Kilhallon fresh air.’
By lunchtime, a massive wedding machine has rolled into Kilhallon, taking over every inch of space on the main car park and down at Demelza’s too. Cal has designated one of the smaller fields for parking. The tepee people, posh loos, power-generator hire, light and sound people have all arrived along with my dad and his mates with their electrician’s vans. Tomorrow, the florist and event stylists will rock up, followed by even more people who will be arriving on the morning of the wedding itself.
Our mobile catering stand from the Harbour Lights has been set up near the glamping field/wedding glade with one of the new staff serving refreshments to all the people setting up. The official event caterers arrive later today. Rachel and I recommended a local company from St Trenyan whose premises were damaged by the floods and we’re delighted that Lily agreed to use them.
By late afternoon, the canvas structure of the tepee is up. It’s bigger and even more stunning than the one we hired for the wedding fair, with a service section at the rear where the caterers will have their field kitchen. My dad has helped the loo-hire and generator people connect up the facilities to the campsite electricity supply. Early this evening, a funky cocktail bar for the tepee arrives. In the meantime, the finishing touches are being made to the flooring in the tent and matting walkways have been laid from the car parks to the marquee.
Even as the sun starts to set, a few workers stay on to slot the final boards of a stage in place. My dad’s up a stepladder fixing a problem with the fairy lights round one of the tent poles. Kit passes some tools up to him. Rachel left after lunch to collect Freya from her nan’s, but she’ll be back tomorrow. She looked tired and I wonder if she feels she’s bitten off more than she can chew, but she said she was fine. Having seen all the work involved, I now know that we couldn’t have done this wedding without her. Even with the support of my dad and her parents, she’s worked a miracle to fit in the organisation around caring for Freya.
Polly joins me in the centre of the tent and for a few seconds, we’re frozen to the spot, both unable to believe this is Kilhallon. Now that most people have left for the night, our voices sound loud in the cavernous space: literally, it’s a big blank canvas, which is ready to be decorated tomorrow morning.
Her eyes widen. ‘It’s like one of them music festivals. We only need the mud and people smoking funny stuff now.’
‘I hope we don’t get either,’ I say, hating to sound more Polly-ish than even Polly.
‘They’ll doubtless be bringing some arty types with them. You know what they’re like in London,’ Polly says darkly. I’m thinking we have plenty of alternative ‘arty’ types on our own doorstep and that I know quite a few. I wonder what the guests will make of Kilhallon. Ben and Lily’s close friends and family are from the South West but there are people from all over the country descending and even a few from America.
‘If you need any help, Kit’s ready to lend a hand.’
‘Hmm,’ says Polly. ‘I wasn’t very happy with him turning up and dropping the bombshell about being Cal’s brother. I can see it upset Cal and you but he’s made himself useful during the floods and again now so I suppose I might forgive him.’
‘I genuinely think he wants to help. Even Cal seems to tolerate him now and he did help him find Esme.’ I feel sorry for Kit, having to endure Polly’s withering looks. She’s really made him suffer for not being open with any of us when he first turned up. Thank God she doesn’t know the full extent of his previous behaviour: trying to hurt us and getting involved with Mawgan Cade. But that’s another story.
‘That’s another thing that’ll end in tears. Fancy swanning off to Greece when he had a job to do here. Sometimes he needs his head examining.’
‘It’s not ideal but I didn’t have the heart to stop him. In fact, I didn’t want to stop him. He needs to find out that Esme’s all right and speak to her and her family in person.’
Polly tuts. ‘Hmm. I fear for the little girl and I suppose you’re right. Cal will never rest until he sees her again. Have you heard from him yet?’
‘A text came through in the middle of the night but I’m not sure when he actually sent it. He was on his way to the camp where Esme and her family were reported to be. He’s hoping they haven’t been moved on yet.’
She shakes her head. ‘I’m as worried about him as you are. What will he be like if he can’t find her?’
‘He’s promised this is the last time. He’ll put it all behind him after this,’ I say, trying to believe it myself.
‘Tosh. Cal never forgets anything. Anyway, we’ve other things to worry about. That Addison and Jade and Lily will be here tomorrow.’ She glances at the pennants on the marquee, which are still limp and sad as if they’re as depressed about the whole thing as us. ‘We need that blow Greg Stennack promised us.’
By eight o’clock, the contractors and suppliers have left for the evening. I’ve returned from the cafe.
Kit arrives, with Mitch on a lead.
‘Thanks for offering to take him out. Has he behaved?’
‘He’s been fine. I let him off the lead on the moor and he even came back when I called him.’ Kit ruffles Mitch’s ears. ‘You were a good boy, weren’t you?’
Mitch’s grumble of pleasure raises a smile. He’s learning to trust Kit now too. ‘Great. One less thing to worry about,’ I reply.
‘Have you heard from Cal yet?’
‘A quick word in a text. He’s on his way to the camp now. He’s hoping Esme’s family haven’t had to move on before he gets there.’
‘I hope so too. He’d be devastated if he got so close and then missed them.’
‘Yes …’
‘So you’re still worried about him?’ Kit asks.
‘It’s the fear of the unknown. If he misses them it would be awful. But if he does see them, who knows what their reaction will be. It could finish him if it all goes wrong.’
‘He’s a big boy, he knows the risk he’s taking.’
I nod, grateful for Kit’s efforts but not in the least bit reassured – so God knows how Cal must be feeling.