“I just want to make sure we’re not simply doing whatIwant.” I took in all the lists we’d made. “I mean it is your wedding too, remember?”
“You’re right. Idolove a big party.”
My heart sank.
“But, Tess, this is more than that. We’re getting married. The way I see it, we could go all out. Have a grand reception for friends and family, including relatives we haven’t seen in years. Then in the evening, invite everyone else we’ve ever known. But what would be the point? Who would all that effort and expense be for?” He let out a laugh. “Not us.”
“You really mean that?”
He rose to his feet and, taking my hands, pulled me onto mine. “I’d be happy heading to the nearest registry office on some random Tuesday afternoon.” He wrapped his hands round my waist. “Grabbing some stranger off the street for a witness and walking out as man and wife.”
Taking in Leo’s earnest expression, I smiled, feeling both relieved and pleased at the same time.
“In fact, howareyou fixed for this week?”
I laughed at the suggestion. “As romantic as that all sounds, getting married isn’t actually that easy.”
Leo narrowed his eyes. “What do you mean?”
I wrinkled my nose as I recalled what Wendy had said. “Bureaucracy. We have to submit a notification of intention to marry. Between one and three months before the event.”
Appearing almost disappointed, Leo rested his forehead against mine. “Then we’ll just have to make do with a posh conservatory in September, won’t we?”
Chapter 13
May
Getting our thoughts about the wedding down on paper had done wonders for my productivity. It was as if getting organised had freed up the artistic space in my brain. Day after day, I’d wedged, centred, and thrown, to then turn and trim my creations ready for drying out.
After a busy time in my studio, the last thing I wanted was to spend my Saturday scrubbing the house from top to bottom ready to receive the rest of the Cavendishes. I’d have much preferred to put my feet up and enjoy a few hours with my pencil and drawing pad. I had some designs I wanted to get down, thanks to all the new ideas swirling around my head.
I glanced around the pristine bathroom, knowing that wasn’t going to happen, and carrying an empty bottle of bleach and stinking of chlorine, I trudged out onto the landing and made my way downstairs to the kitchen.
Leo was ready and waiting for me with a tin of spray polish and a duster, enough to tell me I wasn’t finished on the cleaning front.
“I thought I was done.” My whole upper body crumpled. “Can’t you just ring and tell them I’m sick?”
He stared at me with a raised eyebrow.
I straightened back up. “But my artistic side is calling.”
The man didn’t budge.
I fake coughed.
“It’ll take you five minutes, Tess.” I followed his gaze as he looked over at the kitchen worktop where a beef wellington was set to go in the oven. He turned his attention back to me with a smile. “Unless you want to finish making dinner?”
Not only had cooking never been my forte, I found hosting the Cavendish family get-together stressful enough without having to listen to Mum complain about soggy pastry and raw meat. It wasn’t that I didn’t enjoy spending time with my family. I simply never had a lot to contribute.
Living out in the sticks and loving the solitude that came with it meant I didn’t have much of a social life and being a potter, there weren’t many face-to-face dealings with customers to talk about. The Cavendishes might nod in all the right places, but they didn’t really want to hear about fettling and luting. I only had to say the termbisque fireand everyone’s eyes glazed quicker than my pottery.
I swapped the bleach bottle for the proffered cleaning products and turning around, I chunnered to myself, asking why I’d even contemplated marrying such a goody two-shoes as I headed off into the lounge. I stopped in the doorway.That’s why, I thought. Shaking my head at Leo’s silliness, I couldn’t help but chuckle thanks to the sight that met me. “Leo,” I called out.
Curled up on the rug, Otis lifted his head and looked my way, before settling back down again.
“Could you come here, please?” I put on a pretend stern face and as Leo appeared in the hall, I could see he was doing his best not to giggle too. “What’sthatdoing there?” Recalling our conversation about keeping children away from the fire, I pointed to the mantelpiece where the newly framed photo from Mum’s newspaper announcement sat loud and proud above the open hearth. “Anything to do with the fact that our eleven-year-old niece is arriving shortly?” I asked. Ignoring the fact that it was springtime, and the fire wasn’t lit, I waited for an answer.
Leo tried to swallow his sniggers. “You’re going to make me pay for this, aren’t you?”
