Christmas Wishes Page 9
The morning proved to be fun. Leesa’s friends Zara and Francie, a hairdresser and beautician respectively, were doing bride and bridesmaids’ hair and make-up in the bridal suite. Hannah stashed her overnight things in her room then joined the beautifying production line.
Even Amanda Louise was all smiles. ‘There’s this hot guy here. I overheard him talking about the wedding so he’s probably a guest. If so, I saw him first, girls!’
Jemima’s husband brought the smaller bridesmaids, Saffi and Raya, to have their hair woven into French plaits; the hotel delivered a brunch of fruit and pastries but Leesa and the little girls were too excited to eat and Amanda Louise too picky. Hannah and Jemima happily devoured pains au chocolat and nectarines.
When they were ready, Hannah thought they looked stunning. The little girls wore lace-trimmed dresses and Hannah, Amanda Louise and Jemima flowing satin. Amanda Louise and Hannah’s long hair was plaited at the top, then flowed loose from headdresses of cream rosebuds and dusky green leaves. Although Hannah had protested against the jumpsuits she had to admit they looked amazing, clinging to waist and bum then flowing like a satin river to swirl about her calves above pale peach stilettos. She wasn’t sure how she’d survive the ceremony, wedding breakfast and dancing in the suede stilts but it was what Leesa had chosen so she stepped into them.
The photographer arrived, a middle-aged man in a charcoal suit, and the bridesmaids gathered around the radiant Leesa whose cream dress shimmered, headdress glittered and veil floated like morning mist. Her bouquet of peach and cream rosebuds was a sweeping work of art.
Escorted by the sharply suited female event manager they formed a stately file down the sweeping stairs, the two little girls directly behind a Leesa now visibly vibrating with nerves, then Jemima. Hannah and Amanda Louise brought up the rear. Tinkling piano music wafted up to meet them over a hum of conversation from behind the function room doors. The events manager turned and beamed. ‘Ready, Leesa? Ready, bridesmaids?’ Then she opened the double doors and one of the celebrants raised her voice ceremoniously. ‘Ladies and gentlemen, please rise.’
Music grew and swelled as they glided down an aisle formed by rows of blue and silver chairs. Hannah’s eyes prickled as she saw Rob waiting with a beaming smile, shifting nervously on the balls of his feet. His best man was a guy called Eerich from Rob’s work whom Hannah had barely met. He and the celebrants faded into the scenery. All Hannah could focus on was the love in Rob’s eyes.
In fact, Hannah spent the entire service with a sob lodged in an aching throat. Rob and Leesa’s wedding had been in the planning so long that she hadn’t really understood the magnitude of pledging your life to someone in front of a crowd of people.
Imagine loving somebody so much that after decades, after children, after life’s trials and tribulations, you’d still want more. She envisioned that in thirty years it would be Rob and Leesa with retirement adventure plans, like Hannah’s parents, presently holding hands in the front row.
The service was beautiful. The guests sang, ‘You raise me up’ but Hannah was too choked to croak a word. Amanda Louise glared when she forgot to step aside during the vows and had to be nudged to the chairs reserved for the bridesmaids. A man’s hand appeared over Hannah’s shoulder and dropped two white tissues in her lap. All she saw apart from the hand was a snowy cuff and a dark sleeve but she gasped, ‘Thank you!’ and blew her nose.
It wasn’t until the service was over and the register signed that Hannah, in control of herself now and hiding her damp tissue beneath her bouquet, rose to follow Mr and Mrs Goodbody Junior back down the aisle to a joyful march ringing out from the piano and saw the person who’d been seated directly behind her. The man with the snowy cuffs, dark suit and clean tissues was Nico Pettersson. His hair was neatly cut now and gleamed golden under the chandeliers. His closely shaved face looked lean rather than gaunt. A girl in a blue dress stood at his side, her plait over one shoulder, and a toddler wriggled in his arms. They must be Josie and Maria.
Hannah only had time to hiss, ‘Thanks,’ and flash a smile before Jemima urged her into her place in the bridal procession.
In the grand entrance hall Hannah hugged Rob and Leesa. ‘Congratulations! Wow, that was so lovely.’
‘Thanks, sis,’ said Rob, beaming. He never stopped beaming, even through the interminable process of wedding photos as chattering guests looked on and wait staff circulated with trays of sherry and orange juice. The bridesmaids were needed as set dressing and Hannah’s feet began to hurt.
