Page 22 of The Wedding Cake Wish
‘Oh, God, think, think!’ I knock at my head. ‘I know. Mydad’s car mechanic, George, is brilliant. He’ll give us a tow, I’m sure.’
We get out and examine the damage while I talk to Dad on thephone. Then we lean against the van, looking around us.
‘It’s just as well it happened on this stretch of road,’says Molly. ‘The verge is so wide we’re not even blocking the road. But whatare we going to do about the boxes for the customers on the Carlton Estate?’
‘There’s half a dozen to deliver there. I can run them overin the car tomorrow morning.’
Just then my mobile rings. It’s Dad.
‘George is bringing the tow truck over but he’s on anotherjob just now, so it could be an hour or two,’ I report to Molly. ‘I’ll waitwith the van, obviously, but I’ll phone for a taxi so that you can get back home,okay?’
She shakes her head. ‘No need. I’m waiting with you.’
‘You don’t have to...’
‘I know. But I want to. I’m not leaving you on your own,Fen, especially the way you’re feeling just now. With Rob and everything.’ Theempathy in her eyes makes my throat choke up again. ‘Why don’t we wander upthat lane and see where it leads to? We’re in full sun here and I don’t knowabout you, but I’m feeling sweatier than a dyslexic onCountdown.’
I laugh. ‘I know. It’s so humid and those trees along thelane look so cool and shady and inviting.’
‘I’m pretty sure this leads to a stream. Well, more like ariver, really,’ Molly says, as we start walking. ‘Mum brings the dog for a walkalong here sometimes.’
‘This countryside is quite a contrast to the bleakness ofthe Carlton Estate,’ I murmur. ‘You wouldn’t think we were only half a mileaway.’
Molly nods. ‘Last time I delivered a box to Mrs Griffin, shewas telling me the estate used to be a lot better when the community centrethere was in full swing. Apparently, it was quite vibrant and full of life.’
‘The empty building looks so grey and bleak...areal eyesore,’ I murmur in agreement.
‘Mrs Griffin said there used to be a café and a designatedsports area for the kids, but the council cut their funding so the café had toclose and so did the centre, so now the kids have nothing to do except hangaround outside with their mates or stay in their rooms playing on theirconsoles.’
I nod. ‘It’s really sad... oh, look.There’s the river you were talking about.’
I point to a humpbacked stone bridge ahead of us, with waterrushing beneath it. Molly follows the set of worn stone steps on the left,leading down to the riverbank, and I’m just a few paces behind her.
‘I’d better phone our customers and tell them what’shappened.’ I fumble in my bag for my phone. ‘And I guess I’d better phone Mumand say I think we should cancel.’
Molly turns. ‘How much time have we got before we’re due atthe restaurant?’
‘Cocktails are at seven-thirty.’ I glance at my watch with afrown. ‘And it’s already after six. There’s no way we can make it, if we’rehaving to wait for a tow.’
‘I could wait on my own, if you like,’ she offers. ‘It wouldn’tmatter if I’m late.’
‘No way.’ I shake my head. ‘I’m not leaving you on your ownin the middle of nowhere.’
‘But it’s your mum’s special night.’
I smile grimly. ‘Exactly.Mum’sspecial night. We cando it another time. It doesn’t have to be tonight.’
‘But if she’s planned it...’
I sigh and flop down on the grass. ‘She’s planning so muchit makes me dizzy just thinking about it. I had another nightmare about thechurch last night.’
‘The church?’
‘It’s a beautiful building but it’s so enormous and cold and...scary.’I shudder. ‘Every time I think about walking down that endless aisle on Dad’sarm, with people I don’t even know staring at me, I feel sick.’
Molly nods in sympathy, but I laugh and shrug it off.
‘Just ignore me. I’m being ridiculous. Right, I need tophone these customers.’
