Page 12 of The Wedding Cake
“My wedding cocktail menu needs to take pride of place though,” said River. “Wine is good but nothing beats my blueberry lavender sangria.”
“Except maybe your rhubarb Bellini,” Alice reminded him.
Fortunately, the first catering company on the agenda was also located close by, and its sample wedding menu was so delectable – roasted red peppers with cod, avocado tartare with shrimp and crab, chorizo from acorn-fed pigs, the amusingly breast-shaped Tetilla cheese, gourmet tortilla, vegetarian paella and barbecuedeverythingimaginable– that Alice and River unanimously agreed they didn’t need to test anywhere else. To keep the rest of the wedding’s costs as low as possible –something of a necessity after the colossal amount being spent on the finca and the cake! – Mervyn suggested that they serve the eight-tier showstopper as their dessert, which pleased River immensely, totally defrosting his initial reaction to their wedding planner. And it would only make a small dent in the amount of cake left to divvy up to the Spanish villages on their honeymoon.
The florist, photographer, and churros vendor were visited in snappy succession – all of them Marbella-based businesses. Sadly they ran out of time to fit in the makeup artist and hairdresser but Alice had since experimented by asking her friend Zara if she’d have a go at popping her tresses in two French plaits with flowers woven through the braids, figuring that if Zara’s artisan chocolate handiwork was anything to go by, she’d likely be just as creative in the beauty stakes. Mercifully she’d been proven right, and Zara – and her boyfriend, Bruno – had RSVP’d to say they were flying over to Spain for the big day.
On Friday afternoon Alice and River ran through the figures in Malaga with Mervyn, who took them to a ‘cereal café’ in the city, right opposite Hollywood star and local legend Antonio Banderas’ theatre. Which was rather exciting because the man himself was currently producing and starring in a musical there, and tickets were still available for the evening performance.When in Rome…But funnily enough, Alice hadn’t been so thrilled at the prospect of eating cereal for a late lunch and plumped for a baguette. River had been a kid in a sweetshop though. He and Mervyn (who was clearly a regular at the café) scanned the shelves trying to find the most unusual packets of cereal to devour – with imports from America and Australia, as well as some of stranger British prospects, the choice was seemingly endless. River got himself in such a kerfuffle that he ended up settling for a brand that he was already very familiar with: Kellogg's Crunchy Nut Cornflakes. Meanwhile, Mervyn asked the waiter for a bowl of Post’s Fruity Pebbles…topped with Smurf-blue milk. Alice could barely look.
There were still a few things to drill down into on the supplier side. They hadn’t been able to squeeze in a visit to the Marbella stylist who was kitting them out with mini-Cath Kidston style teepees for the children who would be in attendance, and reams of bunting to be draped artfully all over the garden, but those finishing touches could be arranged from afar to avoid another trip to Spain during such a busy period.
Now they were back in freezing cold Somerset, Alice knew that the time would fly. That’s the way it always went when life was already busy. February and March would soon merge into one. By April, the stables would be completed and the first two of Alice’s horses – Cotton Candy and Applejack – would have arrived, with the rest of the gang (who were also named after the original My Little Ponies) trotting along behind them in May and June. Meanwhile, River contemplated the café side of the business, setting up meetings with local farm and cider suppliers so he could showcase the very best organic produce in both the little eatery and the shop.
“Jimmy’s Farmcomes to Glastonbury!” their friend, Hayley had quipped. Her comparison with Jamie Oliver’s bestie’s set-up, on Channel 4 in the early 2000s, had irked River good and proper.
He didn’t ‘do’ mainstream TV.
Alice could see Hayley meant well – but she didn’t know River like Alice did. Her husband-to-be put his own stamp on everything. From music to cocktails to food, he always had a unique vision. Besides, this was hardly a working farm, but a horseriding business; a stables with a charitable mission. The café wouldn’t only be used by locals paying them a visit to buy top quality products. Alice and River intended to work with state schools and underprivileged kids as well – particularly those from cities, who rarely got a glimpse of rural life. Their lessons and lunches would be funded by wealthy business sponsors, as well as their own profit. The two ventures couldn’t be more different.
Alice couldn’t wait until her wedding, her honeymoon, and her return to her forever home with her best friend.
