“Does he feel the same?”
I pondered the question, recalling how Leo’s eyes had lit up at the sight of Mum’s mood boards. Leo hadn’t mentioned that he preferred a big affair, but I couldn’t deny he appeared to like the idea. Dismissing my train of thought, I told myself I was being daft and ignoring the knot developing in my stomach, insisted I was worrying over nothing. “He’d have said something if he didn’t.”
We watched India head back into the garage again, only to reappear with a wheelbarrow loaded to the brim with two-litre fizzy drink bottles.
“Here’s hoping Mum got the message then,” Sal said.
“I’m keeping everything crossed. She nodded in all the right places. That’s got to be something, right?”
India began pouring each bottle’s contents into the paddling pool.
“I’d loved to have seen Leo’s reaction,” Sal said. “He must think she’s mad.”
“If only. He thinks it’s only natural for Mum to be excited.”
“Ah, but there’s excited and there’s excited.”
“That’s what I said.”
Sal laughed. “And then there’s our mother.”
“Exactly!” Continuing to look out of the window, I shook my head at the situation I was in. “Honestly, the details in those boards, Sal. Anyone would think Leo and I were famous. Then again, even if we were, I still wouldn’t want to walk down the aisle with my hands in a muff.”
With her cup to her lips, Sal let out a laugh, spraying herself with tea.
I laughed at the mess she’d made. “Or expect guests to drink from a champagne fountain.”
“Oh, I don’t know,” my sister said, her amusement continuing as she mopped herself down. “I’d give that last one a go.”
“Maybe I would too at someone else’s wedding.” I fell quiet for a moment. “It’s not funny really, Sal. I dread to think what other ideas Mum’s going to come up with.”
“You can blame Louise Patterson. It’s her fault you’re in this mess.”
India poured the red food colouring into the mix, giving it a good stir with her hand before picking up an altogether different bottle.
“Is that washing-up liquid?” I asked, watching my niece discharge the whole lot into the paddling pool.
Sal nodded. “Which reminds me, I need to add that to the shopping list.” She turned serious. “When you think about it, as much as we blame LP, Mum’s always been the same. Remember our school nativity plays?”
I let out a laugh. “Don’t remind me.” While the other shepherds were wrapped in white tablecloths and wore tea towels on their heads, Mum made sure our costumes were full-on authentic. With our ankle-length robes, attached coats and traditional matching head pieces, we could easily have been extras in a big budget film project. I cringed at the thought. No matter the character, Mum gave our costumes the same attention to detail, and while the teachers might have loved her efforts, for some of the children, they were a source of ridicule. “I think I’ve still got a shepherd’s crook somewhere.”
India made her way to the garage yet again, this time returning with a couple of empty buckets in one hand, while dragging a hosepipe along with the other. My curiosity grew as she half-filled the buckets with water. “Now what’s she got?” I asked. She seemed to be opening tube after tube of sweets.
“Chewy mints.”
“Like Mentos?”
“Yep.”
India dropped them into the buckets of water, then added Sal’s baking powder.
“I suppose I could ring Mum,” I said, getting back to the discussion at hand. “Arrange to nip round just to make sure weareall on the same wedding page.”
“It wouldn’t hurt I suppose. Plus it might put your mind at ease. For all your worrying, she could have listened to your every word and has locked her scissors and glue stick away.”
I hoped Sal was right. Mum might have delusions of grandeur from time to time, but deep down I knew she wouldn’t really want me to have a wedding day I’d rather forget.
The front door opened and closed. “You’ll never guess what Patricia’s gone and done!” Ryan suddenly called out.