Between photos, Amanda Louise hissed, ‘Do you already know him?’
‘Who?’ Hannah waved at Nan, a vision in pale lemon with a matching feather in her white hat. Someone had fetched her a chair and she was watching with a fond smile and a sherry glass. Hannah could see her mum talking and her dad nodding along. Mo had clothed her cushiony body in a classic jade number and Jeremy wore a grey suit and a brocade waistcoat. Both parents looked pumped with pride.
‘The hot guy,’ Amanda Louise whispered. ‘He gave you the tissues.’
‘Oh. Friend of Rob’s,’ she said vaguely, feeling that Nico didn’t deserve someone as annoying as Amanda Louise ferreting for information on him.
Then the photographer began to call for parents to join the photos and then aunts and uncles, cousins and friends. Eventually, the whole party was perched on the grand staircase behind the happy couple shouting, ‘Hooray!’
Rob and Leesa shouted loudest of all.
Chapter Seven
Hannah was relieved when the wedding party was finally ushered to the top table, snowy white punctuated with peach napkins. She could glug down a glass of water and kick off her stilt-like shoes under the long tablecloth. She was still stuck with Amanda Louise. All the bridesmaids were on Leesa’s side of the table while Nan, Mo, Jeremy and Eerich the best man were lined up beside Rob.
Try as she might to remember that Amanda Louise, Leesa’s best friend, had to be put up with, Hannah couldn’t help but be irritated as her companion’s gaze lit on Nico on a round table nearby and she began to gush ostentatiously about the hotel’s gracious proportions.
The top table was being served by waiting staff but ordinary guests had to queue at a buffet and Nico, showing no sign of listening, went to juggle three plates of hot meats, quiches and side dishes. Hannah would have jumped up to offer a hand if he hadn’t been managing so swiftly and efficiently. She watched Josie play a game with Maria, who was strapped firmly into a high chair. Josie was a slender child with a ready smile, Maria a cherub with curls at the ends of her hair. Nico returned and set a plate before each girl.
As Amanda Louise expounded on the table wine Hannah ate hot beef, chickpeas and roasted tomatoes, still watching Nico’s group. Nobody would guess Maria wasn’t his. He divided his time equally between the two girls as Josie chattered and Maria ate with an approving, ‘Mmm, mmm, mmm.’
When the feeding frenzy around the buffet had passed, the staff delivered cake stands to each table and shortly after came the tortuous business of the speeches. Eerich was funny and Jemima touching, wishing their parents were here to see Leesa married but still enjoying the chance to speak at a wedding. Rob thanked everyone for joining in their wonderful day and the toasts marked an end to formality.
The volume of noise rose and people began table hopping. Nico set Maria free and Josie got down to play with her. Other kids joined them and soon they were skidding around the polished floor in their socks. Nico arranged himself so he could watch them, stretched out his long legs, poured a huge glass of red wine and unfastened his top shirt button behind the knot of his tie.
Amanda Louise began lecturing again, this time on the subject of the bridesmaids’ dresses. ‘I tried to persuade Leesa we should have silk. Silk’s so classy,’ she said carryingly. ‘I can’t bear anything man-made.’
Hannah retorted before she considered her company. ‘Not even orgasms?’
Nico snorted into his glass, then snatched up his na
pkin.
‘Fun-nee!’ sniped Amanda Louise and stalked off to talk to someone further down the room.
Nan shuffled up to take Amanda Louise’s seat, bringing with her the remains of a chocolate eclair. ‘That’s Rob’s friend, that Swedish boy, Nico, isn’t it?’ She licked cream from her fingers and nodded in Nico’s direction. He glanced up and smiled, apparently hearing Nan when he hadn’t acknowledged Amanda Louise’s clarion accents.
‘That’s right.’ Hannah gave him a wave.
Nico cast a glance at the playing children then got up and approached their table.
‘Remember me, young man?’ Nan demanded, her wrinkles refolding into a smile.
Nico’s eyes warmed. ‘Of course, Nan Heather. Rob brought me to your house and you gave us Battenberg cake. Hi, Hannah.’
