‘She wants a bloody unicorn now!’
Ellie had phoned through to Deana’s office, her fifty-something friend and colleague, and Lord Henry’s long-term PA. Deana was down-to-earth, warm-hearted and had been Ellie’s rock in times of crisis through her early years at the castle. She was also helping Ellie with the wedding coordinating that seemed to be taking up so much of her time these days. Ellie needed to share this latest, crazy request from Bridezilla. The wedding itself was only three weeks away, and the daily phone calls and demands from the bride and her mother were getting more and more extreme. It wouldn’t be so bad if they’d choose something and stick to it, but it was an ever-evolving wish list, that pushed Ellie’s organisational skills and patience to the limit.
‘A unicorn, how the hell do we get a twatting unicorn to a wedding?’ Deana gave an exasperated sigh down the line.
‘It’d be funny, if it wasn’t us had to deal with it,’ Ellie commented. ‘Are there any white horses around the village?’
Deana laughed, ‘It’s a starting point, I suppose … But how exactly are we going to make it grow a horn from its head?’
‘I have no idea. I’m just trying to think creatively.’ Ellie was shaking her head at the craziness of the situation.
‘Come and see me later, when Irene’s in, and you get five minutes. We’ll put our heads together over a cup of tea.’
Irene was the latest addition to the teashop staff and what a godsend she had been. Wendy, the florist, had recommended her. She’d been a school cook, was now retired, but found she had too much time on her hands and was desperate to find some local work. She was a happy soul, never made a fuss, and could bake like Mary Berry; her cakes were very traditional but amazing. Her Victoria sponge was to die for, and her fruit cakes, wow, they were proving quite a hit as wedding cakes. Irene would make the fruit-laden cakes, feeding them well with brandy over a month or so, and Ellie would use her creative skills to ice and decorate them – they made fabulous celebration cakes. The lovely Irene was also a dab hand at quiches and scones.
At the interview, she’d reminded Ellie of a younger Nanna, with her neat grey curls, warm smile, and with her love of baking too, that had sealed the deal. Ellie had learnt her baking skills from her Nanna. She remembered vividly standing on a stool as a little girl, stirring the cake mix, in her Nanna’s galley kitchen in her brick terraced house in Newcastle-upon-Tyne. She still missed her so much; Ellie would love for her to have seen the success she’d made of the Castle Teashop, and to be able to have a really good catch up with her over a slice of cake and a cup of tea. But yes, having Irene to help, was the next best thing, and it had freed up some valuable time for Ellie to coordinate the wedding events they hosted at the castle, knowing the teashop was in safe hands.
‘Well, we can’t afford to upset the bridal party. We still need the final payment.’ Deana brought her back to the here and now.
‘Yes, I know. We really can’t scoff at the money they’re prepared to pay. But blimey, we’ll be working for it. Oh and get this, we need hundreds of white rose petals to line the chapel aisle, the reception tables and the honeymoon suite. Wendy’s going to love having to peel those off one by one. And, they have to be perfectly fresh – done on the day. Silk ones just won’t do.’
‘Oh well, Wendy’ll just have to charge an hourly rate for petal picking on top of the flower bill.’
Whatever they did for this wedding, Ellie was sure it would never be quite enough in the end, but they could only try their best. She usually loved her wedding co-ordinator role at the castle, but this particular wedding was turning into a bit of a nightmare, pushing her to the limits.
‘Right, better get on, Deana. I’ll catch you later. I’ll pop across when I get chance.’
‘Yeah, see you soon, pet.’
Ellie couldn’t stop thinking about poor Daniel, wondering how he was after his accident. It had kept her awake in the night. She wished it was their wedding she was sorting out, not this bloody nightmare couple’s. Before the customers started piling in for the day, she’d give Lucy a call, and see how they were getting on.
But first, Ellie quickly looked in on the tearooms. Irene had just arrived and was busy baking; a couple of Victoria sponges by the looks of it. Her fresh strawberries and cream filling was going down a treat with the summer visitors; perfect with a cup of Earl Grey, or Darjeeling. Ellie had extended the tea range with a host of new flavours and some herbal specialty teas. Doris had struggled with this at first, Who on earth would be wanting peppermint or ginger tea, and camomile and honey, really? What’s wrong with a cup of Rington’s traditional breakfast? But they had, and she continued to serve it with a frown.
They were also doing well with their ‘afternoon tea’ special. Irene’s mini-scone selection was a delight, and she’d cut dainty slices of all the teashop favourites for the three tier stands, including Ellie’s lemon drizzle and the now famous Choffee Cake (chocolate and coffee in layers), as well as crust-free perfect fingers of smoked salmon and cream cheese, cucumber, and ham and local honey-mustard sandwiches.
‘Morning, Irene. You’ve cracked on well already.’
‘No time like the present. And how are you today?’
‘Good, thank you. Ready for another busy day. We have a coach booked in for lunch at oneish, so I’ll pop some extra jacket potatoes in. Do you think you could make a couple of extra quiches too?’ Irene’s quiches were amazing – leek and bacon, salmon and asparagus, and her good old Quiche Lorraine with roasted ham and extra-strong cheddar, yum. Her pastry was even crispier than Ellie’s.