TIM
“But I don’t get it.” Tim scratched his head. “You loved the roller coasters when we went to Blackpool and Disneyland Paris! I thought you were a thrill-seeker? I booked this as a romantic Valentine’s surprise the moment you mentioned the wedding planning trip and I realised we’d be in Spain on Feb the fourteenth. I thought it would be something special for our last day here together. It’s always you choosing the restaurants and footing the bill so I wanted to do my bit for once. The paragliding wasn’t cheap, Piper. I’ll lose the money if you don’t go.”
Tim never called his girlfriend Piper. Now she would know he was miffed.
“Oh, babe!” Piper glanced at him over the top of yet another copy of¡Hola!and he wondered when exactly she’d become so fluent in Spanish. “I’m so sorry. I love everything inside a theme park, yes. But extreme sports are a tad different, aren’t they?”
Tim didn’t think so. A roller coaster travelled faster than a glider on a parachute, and it definitely churned your stomach more efficiently than a tumble dryer.
“I couldn’t go even if I wanted to.” Piper pouted.
FFS, what now?
“I’ve had another last-minute invite and I’d be a numpty to turn it down.”
Surprise, surprise. Why hadn’t he seen that one coming?
“And what about us?”
Tim hated sounding so needy but this was getting ridiculous. They’d hardly seen one another and, when they had, Piper had been consumed with airbrushing her photos before posting them on her various accounts. Or she had been accosted by yet more Instagram, YouTube and TikTok groupies, as he sat across the table, keen for some kind of conversation – foranykind of conversation – with the woman who was soon to become his wife.
“Believe me, I know how rubbish it must look, and I’m sorry. But doing coupled-up things on 14thFebruary issocommercialised,” she said. Tim reeled. It was almost a slap in the face. “We’ll arrange something else when we get back home, yeah? Maybe we can go back to Blackpool! It’s not every day that Sophia and Talia just happen to be in the same town, and they’ve organised a massive Valentine’s-inspired social media shoot at one of Marb’s top beach clubs.” So suddenly Cupid commercialismwasokay. Go figure. “It’s opening exclusively for us, out of season, which is unheard of unless you’re an A-lister or royalty. It’s going to be an epic opportunity for some dreamy pics and vids.I smell video virality!”
Piper flicked her hair over her shoulder as if she was already there. Tim remained silent, sad to see that she was engrossed in her magazine again, although he supposed it made a refreshing change from the screens.
“You should totally keep your booking though,” she said as an afterthought without even looking at him. “We’ll meet up in the evening for dinner instead and then you can tell me all about it.”
“Great,” Tim muttered under his breath. “Remind me again why I bother?”
“Don’t be like that. It doesn’t suit you.” Piper paused and exhaled deeply, reluctantly casting the magazine to one side but resting a protective hand on it. “I really thought you weren’t like the others. I hope that’s not going to change… especially not once we’re husband and wife.” Her sigh turned to a frown. “I promise I’ll make it up to you. I bought some gorgeous new underwear in the erotic boutique here in PB.” Piper’s lazy smile followed a long and leisurely wink.
But neither had cut it. He needed more than the carrot-dangle of sex. And so Tim had spent the rest of the day sorrowful at his girlfriend’s constant flurry of ‘last minute’ work opportunities. The next morning and lunchtime too. Until he’d got a taxi to Marbella’s old town on his tod and trudged his heavy footsteps to FOM, the bakery that called itself a cakery – where he’d met one Freya Ashcroft.
Present day (or night) Tim pulled the shutter down on the aircraft window, determined not to travel down recent memory lane. He tried to relax into the flight back to Manchester, shutting his eyes, determined to count sheep. But his mind wouldn’t let him go anywhere but back to the cake tasting he’d attended alone in Freya’s courtyard.
He’d been beyond embarrassed for turning up so early – as mortified as Freya had been, when she’d let slip that he was the first groom in a decade who’d arrived solo for a wedding cake tasting. Mervyn had been due to accompany Tim and Piper, but he’d got caught up in traffic in Malaga. And yeah – sigh – Piper had prioritised a ‘last minute’ invite to a champagne yacht party in Puerto Banus. It would ‘dent her career’ if she didn’t put in an appearance.
