Early Saturday morning – Kilhallon
I always love this time of day at Demelza’s, when the cafe is open, waiting for its first customers. When everything is clean and bright and perfect, and we’re all still full of morning enthusiasm and energy.
The tables, inside and out, are all laid out for teas and champagne cocktails. Glasses sparkle in the sunlight streaming through the windows. Fresh Cornish flowers, arranged in vintage glasses, act as centrepieces to each table and fill the air with scent. Greg Stennack’s Saturday Breakfast Show is playing as we do our final prep for the day, telling us excitedly that ‘Cornwall’s wedding of the year’ is taking place at Kilhallon Park and that his invitation must have been lost in the post.
I got up super early to walk Mitch before dropping him off at the animal shelter, where Nina’s mum will take care of him for the day. He didn’t seem to mind and I’ll be much happier knowing he’s playing with his canine friends than getting into trouble here. On my way down to the cafe, I made a detour around the wedding site. The caterers were already onsite and the florists and decor stylists were making final checks on the tepee and wedding glade.
Everything would be perfect if I’d only heard from Cal but there’s been nothing since his call dropped out. I lay awake waiting for a call, I checked WhatsApp and my emails in the night but there was nothing and I’ve no idea if he caught his flight or not. I’m sure he was focused on getting on board, rather than calling me. His meeting with Esme sounded hopeful and positive but not something he would – or could – talk about on the phone in a taxi.
I try to focus on the day ahead. The ceremony is scheduled for three p.m., which seems ages away but also frighteningly close. Tamsin will be here later this morning to do my nails and make-up, though God knows when I’ll find the time. I thought I ought to make myself look decent. I’ve even splashed out on a slinky new blue dress from a boutique in Truro. Everything has come together against all the odds. Kilhallon looks amazing and we’re good to go.
The cafe phone rings and Shamia pops her head around the staff door. ‘It’s for you, Demi.’
‘Who is it? Cal?’
‘No. It’s that Jade woman. She sounds hysterical.’
‘Jade? She’s probably broken a fingernail or something. I’m coming.’
Ready to hear a rant from Jade about the flowers not being the right shade of blush or being told that the fridge needs restocking with Krug, I pick up the receiver then immediately hold it away from me. A long high-pitched wail assaults my eardrums.
‘What’s the matter? Is everything OK?’
‘No, it is not OK,’ Jade shrieks. ‘I knew I should never have left the silly little cow! I begged her to have this wedding in London or at least somewhere half-civilised. I knew something would go wrong at the arse end of nowhere!’
Resisting the urge to say some very rude words to Jade, I speak slowly as if Jade is a toddler. ‘Lily seemed fine when we left her last night. Is she all right?’
‘All right? Don’t be stupid! She’s probably fallen off a cliff or jumped into the sea.’
I grip the phone, feeling sick and also pissed off at being called ‘stupid’ by a woman for whom the word ‘stupid’ was clearly invented. ‘Oh God, what’s happened?’
‘What’s happened? She’s gone missing, that’s what’s happened, and it’s all your bloody fault.’