Nan beamed at being remembered and was soon interrogating Nico about what he’d been doing since age eighteen and which of ‘these lovely children’ were his. Hannah tensed but Nico simply pointed his charges out. ‘Josie’s mine and Maria’s staying with us.’
After a while, Hannah excused herself to visit the ladies’, leaving Nico to listen to Nan talk about the children she fostered.
Hannah was still barefoot. She was waylaid several times on the way to the women’s room and though it was exciting and fun to see so many relatives and people she knew, she was fairly bursting by the time she finally made it into the ladies’ room – all flowered wallpaper and black basins – and shot into a cubicle. It wasn’t until she tugged down the zip at her back that she realised two things. One: the zip had snagged at the level of her bra strap. Two: she was quite alone.
How could that be, with a hundred women at the wedding?
She stretched over her shoulder with one hand and up her back with the other, trying in vain to tug free. Swearing, she exited the cubicle and waited by the basins for a minute, sure that a helpful female would come in soon, then gave up and opened the door to the foyer.
Just as Nico Pettersson strolled by, heading towards the nearby men’s room. ‘Nan Heather’s kindly watching the kids for a minute,’ he called.
Hannah was so uncomfortable by now that she was nearly dancing on the spot. ‘My zip’s stuck,’ she hissed. ‘These bloody silly jumpsuits!’
Laughter jumped into his eyes. ‘Turn around and I’ll fix it.’
Hannah, face on fire, complied. It took him a tug or two, a touch of warm fingertips on her skin, then he shifted the zip a couple of inches down, murmuring, ‘There you go.’
‘Thank you.’ Telling herself that the heat she felt was embarrassment, Hannah motored off into the loo.
Next time she saw him he’d returned to his table and been cornered by Amanda Louise who’d dragged up a seat and was leaning forward and talking intently, legs crossed and an elbow propped elegantly on one knee. She was an attractive woman, Hannah admitted to herself grudgingly as she checked on Nan, now happily occupied chatting to a cousin of Jeremy’s. One of Rob’s mates, a guy who owned the village garage, came up to shake Nico’s hand and Amanda Louise looked miffed.
Hannah’s attention was diverted when Maria scampered up with an adorable, pearly-toothed, wrinkle-nosed smile. ‘It’s our elephant,’ she announced.
Hannah giggled. ‘What is?’
Josie arrived breathlessly. ‘She means “it’s irrelevant”. She heard me say it and “it’s our elephant” is her version. Now she keeps saying it because it makes people laugh. Is there cake left on your table?’
As the three half-full tiers were at Hannah’s elbow Josie was obviously being polite but Hannah pretended surprise. ‘Why yes! What do you fancy?’
‘Elephant!’ suggested Maria.
Josie giggled. ‘There isn’t any elephant, silly. I think you’ll like this icing one. It looks like a mouse.’
‘Mouse.’ Maria nodded, clambering onto a chair in her white lacy tights.
Josie selected a custard tart and peeped at Hannah from the corner of her eye. ‘You know my dad, don’t you?’
‘Mydad,’ Maria pronounced, pointing a crumb-encrusted finger at Nico.
‘From when we were teenagers,’ Hannah agreed, selecting a chocolate brownie. ‘Rob, the groom, is my brother. Your dad was his best mate and used to come to our house. And his dad, Lars, is your granddad, right? I knew him too. He was lovely.’
‘What was Dad like?’ Josie looked fascinated over this ancient history.
Hannah dropped her voice so Nico couldn’t hear. ‘He was an amazing ice hockey player. Fast and crazy. We thought he’d play professionally.’
Josie looked faintly surprised. ‘Well, he doesn’t. He’s my dad.’
Their cakes disposed of, Josie lifted Maria off her chair, made an ineffectual attempt to clean her hands with the stiff wedding napkin then towed her across the polished floor, Maria squealing like a whistle.
Hannah glanced at Nico. Amanda Louise was still talking but Nico was watching the girls.
Then he looked over Amanda Louise’s shoulder at Hannah and smiled.
Hannah’s breath stopped in her throat.
Day had segued into evening and a function band on stage belted out popular tunes. Rob and Leesa were on their twentieth dance at least, faces alight, turning to talk to people but never quite breaking their embrace.
Hannah had danced with cousins, old school friends, with Nan and with Mum. She’d also drunk a lot of fizz. She was thinking about grabbing a seat when Nico appeared beside her. She hadn’t seen him for a while, nor Amanda Louise either, a fact she knew shouldn’t concern her. ‘Nan Heather’s a marvel,’ he said.
