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‘I should get this outside before it’s stewed.’

‘It’s the not knowing that’s getting to me. Logic tells me that we’re over. I haven’t heard from Shaun for ages. When I last saw him, he hardly said a word, and yet an annoying part of my brain keeps telling me it doesn’t feel over. Something in me won’t let go of that nagging hope that he still loves me.’

‘I suspect he does. But he’s dug himself into a hole so deep that he can’t see a way out.’

Thea picked up her mug of coffee and the cake tin. ‘Come on, enough self-pity. This is your special weekend. Let’s go and eat some cake.’

‘Always a good plan.’ Tina smiled. ‘We need enough to line our stomachs. Mini hen party tonight.’

‘I love that you and Sam are referring to your stag and hen evenings as “mini” events.’

‘Well, we don’t want to get drunk and go through tomorrow with hangovers, so they will end at 10 p.m. sharp, and sober.’

Thea laughed. ‘You’re the boss.’

*

It was a relief to get out of her Land Rover. The traffic on the motorway south had been a nightmare. At one point, having driven just one mile in an hour, Helen had begun to believe she’d be better off walking to Mill Grange

‘Four and a half hours! Oh well, at least I’m here in time to have a wash and change before the hen do!’ Brushing her hands down her jeans. Helen hooked her holdall over her shoulder, and headed straight to the back garden, bypassing the house, in favour of following the bustle of activity she could hear going on behind it.

Tom, who’d been keeping an eye out for her ever since she’d sent a sneaky text while stationery in a traffic jam to warn she was running late, stopped what he was doing, and came to her side.

‘It’s looking good.’ Helen nodded to the marquees that were already erected. ‘I see I interrupted chair positioning duty.’

Tom hugged her. ‘I’m glad of the break. Chairs lose their fascination after a while.’

‘I can imagine.’ She gestured towards the marquee furthest from them. ‘What’s Sam doing? Looks like he’s wrestling something.’

‘A stubborn patio heater. We’ve ordered a couple for each marquee in case the spring weather delivers less than the hoped-for sunshine tomorrow.’

‘Sensible.’ Helen’s gestured towards the kitchen. ‘Any chance of some grub? I’m famished.’

‘Come on, let’s find your lunch. Mabel saved you some sandwiches and a slice of cake.’

‘That would be great.’ Helen lay a hand on his arm. ‘Before we join the others though, any word from Sue about her trip?’

Tom’s smile faded. ‘She sent a text this morning. September. No exact date has been given. There are visas and things to sort.’

‘September.’ Three and a half months before we lose Dylan. ‘Does he know yet?’

‘No. Sue doesn’t want to worry him until she has to, and for once, I’m in agreement with her.’

Fifty-four

Friday May 22nd

Although Thea had enjoyed helping Tina get Mill Grange ready for the wedding, and it was great to have Helen there, she felt detached from everything that was going on. As if she was a voyeur watching the fun rather than being a part of it. She’d lost count of the number of times she’d looked towards the door, the main gateway, or the drive.

It made no difference. Shaun hadn’t arrived. As the hours ticked by, she was increasingly convinced that he wasn’t coming.

‘He won’t let Sam down.’ She threw some grain into the chicken run. ‘I know he told Sam and Tina he’d be here after lunch and it’s nearly five, but he’s a good man, Gertrude. His friends are important to him.’

The hen tilted her head as if to ask, ‘Why isn’t he here then?’

‘Held up in traffic like Helen was, maybe. A last-minute meeting with Julian, perhaps – although I hope not.’ Thea looked over to the wedding marquee. It was deserted now after a few frantic hours of chair placement and planning where they’d put the flowers in the morning.

She closed her eyes. ‘Minerva, am I being a fool here? Should I give up hope with Shaun?’

The goddess of wisdom was unhelpfully quiet as she dropped some pepper slices into the coop and took her leave. She had a hen party to get ready for. Thea didn’t think she’d ever felt less like partying in her whole life.

*

Sam engulfed Tina in a massive hug as the friends split off into two halves. Thea watched as they said goodbye as if it would be years until they saw each other again, not just one night.

Before leaving the manor, the last job had been to make sure Tina had left nothing she might need the following day in the downstairs bedroom, and move it to the bedroom she was using upstairs. Her dress, dutifully collected, was already awaiting her on the wardrobe door.

As the future bride and groom said goodnight, the group peeled off, with Sam, Tom and Bert making a beeline for Moira’s finest ale in the Stag and Hound, while Tina, Thea, Helen and Mabel headed towards Sybil’s.

Shaun’s absence had not been mentioned.

‘Welcome!’ Sybil threw open the door to her tearoom. ‘May the after-hours’ shenanigans begin! Bucks Fizz anyone?’

*

Tina was giggling uncontrollably as Sybil finished telling stories about some of the things she’d got up in her youth. ‘And there we were thinking you were such a good girl! I’m shocked!’

Sybil winked. ‘I’m nothing compared to Mabel here! Right heartbreaker she was!’

Mabel didn’t deny the accusation as she lifted up the jug of orange juice, ready to dilute the champagne she’d already poured into her glass.

Helen, who’d been drinking her champagne unadulterated for the last hour, reached for the juice after Mabel. ‘I’d better go easy, or I’ll be walking backwards down the aisle.’

Tina giggled. ‘You will be anyway.’

‘I will?’

‘I saw Tom in his wedding clobber today. You aren’t going to want to take your eyes off him, and the usher stands at the

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