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‘No, we need them served at three-thirty.’

‘Really?’ Lily had been very clear when she’d shown me the schedule.

‘Yes. Iris wants them then. I can ask Lily to call you if you don’t trust me.’

‘No. Of course. Three-thirty. No problem.’

Rosemary frowned, clearly thinking there might be a problem if I couldn’t even get the timings right.

‘I just really want it to be an unforgettable day.’

‘It will be. And the pasties will be ready on time.’

Iris and Hugh’s wedding was certainly a day both I, and the rest of the Isle of Siskin would never forget.

27

I spent the next few hours baking pasties in batches, keeping them warm in the Aga and a mobile food trolley borrowed from one of the hotels. Lily checked in when she’d arrived at the church. I assured her that the dogs were keeping a watchful eye on every crumb. Rosemary messaged seven times. When I failed to answer the seventh message within ten seconds, because I was busy moving pasties from the oven to the Aga, she phoned.

After a brief explanation, met with thinly veiled suspicion, I ended the call thinking that a private-catering business might not be the best career move after all.

So, I wasn’t surprised when she barrelled into the kitchen as soon as the first cars started pulling up just after three.

‘How’s it going?’

She opened the oven door, followed by the Aga and the warming trolley. I reminded myself how I’d feel having a stranger take over my kitchen, and tried not to let my irritation show.

‘Any issues?’

‘Not since you last phoned fifteen minutes ago, no.’

‘Right. I’m sorry. I just want it all to go well.’

‘How was the ceremony?’

Rosemary pressed a hand to her chest. ‘Perfect. What more could a mother want than for her daughter to marry a fine, island man? No skeletons or last-minute surprises. Two people who understand each other. Understand this way of life and know it’s what they want. When Lily married Malcolm, I was that worried about a stranger in the family, I didn’t sleep for months.’

‘That’s wonderful.’ I almost sounded as if I meant it. Rosemary must know about Gabe’s first wife, and I wondered how much that tainted her view of a suitable partner for her children.

‘Two down, two to go!’ she cried, giving the Labradors a pet before whirling out of the door.

At three-forty-five, I left the sanctuary of the kitchen and went to find Lily. I’d timed everything to perfection, but had forgotten that islanders tended to allow a lot more flexibility in their schedules.

It was a balmy afternoon, and most of the guests were gathered on the outside space by the open Old Barn doors. Richard and his band were playing a gentle folk song, the children were occupied with a game of boules on the grass, and everyone else was chatting in small clusters, drinks in hand and smiles on faces.

Scanning around, I spotted Iris and Hugh posing for a photograph under a large oak tree, Celine beside them, but Lily was inside the barn, supervising the makeshift barman. Her lemon maternity bridesmaid dress contrasted beautifully with her dark hair, pinned up with a silk lily, and sun-kissed skin.

‘The pasties are ready. I’m worried they’ll start cooling down.’

‘Oh?’ She checked her watch. ‘We’ve still got the rest of the photos to do yet. That’s why we said food at four-thirty.’

‘Right. But your mum said Iris moved it to an hour earlier.’

‘What?’ Lily looked confused. ‘No. I showed you the schedule. It’s not changed.’

‘Okay. No problem.’ I started to back away.

‘Are you sure? Are they going to be ruined? Hang on, let me find Ma.’