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No room for the bride’s one family member? Surely you understand where I’m coming from when I say that she’s a handful. I try to get along with her, truly I do. But how does one deal with someone like her?
‘Er, Audrey? Seeing as the engagement party has been postponed, maybe you don’t have to kill yourself organising it anymore. Stephen and I can do our own planning now.’
Regarding my gown, if I open my mouth, I might say something irreparable to the MIL for which Stephen will make me pay for tenfold with one of his oh-so-carefully-plotted guilt trips. But as far as my own (new) family is concerned, in her twisted mind they have no importance whatsoever. Different weights and different measures and all that. But this ends now. Because now—
A loud laugh rips through my ear.
‘Nonsense. No one can plan their own engagement party, let alone wedding – at least not the way it should be. You’re lucky I’m in charge.’
What actually makes her think that? I wonder. But then I answer my own silly question. Stephen and I are responsible for her attitude. And I’m even more responsible than him, truth be told. Because I hadn’t nipped it all in the bud when it became obvious that she was going to be running the show. At first I thought she was just being overzealous and eager to please, and being new to the household, I didn’t want to seem ungrateful. But then as time progressed, she gradually, and always with a smile, took over.
Stephen was absolutely ecstatic about it, while I was left wondering how I’d ever got myself into such a situation. ‘You can’t let her mother you only when it’s convenient for you,’ Stephen had once said. I should have known better – and have only myself to blame.
‘Oh, and by the way,’ she adds. ‘I need to pre-approve her wedding attire. We don’t want any clashing colours for the wedding album.’
Do you still think I’m kidding? Yes, it’s all true, and no, I’m not embellishing it in the least. That’s authentic Audrey Stone for you. I don’t know how I haven’t managed to throttle her up until now.
‘Audrey,’ I say before she can catch her next breath. ‘I’m going to have to call you back.’
And before she launches into her next tirade, I hang up, finding myself in front of a quaint little pottery shop called Bits ’n’ Pieces. The window is packed with the colours of Christmas and fairy lights, resembling in many ways the cake replica of Starry Cove, decked out for Christmas, looking very much like a nativity scene. How positively adorable! It’s all there, the breakwater, the bakery, the pub, the church – everything! Oh my goodness, could Starry Cove be any lovelier?
‘Nadelik Lowen! Mother-in-law blues?’ comes a voice at my elbow, making me jump.
I turn to see a very pretty blonde woman with a huge set of keys stepping up to open the pottery shop.
‘Ugh, yes,’ I admit instinctively. ‘What’s that you said,Lowen?’
She smiles. And it’s such a pretty, natural smile.
‘Nadelik Lowen! It’s Cornish for Merry Christmas. We like to start early in Cornwall.’
‘I’ll say! AndNa-nadelik Lowento you, too, thank you.’
‘It’s cold out here – come inside for a cuppa,’ she urges, using the largest of her keys to unlock the door as she jerks her head at me, beckoning me to follow.
And like Alice in Wonderland, I do.
‘This Christmas dream shop… it’s yours?’ I marvel.
‘It is, thank you. Come on in and browse. No need to buy. I’m happy for some company. Plus, I don’t want to be guilty of eating all these by myself,’ she whispers, producing a cake container.
Despite the fact that I’ve already eaten The Rolling Scones out of house and home, my mouth begins to water.
‘It’s pumpkin pie,’ she whispers mischievously, her blue eyes bright with a childish excitement that I can’t resist.
‘Oh,’ I laugh. ‘Well in that case, gladly, thank you.’
She’s so sweet and friendly I can’t help but marvel. Can you imagine anyone in London inviting an absolute stranger for a hot drink andcake?
Once inside, I stop and look around me, slack-jawed. Every shelf is full of the most colourful Christmassy ornaments possible: angels, snowflakes, Santas and Rudolphs. It’s like Christmas has exploded in here and I can’t get enough of it.
‘Are you visiting family?’ she asks as she unwinds her scarf from her neck. ‘Please, sit, sit. I’ll put the kettle on.’
To tell or not to tell? I’m supposed to be incognito.
‘Sort of.’
She smiles as she pulls out a tiny tablecloth and sets it over the small round table in the corner and selects a couple of chunky ceramic mugs, one in the shape of Rudolph and another of the Gingerbread Man, and I can’t help but grin in anticipation.