She laughed. ‘In so many ways! What’s she done?’
‘Got me a babysitter.’ He’d shucked off his jacket and his white shirt lay open at the neck. ‘Someone she knows is happy to sit in the room with the girls and knit and watch TV so I can rejoin the party. The girls met her before they went to sleep. With Nan Heather’s recommendation and my phone in my pocket I feel at ease.’
Hannah could see his shoulders had relaxed. ‘Nan still has lots of friends who are fosterers or childminders.’
The music slowed and Nico, as if it were a natural thing, offered her his hand. It felt just as natural to take it and follow his lead into a slow dance, her hands on the firm warmth of his shoulders. Coloured lights roved the room, switching his skin from rose to gold. ‘Are you wondering about Maria?’ he asked.
She gave a tiny shrug, saying, diplomatically, ‘Rob said you weren’t in the mood to talk about it.’ Even through his shirt she was aware of his skin.
His face shadowed. ‘Loren’s having problems.’ As they continued to move together, his hands on her waist, he went on to explain briefly that his ex had an alcohol and prescription drugs issue. ‘Loren’s mum’s taken her home but her dad’s had heart surgery and is quite ill. They can’t look after Maria.’
Hannah tried to compute the situation. ‘But …’ She halted, not knowing how to say, ‘How is this your problem?’
He sighed, his muscles flexing beneath her palms. ‘But … what? Try and get her into care? Insist Loren takes her back before she’s capable?’ He blew out his cheeks. ‘It’s been a nightmare arranging the childcare – a mixture of annual leave, working from home, help from my cousin Emelie and Josie’s nanny. It’s nearly impossible to get day care at no notice and it would be yet another change for a small, confused kid. Unfortunately, my boss hasn’t been sympathetic.’
‘Wow,’ she breathed. ‘Nico, you are a seriously good man.’
He laughed, most of his body brushing hers as they segued into a new song, something by Taylor Swift. ‘I guess I was brought up not to turn my back.’
She smiled up. Barefoot, she was short compared to him. ‘Lars was always kind. You must take after him.’ She added thoughtfully, ‘Maria seems a sweet kid.’
He nodded sombrely. ‘She wrings my heart. It’s as if she knows she’s reliant on my goodwill and hesitates inside doorways, wondering whether she’s welcome.’
He changed the subject. ‘Middledip still seems a great spot. Yesterday I drove into the village and took the girls for a walk. We stopped at a place called The Angel for cake.’
A vision of the coffee shop swam into her mind, resurrected from the shambles of a derelict Victorian pub and finished with a mish-mash of reclaimed features and restored furniture. ‘I’ll bet it was delicious. The Angel Community Café opened just before I left for Sweden. It’s a great success.’
He was still looking at her, his blue eyes dark in the dim lighting. ‘I’ll be in Stockholm again on Thursday and Friday, the nineteenth and twentieth of November. Will you be free?’
Warmth spread through her. ‘How about the nineteenth? Meet me at the shop and I’ll take you for that dinner I owe you.’
‘Great.’ His eyes smiled. They danced on, talking about what Nico remembered of the village and those fun four years when he and Rob had played for the Peterborough Plunderers. Gradually, Hannah was aware of them heating each other’s air space, their bodies brushing more often and more fully.
She watched his mouth and the light of laughter in his eyes. ‘That looks good on you.’
‘What?’ His eyebrows rose.
‘The smile.’ He looked so abashed that she changed the subject. ‘Don’t you play ice hockey now?’
The laughter faded. ‘Rarely. I gave up my athletic scholarship and went to Sweden for the final year of uni.’ He drew her close enough that he could lower his voice and still be heard over the music. ‘I had a friend in Minnesota, another Swede. Jan Frick. Our American friends called him “Freak” because he was so fast. Popular, talented, doing well in college games. Then he got involved in a scuffle on the ice. Helmet came off and he took a hit to the head.’
‘Oh, no!’ Involuntarily, Hannah’s arms tightened around his whipcord body.
He nodded. ‘He’s still with us but … head injury.’ His eyes were full of pain. ‘He can’t live independently. I realised I’d never be hungry enough to get over things like that. It flattened my ambition.’