Page 10 of Meet Me Under the Mistletoe
“Yes. He’s firmly in the spherical camp.”
“Well, that’s something. Maybe Jenna’s got a hot poetry-writing cousin who plays jazz and whittles woodland animals in his spare time. Our eyes will meet at the wedding over the hot buffet in the evening, as we both make a play for the lasttempura-battered king prawn, and we’ll fall madly in love,” Nory said dreamily.
“Those are quite specific requirements. That is, in fact, the opposite of loosening up.”
“It doesn’t have to be tempura king prawns. It could be chicken wings or mini pancake rolls.”
“Not really what I was referring to,” said Ameerah, frowning.
Mugwort was already asleep on the end of the bed when Nory climbed into it. She wondered how he would take to playing second fiddle to a baby while she was away. Matilda hadn’t been born the last time Andrew and Seb cat-sat, and Mugwort had grown rather used to their chicken terrines and nightly grooming; he’d been an absolute prima donna for a week after his return.
Nory sighed, pulled her laptop onto the bed, and balanced it on her knees. She had been putting this off for weeks, but she couldn’t avoid it any longer. She clicked on the wedding invitation and opened the dreaded wedding gift list.
It was as she had expected: tailored to the wallets of the well-heeled. She scanned down the list.Ooh spaghetti tongs! That’s more like it. How pricey could they be? £95??? What are they made of, gold? Okay, a spoon rest—£125 for a place to rest a spoon?This went on for some time.
Eventually, sandwiched between a bespoke hand-whittled garden arbor and a reproduction Art Deco–style drinks cabinet in solid walnut, she found a scented candle for £80. She winced as she pressed Purchase Now. She was glad to see that all gifts would be delivered to the bride and groom’s home address, so that she wouldn’t have the embarrassment of placing her gift next to the bronze statuette of Eros or the chaise longue upholsteredin Chinese painted silk. Nory imagined her dad launching into a rant about the abominable elite.
Nory dropped Mugwort off at Andrew and Seb’s after work on Saturday. The elderly cat had sniffed Matilda suspiciously before deciding she was acceptable company and allowing her to tug on his ears as he curled up next to her and Seb on the sofa.
“When’s your mum arriving?” Nory asked.
“Monday evening,” Seb replied. “I was going to pick her up from the airport, but she’s insisting on getting a taxi. She doesn’t want to be aburden.” Seb cringed as he said this. Seb’s mum made Mariah Carey look low maintenance.
“I’ve almost finished hand stitching the red carpet for her arrival,” said Andrew.
Seb’s mother lived in Boston, where Seb had grown up. She adored Serendipitous Seconds; the first time she’d seen it she had actually screamed, “Oh my sweet lord, did you ever see a more adorable store in your life?” which had instantly endeared her to Nory. She had also likened Nory to a brunette Marilyn Monroe, and this too had gone in her favor. Besides, Nory was used totrickycharacters; she had grown up with her dad.
“Are you sure you don’t mind having Mugwort?”
“My mother adores babies and cats, she can’t get enough of them. So the longer she’s lavishing her attention on them, the less time she has to focus on all the things that are wrong with me.”
“She’s still not keen on Seb’s decision to work for himself,” said Andrew. “She had him pegged for climbing to the top of the corporate ladder.”
“You want my dad to explain to her the error of her desires?” Nory smiled.
“I’m not sure my mother and your father shouldeverbe in the same room together!”
Mugwort seemed to have remembered that this was the household that fed him poached chicken breast and didn’t so much as look up as Nory said her goodbyes.
“Now I wouldn’t normally suggest this to anyone,” said Andrew, pulling her into a hug on the doorstep. “But since your man-bar is set so impossibly high, I feel it’s justified: Lower your expectations and increase your chances of finding true love!”
“What kind of advice is that? I thought you were a feminist!”
“I am a feminist. I am also a realist. Seriously, Nory, no human man is ever going to be able to climb the pedestal you’ve created in your mind. So, give mankind a break and be open to possibility.”
“You’re telling me to sweep the gutters for men?”
“Elinor Noel, your notion of gutter sweeping is most people’s aiming for the stars. Now get your game face on. It is a truth universally acknowledged that many people meet their soul mates at weddings, and this is going to be a big wedding. Spend the week leading up to it doing your homework on Charles’s and Jenna’s eligible relatives, and by the time the big day arrives you’ll have a plan of action!”
“You really don’t get out much, do you?”
“Almost never. Last week I got excited when I had to do a nine p.m. co-op visit for Calpol and nappies. It was the closest I’ve been to being out-out in months.”
Back at the flat, Nory packed the last of her clothes for the house party/wedding at Robinwood Castle. Nory was no stranger to Robinwood or the grounds surrounding it. It had been a part ofher life in one way or another for as long as she could remember. Her parents couldn’t afford holiday clubs when she was little, so Nory would shadow them while they worked through the school holidays.
She had fond memories of helping with the weeding and watering in the polytunnels at the nursery and handing long-stemmed flowers to her mum for floral displays up at Robinwood Castle. Sometimes she played in the castle gardens or read books while sitting on the big window ledges in the library. The marquis—also known as Lord Abercrombie—was very kind to her. He’d lived in the castle proper in those days; she understood he lived mostly in the east wing now.
Then, of course, she had attended the private school on the other side of Robins Wood, when the adjoining castle grounds became a place in which to hide out and bunk off. If they were caught by the head gardener, they’d been sent packing.
