Page 118 of My Kind of Happy

Chapter Thirty-three

‘So what do you think of my domain?’ I asked Laura as soon as she arrived at the florist the following Saturday morning.

‘I think it suits you perfectly!’ she exclaimed brightly, although there was no disguising the new smudges of tiredness beneath her eyes. She stood just inside the door, inhaling deeply. ‘And it smells gorgeous: all fresh and cool and full of life. And everywhere I look there’s something lovely.’

‘And now you’re here, there’s something even lovelier.’ I pulled her in for a hug; she seemed insubstantial in my arms as if she’d already lost weight since she’d received her dad’s devastating prognosis a few days ago.

I put on a brave smile, determined to make sure she enjoyed her visit to Barnaby today. It was noon, exactly twenty-four hours until my date with Sam, which was my current reference point for time. The sun was blistering hot outside and along with Scamp and all our flowers, I was wilting in the heat. I’d brought in a fan from home and he and I were sharing the breeze, which helped slightly. It had been a quiet morning – people just weren’t buying flowers today – but it had given me a chance to make sure everywhere looked perfect for Laura’s first visit and get on with writing a to-do list for her wedding.

‘You sweet talker,’ she said with a quiet laugh. ‘Thanks for suggesting I come over today, it’s doing me good just having a couple of hours out of Dad’s house.’

I’d popped in to see Laura and her dad, Terry last night. Laura had moved back in with her dad temporarily and the three of us spent an emotional couple of hours in the garden looking at Laura’s parents’ wedding album. The talk inevitably turned to Laura and Hamish’s wedding and my stomach had swooped with nerves; so far I’d made virtually no progress except for enlisting Lucas next door to help decorate the venue – when I finally found one. And it turned out that nothing could be done until the venue was booked, so the twenty-eight-day notice period hadn’t even started yet. No pressure …

At one point Laura had gone back inside to fetch us drinks and Terry squeezed my hand and thanked me for helping her.

‘Listen, Hamish has offered to pay for their wedding but she’s my only daughter, I want to pay for it all, no arguments,’ Terry had said. His voice was weak but there was no mistaking the strength of determination in his eyes. ‘Whatever she wants, she can have. Horse and carriage, sit-down dinner for two hundred, thirty bridesmaids, don’t even think about the money, it’s hers. She’s my world.’

I’d nodded and promised I’d make sure he got his wish somehow. The easiest place to start was with the flowers, hence inviting Laura in to see me today.

‘Come and see me any time, or call me and I’ll be there,’ I said now, meaning it and then I tapped my shoulder. ‘See this: anytime you need to lean on it, it’s yours.’

‘Thanks, Fearne, you’re already helping more than you realise. For a start off, you’re the first to see this.’ She waggled her hand in front of my face and a gold ring set with diamonds caught my eye.

I grabbed her fingers and gasped. ‘Your engagement ring! When did you have time to choose this?’

Her eyes were sparkling with tears when she smiled at me. ‘Hamish had bought it a few weeks ago, he’d been planning to take me to Paris and propose on the Pont Alexandre III, but then with Dad …’

Her voice faded out and I nodded, understanding what she didn’t want to put into words.

‘He’s a keeper, that Hamish,’ I said, catching hold of her hand. ‘And you can go to Paris anytime.’

‘The fact that he already had the ring is romantic enough,’ she said softly. ‘It means that he wanted to marry me before all this happened. At least I know it wasn’t a spur-of-the-moment idea.’

I smiled wistfully. Unlike his best friend, Freddie, who’d proposed to his girlfriend at the stroke of midnight one New Year’s Eve because he’d been carried away with the moment.

‘Oh and my dress!’ she exclaimed. ‘I’ve fallen in love with one. Hold on, I’ve brought the magazine I found it in.’

She fished into her bag and pulled it out and we spent the next few minutes oohing and ahhing over lace and tulle and I jotted down ideas for colour schemes and flowers and invitations.

‘Just so you know,’ I said, ‘we might be pulling this wedding together in a hurry, but it’ll be no less awesome for that.’

‘I have every faith in you,’ she said, smoothing her coppery hair behind her ears. ‘And the most important thing about my wedding day is that Dad is there. Hamish and I have the rest of our lives together to celebrate our relationship. I want a simple day, short and sweet, no pomp and ceremony.’

‘Understood,’ I confirmed. ‘And Terry has asked to settle all the bills, no arguments.’

She gave a rueful smile. ‘I can hear him say that. It was his standard phrase at bedtime when I begged to be allowed to stay up and watch Big Brother on a school night.’

‘He’ll always be with you, you know,’ I murmured. ‘In thousands of little memories which pop up when you least expect it.’

‘Just as long as my wedding day memories include him,’ she said worriedly. ‘That’s the most important thing.’

And we both had a little cry.

Later on Maria came in to the shop as I was working through a list of phone numbers for possible venues. We needed to find somewhere which could host the marriage ceremony and the wedding reception so that Terry wouldn’t have to be transported from one place to another. So far I was drawing a blank and I was glad of the break.

‘Buon giorno, Scampito,’ she cooed at the dog, who was so hot, his only reaction was a limp flap of his tail.

I beamed at her. ‘Hello, Maria, you look like a glorious butterfly today.’