Page 29 of Finding Love at Roseford Blooms
‘That should do it,’ she said.
‘Thank you,’ Simon said again, and their eyes locked until Simon coughed nervously. ‘I’ll, er, see you a bit later?’
‘See you later.’ Lizzie smiled at him. As he left the chapel with Finn, she watched them both in animated conversation and wondered how the two of them had become such great friends. Simon was so unworldly, and Finn was such a huge star, they seemed an improbable pair. But they were both wonderful men and obviously enjoyed each other’s company.
‘I don’t think I’ve ever seen Simon so nervous,’ Bee’s voice interrupted Lizzie’s musings as she joined her by the chapel door.
‘Well, if Simon doesn’t get this wedding right in the eyes of the BHF, they’re not likely to clear any others in the chapel, are they?’ Lizzie reasoned, her eyes still following the receding backs of Simon and Finn.
‘Not about the wedding – he’s been nervous for weeks about that.’ Bee looked shrewdly at Lizzie. ‘When you were pinning on his buttonhole.’
‘He probably thought I was going to stab him with the pin!’ Lizzie laughed, but her face started to burn. Every encounter she’d had with Simon seemed to lead to an unsettling set of emotions and standing so close to him just now had been no different. She had to get a hold on herself; she wasn’t in Roseford forever, and she didn’t want to get caught in the net of the past. All the same, she reflected, she couldn’t help but be pleased by Bee’s observations.
25
Simon glanced at his watch as he walked towards the gates of Roseford Hall. Finn said goodbye until later, and ducked through the gate, hurrying back off in the direction of the Treloar Arms, where one of the brides-to-be, Montana de Santo, and her bridesmaids were preparing themselves for the big day ahead. Finn was acting as best man for Montana. ‘Not chief bridesmaid, then?’ Simon had teased.
Simon glanced at his watch again. He didn’t really want to waste time hanging about at the gate, and hoped that the BHF contact, a guy named Mike Walcott, would arrive soon. To reconfirm to himself that he had the right details, he swiped to his email on his phone again and was just rereading the correspondence when a voice broke into his concentration.
‘Simon, my man, good to see you. This place is just as crappy to get to as I remembered, though.’
Simon nearly dropped his phone. The voice, cutting into his reverie, took him back years. Over twenty years, actually. He hurriedly pocketed his phone and then looked towards the owner of the voice.
‘Jago?’ he said carefully. ‘Jago McAvoy? What are you doing here?’
Of all the people who could have turned up on this day, Jago was the absolute last person he wanted to see. Jago had made Simon’s life a living hell when they’d been at school together, and when Simon had left Cross Dean for the last time, Jago was one of the people he’d hoped vehemently never to see again. And now, here he was, standing in the grounds of Roseford Hall, smirking confidently as if they were both teenagers again. Not to mention what the bastard had put Sarah through as well, he thought darkly.
‘Mike Walcott couldn’t make it, had a bout of sickness late last night, apparently, so I’ve stepped into the breach. Since I knew where the place was, I said I’d take this inspection on.’
Simon felt keenly as though Jago was assessing him with every word. The years suddenly seemed to have rolled back, and he felt shaken and decidedly wrong-footed. Simon shook Jago’s hand numbly when it was offered, but when he tried to speak, he found that his mind had gone blank.
‘Well, shall we get this over with?’ Jago said, by way of not-so-subtle prompting. ‘I’ve got a family barbecue to get back to this afternoon and I want to get back on the bloody M5 before the tourists crash and have it closed again.’
‘Sure, sure,’ Simon said. His heart was racing inside his ribcage, and the adrenaline was spiking in his veins. He was not that boy from school, he reminded himself swiftly, as, on autopilot, he guided Jago up the driveway and across to the chapel.
As the two of them walked, Jago kept up a fairly constant monologue that required only the briefest of responses and occasional nods from Simon. It was only when Jago asked after his sister, Sarah, that Simon tuned back in.
‘She’s fine,’ Simon replied. ‘Two girls of her own, now.’
‘But I heard the husband buggered off,’ Jago pressed. Simon remembered him always having a nose for gossip. ‘What’d you do? Drop a sconce on him or something? The last time I saw this place, it was falling apart.’
‘As you can see, it’s a lot different now,’ Simon said stiffly. ‘And frankly, Jago, that’s none of your bloody business.’
‘All right, all right, keep your hair on.’ Jago flashed Simon a far too self-assured smile. ‘I just wouldn’t have minded saying hello, that’s all.’
Simon remembered how heartbroken Sarah had been when Jago had dumped her just before her A levels, and immediately started trying to think of a way to get a message to her that he was on site. Perhaps he could send her a quick WhatsApp when Jago was doing his rounds. After Sarah’s divorce, Simon had felt incredibly protective towards his sister, and he wanted to keep Jago as far away from her as possible.
They were nearing the chapel, and Simon felt instantly soothed seeing Lizzie and Bee coming out of the main door.
‘All set,’ Bee said as they met outside. ‘I’ve left Lizzie with another spray bottle, just in case anything needs pepping up before the ceremony.’
‘Thank you so much, Bee,’ Simon said. Then, to Lizzie, ‘I’ll save you a seat in the church.’ Finn had raised a speculative eyebrow when Simon had asked him if Lizzie could come to the wedding as his plus one, but he’d checked with Montana and Serena, who had a little space from a couple of last-minute cancellations, so were fine with it.
‘Thanks,’ Lizzie replied.
‘I’ll see you later,’ Simon said.
‘Yes,’ Lizzie replied. ‘You’d better go and keep an eye on your friend there. I take it he’s the one doing the checks for the BHF?’
