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And for pudding, îles flottantes, pillowy mounds of meringue floating in a passionfruit crème Anglaise, decorated with pistachios and gold leaf.
‘That’s a very pretty menu.’ Nikki nodded in approval, producing a bottle of sparkling rosé. ‘Now, this is my recommendation for the toast. Hints of strawberry with a creamy finish, if you’d like to taste it. It’ll go perfectly with the cake you’ve chosen.’
They’d gone with the moon-topped fondant fancies, with a strawberry buttercream filling.
‘Oh yes.’ Alec leaned forwards and took the bottle. He removed the foil deftly and began to untwist the wire. He popped the cork and the bottle gave a gentle sigh. ‘Would it be cheeky to propose a toast? To you? Our miracle wedding planner?’
Nikki didn’t usually drink on the job, but today she thought she deserved a celebration. This had the potential to be the most triumphant wedding she’d ever organised. If that didn’t deserve a glass of fizz, then what did?
27
She was still on a bit of a high when she sailed into Salacia with Adam on Friday evening. She felt on top of the world. A match for Tamara and her glitzy friends. She’d dug out an emerald-green lace shirt dress to show off the fact that her legs were brown and toned from climbing up and down the steps to the secret beach for a swim as often as she could. She and Adam had walked into town together along the cliff path, basking in the evening sun. She could tell from the glances they were getting that they looked the part as she walked in on his arm. He had on a pale blue lawn shirt, and yet again she was conscious of the warmth of him underneath the soft fabric.
‘Blimey,’ he said, ‘I wasn’t expecting this kind of joint around here. This is something else.’
‘Speedwell’s changing. There’s a lot of new money here in summer.’ Nikki looked around, impressed. Tamara and Duke had made quite a statement. The bar was decorated in eau de nil and gold, with a huge mural of Salacia emerging from the waves and a chandelier made from a tangle of green glass, like Medusa’s hair. The floor tiles glistened like fish scales, and private booths with velvet banquettes lined the walls. Outside, the water in the harbour shone like newly polished silver. It felt glamorous, more Côte d’Azur than Cornwall. The usual Speedwell uniform was jeans or shorts and sweatshirts, but tonight everyone had dressed up and the air crackled with excitement.
‘I keep expecting Liz Taylor and Richard Burton to walk in.’ Adam took two glasses of champagne from a passing waiter and handed her one. Then he held his glass up to her. ‘Cheers. And thank you for asking me to be your plus one. I haven’t been out on the town for ages. I miss it. Though I am slightly dreading it.’
‘It must be difficult. I’m so sorry.’ Nikki felt mortified that she’d babbled on about work on the walk in when he had probably been battling his nerves.
‘The funny thing is, I’m fine about it. It’s other people who find it hard. I always hate the look of panic on their face when I explain I’m widowed. Some people hide it better than others but I can see them wondering what they should say. And I don’t want them to say anything much. I want to have a normal conversation, about whatever. Global warming or Miley Cyrus or whatever … Anyway—’ he took a glug of champagne – ‘a bit of Dutch courage and I’ll be fine.’
‘Come and meet my brother,’ suggested Nikki. ‘He’s pretty easy to talk to. He’ll break you in gently.’
Even Graham had dressed up. He was usually in sportswear and trainers, for when he wasn’t working, he was playing football or going for a run, but tonight he was in dark blue jeans and a pristine white shirt and proper shoes.
‘Don’t say anything,’ he said as she approached. ‘It was Suzanne. I wasn’t given any choice.’
‘You look great. Unrecognisable, but great. Graham, this is Adam. My neighbour. The one who’s looking for office space.’
‘Good to meet you.’ The two men shook hands. Moments later they were deep in conversation about Arsenal – they were both supporters – and Nikki felt she could leave Adam’s side. Across the room, she saw Suzanne arrive, in a Grecian-style white dress with a gold belt around her waist. Nikki could sense her mixture of anxiety and anticipation, obviously hoping to make an impression on Tamara as she pushed her way through the crowds towards her.
‘God, this is amazing. They must have spent a ton. That chandelier must have cost gazillions.’ Suzanne was gabbling. ‘Do you think Speedwell is ready for this kind of thing? I mean, I love it but it’s way too scary for the locals.’
‘I guess once people know about it, it’ll become a destination. We’ll find out this summer.’
‘Oh God.’ Suzanne tensed. ‘Tamara’s coming over.’
‘It’s fine. She needs you more than you need her, remember.’
‘She does?’ Suzanne looked baffled.
‘She needs us locals on side. She knows we could make or break her. If we don’t get on board with this place, no one else will. It’s going to be us who keep this place going over the winter.’ Nikki was bullshitting slightly, but she wanted Suzanne to have a bit more confidence about her pack position. And it worked. Suzanne stood a little taller as Tamara joined them.
‘So what do you think?’ Tamara looked from Nikki to Suzanne.
‘It’s stunning,’ said Nikki.
‘Completely stunning,’ agreed Suzanne.
‘You don’t think it’s a bit over the top?’ Nikki was surprised by Tamara’s uncertainty. And her candour. ‘The designer went a bit nuts. We didn’t have enough money left to do the loos properly and you know how important loos are.’
‘Oh dear,’ said Suzanne, with the smugness of someone who wouldn’t have gone overbudget.
‘I think we made a mistake not using someone local.’ Tamara smiled at Suzanne. ‘We won’t make that mistake again.’ Suzanne didn’t know what to say. Was that a hint? ‘Have you got time for lunch here this week? I’d love your feedback.’
‘Sure. Just say when. I’m pretty flexible.’ Suzanne saw Nikki staring at her meaningfully. Don’t seem too available, her look was saying. ‘Except for Tuesday and Wednesday,’ she added hastily. ‘Oh, and Friday’s not good either.’
