The Fix Up, page 25
“It’s over the lounge,” she said with delight. “How fabulous, you’d never know it was here from the front. And that gorgeous vista again. I love it.”
“I remember you saying you like a view when you work,” Moss said diffidently. “So I asked Roddy, he’s the guy who keeps an eye on the place for me, to get a desk here and arrange for those cupboards and shelves. We can change what you don’t like or don’t want.” He waved towards a cupboard. “There is a wee fridge, kettle and cafetiere for you of course. Oh, and a loo through that door. Which was the cause of the flooding—some numpty didn’t tighten joints properly or something. It’s all fixed and useable now.”
Thank goodness.
“That’s great, but I thought you said it was your study?” If it hadn’t been dust free, and but for the telescope in one corner, she would have deduced it was unused. “What’s with the telescope? Are you a secret star gazer?”
He shrugged. “In theory it’s my study, or so it was described on the plans of the house. In practice I hardly ever use it apart from bird watching—the feathered kind, dirty mind, hence the telescope given to me by my dad for my thirteenth birthday. I do like the thought of villains coming to a sticky end as you look out and see if you can see any herons, though.”
If she hadn’t already loved him, she would have fallen in love with him then.
* * * *
Over the next week or so, while Moss was at work, Arietta spent most of her days in the study. Writing, plotting or gazing at the view. She’d seen a heron, without recourse to the telescope, written the plot for a new book, not in her usual genre, and tentatively suggested it to her agent who loved the idea.
The first flurries of snow arrived, but luckily didn’t settle, and even though it was cold, Arietta managed a walk every day. Sometimes just to the lochan and back and sometimes around the grounds of the hotel, which, as she explored, she fell in love with.
She braved the gym while it was empty—once—and decided she preferred to walk in the fresh air—and enjoyed a brisk half hour’s swim most days. Then she’d go back to what she privately thought of as her eyrie and write, energised and enthused.
When Moss arrived home, cold, tired and hungry, Arietta was ready for conversation if he was up to it, or just sitting together if not.
She could definitely get used to it.
“I had the strangest message from Kristin today,” she remarked ten days or so after they’d relocated to Thuinich. “It says don’t bother with a hat, I promise no Alice bands, see you tomorrow at eight a.m. P.S. don’t eat breakfast. If she’s talking about Saturday”—the day of the wedding—“my poor hat will feel unloved, unwanted and neglected.”
Moss laughed. “We’ll go to the races and you can wear it then. I got one from Tarquin saying ‘be at yours at eight a.m. tomorrow, have whisky handy’.”
“At eight a.m.? Sounds strange. What do you think is going on?”
Moss speared a piece of lamb off his plate and ate it before he answered. “Dunno, but what is weird is that when I spoke to Audie on my way home, she never mentioned it. She was still going on about bleeping Alice bands, her word not mine. I didn’t ask in case it’s something she shouldn’t know, but…” He shrugged and studied the tureen of vegetables. “Could I manage more? Yes, but I’ll be good and I won’t.”
Arietta laughed as she stood up to clear the table. “That’s because you’ve seen the apple sponge.”
He held his hands in the air. “I cannot tell a lie, it’s true. A man can resist extra veggies, he can’t resist an Arietta Clare Apple Sponge. Bring it on.”
“Custard?”
He gave her an incredulous look. “Are you kidding me? What else?”
“Cream, ice cream, as it is…?”
“All of the above except the as it is?”
Arietta shook her head. “In your dreams, Kirby, in your dreams.”
“No room. All my dreams are full of you.”
Aww.
“Is that why you mutter and say, ‘not a chance, no way, get lost’ in your sleep then?”
“What?” Moss almost shouted the word and looked flabbergasted. “I don’t, I haven’t.” He stroked her cheek. “Oh, God, no.”
Arietta patted his hand, immediately contrite. Why on earth had she replied in such an awful way?
It was that or cry and go all soppy.
