‘It’s lovely, but not wedding-worthy.’ She smiled. ‘Not a “finally convince my brother to convince you to at the very least have one night of romance” outfit, anyway.’
‘I don’t think I want an outfit like that.’
‘Yeah.’ Lily scrunched up her nose. ‘Sorry, but I’ve seen the way you two look at each other, so I don’t think that’s true. I mean, he’d be happy to give it a try if you were wearing Mammaw’s old dressing gown and wellies, but he needs to know you want him to try, given that, for reasons nobody can fathom, you both pretended you didn’t.’
I tried to come up with an argument against this, but I really didn’t have much brain power left for making arguments that in my heart of hearts I didn’t quite believe in.
Given that this was the new, own-what-you-really-want Emmie, I might as well admit to myself that what I really wanted was a dance, a kiss, or some sort of romantic moment with Pip before I left. Wouldn’t it be easier to start my new life, knowing that one of my impossible dreams had already come true?
Lily narrowed her eyes at me.
‘Celine probably has something you can borrow.’
‘No, I couldn’t,’ I said, far too quickly. ‘I mean, we’re completely different sizes.’
‘Hmm. I don’t think Iris or Violet will have anything that fits you, either. I have one pretty dress, but I’ve worn it to so many things, everyone will know you’ve borrowed it. Ooh!’ She grabbed my arm so hard, I nearly spilled the rest of my tea. ‘I think I have the answer.’
She trotted inside before I had time to ask what, but had to trust that whatever she came up with would be better than crumpled shorts.
The kids had been granted the afternoon off school, but Flora and Jack had to go in for the morning, despite their protests. As soon as Malcolm had set off, Lily and I cycled to the farmhouse to add the boxes of freshly delivered flowers to the other decorations before I headed to the kitchen and Lily took the rest of the flowers over to the church.
The barn bustled like an August Saturday in the airport. Borrowed tables and chairs of various shapes and sizes had been set out earlier, and Rosemary and Violet were now adding brightly patterned tablecloths. Richard and Hugh’s parents were following behind with wine glasses, forks and napkins. Others were hanging up the bridal-shower bunting and strings of lights, offloading drinks and more glasses onto a makeshift bar or doing a final sweep of the floor.
I spotted Celine in one corner, arranging photos of Iris and Hugh on a table, along with a postbox for cards and a guest book. Swallowing back the nausea constricting my throat, I wondered whether there was a lock on the kitchen door, and if it would be rude if I used it.
‘Could anyone have come up with a better choice of meal for a home-made wedding?’
I turned to find Gabe standing next to me, hands stuffed in the pockets of his jeans, a soft smile crinkling the corners of his eyes. ‘When Rosemary and I wed, we thought sandwiches and sausage rolls would keep things simple, but it still left us with a hundred-and-twenty dirty plates. Hot, filling food you can eat with your fingers, no washing-up necessary? Pasties are perfect.’
‘I hope they turn out okay. It’s always a bit of a risk, using slightly different ingredients and a strange oven.’
‘Pah. You’ll be fighting off future orders by the end of the night.’
‘Well, once people know I’m heading back tomorrow, that should deter any bookings. It’d cost a lot more if I had to include flights and accommodation.’
Gabe nodded. ‘Well, we can only see what happens. Although, I’m glad you’ve not discounted the idea altogether. It’d be grand to have you visit again, some time.’
‘I’m not discounting much at this point,’ I said. ‘I’ve decided to close the kiosk.’
Gabe raised his eyebrows, his gaze searching my face.
‘It’s this place,’ he said, with a knowing nod as if he’d found what he was looking for. ‘Has a way of helping people see things they didn’t before. Changes your perspective. Some say it’s how the light refracts off the cliff-tops that opens your eyes. Or the sea air, clearing out all the gubbins in your head. Others put it down to pure island magic.’
‘Maybe it’s all of those things,’ I said, kneeling down to unpack a box of irises. ‘I think, for me, it’s the lack of distractions. Limited Wi-Fi. Less background busyness bombarding me all day. Plus, time to think, and space to be.’ I picked up a pair of Lily’s scissors and began snipping the ends off the stems. ‘I love it here, as I’m sure most people do. Although, I can understand why it wouldn’t suit everyone.’
Gabe opened another box, this one with lilies, and joined me. ‘Your mother, you mean?’
I nodded, a sudden lump in my throat making it difficult to reply.
‘You read the letters?’
‘Yes.’
‘You probably have questions, then.’
I looked at him, surprised. Gabe had been married to Rosemary for a long time. I hadn’t expected him to want to restart the conversation about his first wife.
‘I’ve heard about every remotely interesting happening relating to the past two generations of Hawkinses, plus plenty of stories that aren’t.’ Gabe’s face softened. ‘I can’t imagine not knowing my family’s history, where I came from.’