Page 8 of Four of Hearts

Harry leaned back against the desk and looked around the office. At his team. His people. And, for one brief moment, everything felt ... easy.

His phone buzzed. He glanced at the screen, opened the message without thinking, and only then realised he didn’t recognise the number.

Photographs. The first was Harry and Grace, Ben and Liz, walking into the registry office. The next, them leaving. Then they were entering the pub. The next photo was zoomed in, showed them all out on the Shawl, sharing the champagne. There were others, but Harry closed the message, only to seeanother pop up from the same number. This time, just two words glared back:Congrats, Harry.

‘Harry?’

Matt’s voice brought Harry back into the room.

‘Everything okay?’

Harry slipped his phone into his pocket and forced himself to forget the photographs.

‘You tell me, Matt,’ he said, then added, ‘You’re Master of Ceremonies ...’

FOUR

Though Harry had firmly believed that a month was plenty of time for them to put together the celebration he, Grace, Ben and Liz wanted, come the end of the first week, he wasn’t so sure. By the end of the second week, he was convinced that a month was a ridiculous deadline and that they should all have a strong word with themselves. But there was nothing they could do about it now. Numerous wheels were in motion, and when two of those wheels were Matt Dinsdale and Margaret Shaw, there was no stopping them.

Friday had come round quickly, and work was, thankfully, not as busy as it could be. Harry dared to think that perhaps everyone across the Dales was behaving themselves. Or, if they weren’t, they were keeping it very quiet, so as to not ruin things. Very thoughtful.

Amazingly, and despite the fact that he felt as though things were getting away from him, everything was actually all in hand. He knew this, because he and Grace had come up with a plan of action, which was stuck to the wall by the dining table, and checked morning and night, with jobs ticked off as they were done.

Margaret had leapt at the chance to be the celebrant, Jadyn had somehow managed to sort out transport from Hawes marketplace to the river and back, and Mandy, along with everyone at the Fountain, was reassuringly on top of not just the food, but the cake, the decorating of the back room, and the music. The only thing they’d not yet sorted was a photographer.

‘The goats, though,’ said Harry, finishing off a slice of marmalade on toast. ‘We sure about that?’

‘It was your idea.’

Harry nearly choked on his toast.

‘No, it wasn’t. Dave just took something I said in jest, literally.’

‘It’ll be fine,’ said Grace. ‘I think it’s a nice idea, something for the kids. They’ll be in a pen round the back of the Fountain.’

Harry took a mouthful of tea and cleared his throat. He’d managed to bring Dave down from the idea of doing a goat dance, which had been a relief, mainly because Dave had been surprisingly convinced he could pull it off, and Harry really didn’t want to see him try. So, they’d met halfway, with Dave suggesting a little pen of goats for the children to go and see, when they got bored of what was going on. Harry had little idea of who these children were, or who they might belong to, really only knowing Matt and Joan’s daughter, Mary-Ann. But then the guest list was very much down to Grace, so he’d accepted Dave’s suggestion, and seen the big man swell with pride.

‘They’ll escape, though, I promise you that,’ he said. ‘That’s what goats do, remember?’

Grace gave a shrug.

‘You worry too much.’

‘You don’t worry enough.’

‘Then we cancel each other out, don’t we?’

Breakfast over, Grace left the house first, taking Jess and Cheese with her. Smudge stayed with Harry and instead of goingstraight to work, he decided to head off on another footpath across the fields. He soon found himself following along the old railway line, the scar of it still clear on the landscape.

With Smudge bumbling around just ahead of him, sniffing this and that, and occasionally stopping to stare at things, far off, that only she could see, Harry allowed his mind to drift. It was something he had once found difficult to do, as though he was in a constant state of alert. Now, though, the peace of the Dales, the almost profound beauty of the place, was more than enough to help him realise that there was more to life than his worries and concerns. The wedding celebration would sort itself out, and all would be well. They’d not yet decided on where they were going to spend their honeymoon, but at least he’d remembered to book the week off, so that was something.

Calling Smudge back, Harry turned for home. The morning was a bright one, with a breeze just the right side of cold, refreshing rather than freezing, and Harry watched buzzards corkscrewing into the sky above a small spinney. Arriving back at the house, Harry fed Smudge, then made his way into Hawes, this time in the Rav.

For a Friday, Hawes was strangely busy, he noticed, driving past the Penny Garth Café and seeing it was already buzzing with a large group of bikers. Further on, a tractor and trailer was parked up outside the Spar, and the carpark in the marketplace was already full. Harry managed to find a place, however, and with Smudge to heel, made his way down the lane and into the office. He was just about to push through the door, when it burst outwards and Jen crashed into him, quickly followed by Jadyn.

‘What the?—’

‘Harry! It’s Matt!’ said Jen.