“Not lately, no. There was one night you muttered something along those lines, ages ago, but you added ‘Percy, you’re an ass’. Well, I think that’s what you said. I’m sorry, but I had a moment.”
“A moment?” Moss sounded puzzled. “How do you mean?”
Arietta wound her arms around his neck. So not like her, but so she thought the very right thing to do. “It was that or burst into happy tears and make you all soggy. It was such a special thing to hear.” She sniffed. “Oh shoot.”
It was a good thing he understood, and he didn’t have an early call the next morning.
* * * *
Arietta woke up as her alarm trilled. She’d hummed and hawed over whether to set her alarm and in the end thought maybe she should. Just in case.
The just in case had happened.
She shook Moss. “Wake up, we have an hour.”
He smiled and reached for her. “Plenty of time. We can have several quickies in an hour.”
“Moss,” she said, exasperated. How was it possible to be aroused and worried at the same time? “Kristin and Tarquin will be here in under an hour. We need to get up and shower.”
“Okay, you run it,” he said obligingly. “I’ll join you in a sec.”
“Separately. We do not have time for…for…anything else,” she finished in a lame way.
“Later?”
“Yes, later, now get moving. Use another shower. I am not greeting visitors in my birthday suit.”
He sat up, wide awake, and mock leered. “You can greet me in it any time.”
“Good, thank you, get up and…oh hell.” She glanced at her phone. “Forty minutes and counting.”
“They won’t mind if we’re less than wide awake,” Moss grumbled as he threw back the duvet and shivered. “Brr, has the heating not come on?”
“It’s on, but not got warm enough because we forgot to bring the time it comes on forward. It’s cold outside by the look of it and it’s started to snow again.” Arietta had peered through the blinds. “It’s settling. Thermals at the ready.” She headed into the bathroom and took the second shortest shower on record, which included washing her hair.
Twenty minutes later her hair was almost dry and she’d managed a swift eyeliner and lippy application—if they were having visitors she wanted to look as if she hadn’t scrambled into her clothes five minutes before, even if she had. Arietta dressed in warm cords and a long slouchy cashmere jumper, put her feet into her old and trusty fleece-lined Uggs and wondered if she could get away with gloves until she warmed up. Fingerless of course. Otherwise it would be hard to make the coffee.
However, gloveless, by the time Moss entered the kitchen, she’d warmed up and the view through the window showed the garden was white and the snowflakes bigger.
“Will they get here?” Arietta asked. “I’d hate for them to get stuck halfway up the M80 or over the moors.”
Moss moved the coffee pot off the stove, where it had been bubbling away furiously. “I bet you they stopped at the hotel or in one of the cottages last night. I can’t see them arriving here at eight if they didn’t. Why I still don’t know, but as I saw a certain car heading up the drive out of the study window when I went to see how it all looked out there, I can guess.”
“You can? Who? What? Tell me?”
He shook his head. “Nope. Guess.”
“Grrr. Moss, I’ll tickle it out of you.” Arietta advanced on him, her fingers outstretched.
Moss laughed and nipped behind the table. She pushed the table towards him at an angle, went the other way and effectively blocked him in.
Moss looked at the table, obviously considering…
“Don’t you dare,” Arietta warned. “It’s got the coffee cups… Moss, you rotter.”
He did a victory shimmer. He’d vaulted over and now poured coffee into the cups as if he didn’t have a care in the world.
“Please give me a clue,” Arietta begged. “Just one teensy tiny idea.”
He hummed a few lines of a well-known and very recognisable song.
“What?” she said, astounded. “You think that?”
“Well, it would put a spoke in the B-Ts’ snobbish wheels, wouldn’t it?”
Chapter Seventeen
“I’ve never played mother of the bride, chief bridesmaid and half of the congregation before,” Arietta whispered to Moss an hour later. “And never thought I’d do it in a fake fur coat and leather Uggs.”
“Nor me in a padded parka and walking boots, but I love it, don’t you? Shall we do it as well?”
“I’d prefer a secluded beach and warm sunshine,” Arietta said as her heart missed a beat. Was that a proposal or a rhetorical question? “Or anywhere warm and non-midgiefied.”
