Page 140 of My Kind of Happy

Bing waggled his bushy eyebrows suggestively and Una smacked his leg.

‘Tofu not toffee,’ Annabel corrected. ‘Did you know that it only takes about two hundred gallons of water to produce one pound of tofu compared with two thousand gallons of water to produce one pound of beef.’

‘Oh Annabel, I’m so sorry,’ I said, mortified. ‘I didn’t realise you were vegan; that wedding cake I gave you last week had dairy in it.’

She shrugged. ‘I’m flexitarian.’

Bing scratched his beard. ‘I’m lost.’

So was I, but I made a note to look it up for future reference. Not that I’d probably see her much after the wedding, more’s the pity. The more time that passed, the more I realised that once the wedding was over, the florist’s shop would close and my time in Barnaby would be at an end. I quickly pushed the thought aside and for the next few minutes, we managed to come to an agreement about the menu. At thirty guests, Rosie was satisfied that she would be able to cope with the catering on her own and everyone offered to step in and help out on the day.

‘And drinks?’ Rosie looked at Hamish. ‘What does Laura like?’

Hamish and I grinned at each other; Laura was most likely to be seen nursing a pint of real ale in a pub.

‘Champagne,’ said Hamish. ‘Already in hand. A gift from a client.’

He named a footballer whom even I had heard of because he was regularly spread across the tabloids displaying his impressive six-pack.

Gina gasped. ‘Is he coming to the wedding?’

Hamish shook his head. ‘He’s on holiday with David Beckham that week.’

Annabel’s jaw dropped.

Just then Maria and Delphine stepped out onto the terrace via the kitchen doors. They hugged and Delphine went back in.

‘Nonna!’ Rosie called. ‘Over here, come and join us!’

But Maria simply waved a hand briefly and scurried off through the side gate and away from us.

‘Oh, shame.’ Rosie frowned. ‘She’s been very shifty just recently. It feels like she’s avoiding me.’

Annabel smirked and I shot her a warning look. She caught my eye and mimed zipping her lips.

‘It’s probably the heat,’ I reassured Rosie. ‘Perhaps she wants to get home and cool down.’

‘Hmm,’ said Rosie, unconvinced, staring after her grandmother. ‘As long as she’s not ill and hiding anything from us. Oh, look, here comes the bride!’

We all turned to see Laura walking slowly across the lawn towards us, turning her head left and right to take everything in. Hamish stood and held his arms open and she walked straight into them and burst into tears.

‘Thank you all so much,’ she sobbed, pulling away from his chest to speak. ‘This is all so beautiful, it’s perfect.’

She buried her head in Hamish’s chest again.

He and I exchanged worried looks. I’d expected an emotional response to the location of her wedding, but not this.

‘Laura? Is everything all right?’ I murmured.

She shook her head. ‘Dad’s being moved into a hospice tomorrow. Turns out he’s been in a lot more pain than he’s admitted because he didn’t want to worry me. All of his friends and ex-colleagues are ringing up wanting to come and visit. Plus, distant family members he hasn’t seen for years.’

Everyone mumbled how sorry they were. It was just over three weeks to go until the wedding. Would Terry make it, everyone was wondering? Even Annabel sat silently, her little face taut with concern.

‘I know what you’re thinking,’ said Laura with a watery smile, ‘But Dad says he’s not going anywhere until he’s given me away. He’s already discussed it with the hospital: if it comes to it, we’ll pay for a private ambulance to get him here.’

It would break Laura’s heart if her dad didn’t make it. But I knew Terry; he and his daughter had had an impenetrable bond since her mum died.

‘He’ll be there, I just know it,’ I said.