‘The lease on the kiosk runs out on Sunday. I’m not signing a new one.’
‘Why?’
I dared a peek at him through my hair. His face shone with hopeful anticipation.
‘Pip!’ Rosemary was outside the barn, tapping her wrist wildly. ‘When you’ve finished standing around chatting, Hugh says can you meet him at the church ASAP, please. You probably ought to take your suit with you.’
He pushed himself off the fence. ‘I’ll talk to you later?’
All I could do was nod. Hopefully by ‘later’, I might have figured out what I wanted to say.
After a few more minutes completing the reception centrepieces, I helped Lily load up the remaining flowers for the church, and then followed Rosemary to the kitchen. She was showing me how the oven worked when Aster appeared.
‘Lily asked if I could give you this.’ She held out a dress. ‘It’s a lend, not a gift, mind. I may not have worn it in decades, but it still fits me.’
In all the activity, I’d almost forgotten about an outfit, and felt touched that Lily hadn’t. I accepted Aster’s offering with some trepidation – she was in her nineties, although I had to admit, we were similar builds – and held it up to have a proper look.
‘Oh!’
‘Don’t sound so surprised.’ Aster frowned. ‘I might be an old farmer’s wife, but I can scrub up on occasion.’
The dress was lovely. Pale-green satin, with sheer, capped sleeves, a fitted bodice and full skirt that would reach just below my knees.
‘I bought it for my husband’s funeral. He hated me in black, and this was the same colour as his eyes.’
‘It’s beautiful. But are you sure?’
Aster’s glare was fierce enough to scorch the pasties. ‘I wouldn’t have said yes if I wasn’t sure. It’s only a dress. Now, Rosemary, is the cake safe and secure on the middle shelf?’
‘Yes.’ Rosemary opened the fridge door to show her.
Aster gave a brisk nod. ‘You know that’s the only place where things stay reliably cool in that ancient thing. I don’t know why you haven’t replaced it yet.’
‘You know we can’t afford to replace the fridge until after the Sunflower Festival. As long as we keep things in the middle, it’s not a problem.’
‘Are you going to try it on?’
It took a second or two to realise she’d switched back to me.
‘Ma, do you really think there’s time for that? Emmie has a lot to do.’
‘You’re the chef,’ Aster barked. ‘Is there time?’
‘I think so. I mean, yes. If I’m quick.’
Rosemary showed me to a downstairs shower room, tutting about how the service would be starting in a couple of hours. I could understand her being stressed – having four days’ notice to plan for her daughter’s wedding couldn’t have been ideal.
I slipped the dress on, managed to zip it up and jumped up and down a few times, trying to catch sight of it in the small mirror above the sink. It seemed to fit okay, and from what I could see, it definitely looked better than my shorts, and even worked with my white flip-flops, so I gratefully changed back and Rosemary hung it in the coat closet under the stairs.
If I’d had any lingering suspicion that Aster had been the person trying to ruin my time here, this erased it. If she hated me, then there’d be no way she’d lend me this dress.
‘Right, we’ll leave you to it,’ Rosemary said, shooing me back to the kitchen. ‘Everyone’s been instructed to keep their phones on today, so any problems, call me or Violet. The numbers are on the countertop, here. But try to avoid between one-forty-five and three because we’ll be at the ceremony.’ She took a deep breath. ‘Come on, then, Ma. Time to get changed.’
‘I know full well what time it is. Do you want to check I’ve brushed my teeth and put clean knickers on, too?’
‘Are you sure you can manage this?’ Rosemary hovered in the doorway, hands wringing. ‘There’s still time to throw some sandwiches together. The farmer’s market has some lovely pork pies.’
‘Please don’t worry. I’ve been doing this since I was thirteen. Go and enjoy your daughter’s wedding. The first pasties will be ready at four-thirty.’