“I’ll remember. Think of which beach.” Moss grinned as she went hot and cold.
Really…ohhh…enough. He might not mean it.
“For now I’ll concentrate on us not going A over T.” Moss held her hand as they crunched through the snow—which had luckily stopped falling and allowed a weak and watery sun to show—towards a small, very small snow-covered marquee, in the middle of what in the summer was a flourishing rose garden.
It’s more like a tent, but each to their own.
“Why on earth are they having it outside?”
“Romantic,” Moss said as he held back the door flap to let them enter and once they were through dropped it down again. “Allegedly. Whew, thank goodness.” He gestured towards a large patio heater that was doing its best to warm them and their surroundings.
For all it was a small space, it was cheerful and it was romantic, with soft flowing drapes and waterfalls of winter flowers that included lucky white heather and cyclamen. Music played softly in the background, which added to the ambience. However, it still wasn’t warm enough to shed their coats.
“It’s outside inside really,” Moss said and dodged her playful swipe to his bum. “We’re not eating out here, promise. What’s the time?”
Arietta glanced at her watch. It wasn’t easy, as she had the sleeves of the coat pulled well down over her wrists and the cuffs of her gloves well pulled up. “Three minutes to.”
There was the sound of several people walking towards the marquee.
“And here they are,” Moss said cheerfully. “I hope. Can’t have a wedding without them.”
“It’s us and I don’t have an Alice band on.” Audie burst through the doorway and danced up to them. “Look, isn’t it fab?” She pointed to her fake fur hat and jacket. She handed a bouquet of heather and greenery to Arietta. “We get these, aren’t they fab as well?”
“Definitely. Lovely and perfect,” Arietta replied. “Spot on.”
“I get to wear jeans too,” Audie said. “Warm.”
“Oh yes,” Arietta said. “I’ve got cords. And”—she lowered her voice—“thermals.”
“I’m glad your clothes didn’t stop at the jacket and hat,” Moss said as Audie giggled. “Be a bit chilly.”
“Daad, honestly.” Audie shook her head and looked at Arietta. “How do you put up with him?”
“She loves me,” Moss said complacently. “Ignores my wee ways.”
“Well so do I love you, and put up with your wee ways,” Audie said. “But you still make me groan.”
“He makes me groan as well,” Arietta assured her. “But as he makes good coffee, I forgive him.”
“Oh well…” Audie said, and did a wiggly jiggle. “Ohh, here’s Mum and Tarquin. Isn’t it jell?”
“Oh yes,” Arietta turned to Moss. “Jell?” she whispered. “Jealous?”
He did a tiny shake of the head. “Jelly bean, the best scene, only known to Audie and her mates, I reckon. Or well, jell as in well jealous, but in this case more likely the former.”
“Fair enough.” Arietta turned to the door—aka the flap—and smiled as a beaming Kristin, dressed very similarly to Arietta and Audie, entered arm and arm with Tarquin.
“Go on,” she said to her groom. “Get up there with Moss. Then I’ll natter to Arietta and Audie and be fashionably late.”
“Too cold to be late, hon,” Moss said. “Buck the trend.”
“Please,” Tarquin said fervently. “Before I forget my words.”
“You won’t.” Moss dragged him forward at the same time as the celebrant entered and, with a word of welcome to them all, moved to the long, cloth-covered table at the far end of the tent.
“Oh God, thank you,” Kristin said. “We couldn’t face the bun fight and were overjoyed to be able to do this. Mum and Dad won’t speak to me for years but I don’t care. We can have the reception in our glad rags but this…this is more meaningful. It’s for us, not them.”
“I get that and I agree. Your day.”
“Come on, Mum, let’s do it.” Audie kissed her mum and turned to Arietta. “We follow, don’t we? Then they can say I do and we can go indoors and have some soup while they take pictures in the snow.”
“You’ll be in them,” Kristin said. “Tough luck, I did warn you.” She winked at Arietta. “Arietta will be okay.”
Arietta bit back her grin. She hadn’t known what was going on but reasoned she could take layers off but not add them if she didn’t have them with her.
“What?” Audie blinked and turned to Arietta. “How? It’s freezing. How will we cope?”
“Thermal knickers,” Arietta said. “Will work wonders.
“Ah, that’s why Mum wanted me to wear them. Bummer.”
“Let’s go, folks,” Kristin said. “Before we freeze our”—she glanced at Audie—“bits off.”
“Can I go back in for my knickers then?”
Thank goodness no one else is around to hear that.
“No time, as the celebrant’s waiting,” Kristin said. “Stand near the heater and think of the soup.”
The short and simple ceremony was lovely. Kristin and Tarquin said their vows in clear voices, and when pronounced man and wife kissed each other, followed by a kiss to Audie and hugs for Arietta and Moss.
Arietta surreptitiously wiped her eyes as they signed the register after the bride and groom.
“Okay?” Moss held her close to him.
“Weddings get me here.” She pressed her hand over her heart. “Especially ones that seem so right.”
“It was spot on, wasn’t it?”
“Oh yes. Short, simple and oh-so sweet.”
Moss kissed her cheek. “I’ll remember that. Adding in warm—”
Audie came up to hold both their hands and he didn’t say any more.
Arietta wondered if she was happy or disappointed about that. A bit of both probably. It wasn’t the time or the place to be put on the spot, even if it turned out to be a hypothetical question.
“Photos now,” Audie said. “Mum says I won’t have time to get cold. Come on, they‘re going outside.”
“Yes, Miss Bossy.”
Audie giggled. “Someone’s got to be, and Arietta’s being polite.”
Moss groaned. “Someone’s got to be,” he parroted. “Let’s go or they’ll forget we’re here.”
The photographs in the snow were mercifully short and sweet, and the snowball fight as the photographer snapped them was amusing and fun, even if they did all end up with snow down their backs.
Audie had a demon aim.
“Got to be a cricketer,” Moss commented as he shook his head and snow fell all over his shoulders. “Great shot, your mum now needs to wipe her face.”
“So does your dad.” Arietta rubbed a handful of snow over it then turned and ran towards the house.
His last snowball hit her on the back of her knees. She turned round and did a victory jiggle. “Hahahaha…urgh.” Tarquin—who had the worst aim of them all—had actually hit someone.
“Ooops,” he said. “That was meant for Moss. Ah, there’s a man waving. I think our wedding feast awaits.”
* * * *
A few hours later, stuffed to the gills, as Moss put it, and awash with champagne, Arietta and Moss walked back home arm and arm through the rapidly melting snow just as dusk was falling.
“That was lovely,” Arietta said. “Magical in its own way, though I don’t envy them telling the B-Ts.
“They’ll have the celebration, though, and be seen to be seen. That’s what matters to the B-Ts.”
“Not my idea of heaven, but hey ho, each to their own.”
“Will you go and get Audie as soon as she’s said hello to her grandparents?” Arietta asked as they approached the cottage. “Or is she stopping up there overnight?”
“Here,” Moss said as he unlocked the gate and relocked it behind them. “As we offered. She gets on well with her grandparents but in a place like the hotel they’d be hard-pressed to entertain her. She doesn’t want to be in the cottage with her mum and Tarquin, and rightly so. Kristin will text when she’s ready to come down, and I or we can pop up to get her in the buggy if I judge enough time has passed since the fizz. If not, I’ll get one of the hotel’s buggy to take us both ways.”
“You didn’t drink much,” Arietta pointed out. “A glass and a half maybe? But I like the way you think.”
Moss waited until they were inside, coats and boots off and sitting side by side with a cup of coffee, before he spoke again.
“Do you?” he asked. “Really?”
“Do I what?” Arietta replied, confused. What was he talking about?
“Like the way I think.”
“Oh, right.” He’d gone back to her comments outside. “Of course I do, I wouldn’t be here otherwise.”