‘Of course, lovey. I take it you’ve ordered in all the ingredients I need.’
‘Yep, all in the store and the fridge. Thanks, Irene.’
Ellie popped through from the kitchen to the teashop itself, where Doris was giving the pretty rose-patterned oilcloth covers a wipe-over ready for the day ahead, and topping up the water in the posy vases. Ellie felt proud as she walked in there; of how the teashop had come on, and how she had grown herself, what she had managed to achieve by following her dream.
The teashop was set in an ancient sandstone-walled castle that dated back to the Thirteenth Century. The tearooms had the same rugged stone walls, and high ceilings, with a minstrel’s gallery that looked down over the twelve tables. There was a huge fireplace that was always lit whatever the weather or season, keeping the tearooms cosy. There were two sets of lead-patterned windows on the inner wall that, if you stood on tiptoes on the seating nooks, you could peep out from into the courtyard of the main castle. So much must have happened here over the centuries. So many lives lived out. Kings had stayed en route to and from Scotland – the castle being nestled in the border lands of Northumberland. Servants and masters will have loved and lost, had their children, grown old, died young, here. The dramas, the dreams, the happiness, the sorrows.
Ellie carried through two cakes she had baked that morning to set on the counter; a carrot cake and a rich chocolate sponge with dark cherries layered with whipped cream. Her chocolate-chip cookies were cooling on wire racks and would be ready shortly, and Irene’s scone selection would appear next. The counter display looked scrummy, she had to admit. It was nice to have a lovely selection of cakes and goodies on show for the castle visitors, and hopefully it would tempt them to spend out on a homemade treat. Ellie had had to develop a keener business mind as well as her baking skills – there were staff to pay and a living to make for herself. She’d started making up pretty cellophane-wrapped bags of mini brownies, shortbread and meringues that guests could buy to take home too – they were proving very popular.
Once everything was set up, Ellie nipped back to the kitchen. There was one phone call she really wanted to make.
‘Hi, Lucy. How’s Daniel getting on?’
‘Oh Ellie, how lovely of you to call. Well, he’s so, so … It’s going to be a long job. To be honest, he’s in a bit of a bad way.’
‘Oh no. What a shame. I’m so sorry to hear that.’
‘He’s just got so many broken bones, his whole body has got to recover. It’s tough on him.’
‘And you too, I bet. How are you? It must be so hard for all of you, Dan’s family too.’
‘I’m okay, surviving. I’m trying to stay strong for Dan’s sake. I’m at the hospital every day with him. Fitting it around work … my firm have been great actually. And, he’s chatting a bit now, which is brilliant, but he gets really tired. Even a conversation can whack him out. But hey, we’ll get through somehow.’
Bloody hell, there she was, her fiancé in hospital, her wedding day cancelled, trying to make the best of things. And bloody Bridezilla had it all, and couldn’t see it. Really, what did it matter if it was a unicorn, an Aston Martin or a push-bike taking her to her wedding, as long as she had one and a healthy groom to be with? Just to be able to take those vows, and to mean them, that was the special thing, the important thing. Yes, of course try and make it a wonderful day, but hey, count your blessings, and all that. Ellie felt very lucky to have had her lovely wedding with Joe there at the castle, with all their friends and family around them. But it was more than just that day – it was now, it was forever, a partnership.
‘Yeah, you will. The two of you will get through all this. You make a great couple.’
‘Thanks, Ellie. It’s just so hard seeing him like this, you know. And, he still hasn’t got any sensation back in his legs yet.’ Lucy’s voice broke a bit then, ‘What if he can’t walk, or ride his motorbike again? That’ll be so hard for him.’
‘I know, petal. But fingers crossed it’s just a short term thing. You’ll just have to hope, and trust in the doctors.’
‘Yeah, of course. Well hey, thanks so much for phoning.’
‘No worries, I just wanted to find out how you both were.’
‘Thank you. And sorry to be a bit down … it’s just hard keeping positive all the time. And I try not to show Daniel if I’m worried, I’m trying my best to cheer him up. But every now and then I wilt a little. It’s so frustrating for him at the moment, trapped in that hospital bed. Even though the staff there are lovely with him. Anyway, it’s nice to be able to be honest with someone, and I feel like I can be open with you.’
‘Thanks, I’m glad you feel that.’ Ellie felt a catch in her throat. It had become so much more than just a job, arranging the wedding for this couple. It had already grown into a friendship. ‘And Lucy, it’s totally understandable to feel upset. God knows how I’d be if Joe ever got hurt like that.’
‘Well, I’ve got to get off to work, and then I’m straight back to the hospital again. But thanks so much for ringing. It means a lot.’
‘You’re very welcome. Pass on our best wishes to Dan.’
‘Will do.’
‘Actually, I was a little worried it might upset you, me calling you, reminding you of the castle, and your wedding and everything.’
‘No, absolutely not. That’s what’s keeping me going for now. It’s my dream to get back up there, Ellie. Whatever it takes, whether Dan can walk or not, I can’t wait to have our wedding day. It might have to be a bit different to the one we’d planned, but I want it even more now. One day, I’ll be Mrs Daniel Clark.’
‘Well, whenever you are both ready let us know. We can soon get everything sorted out at this end for you. And if there’s anything at all we can do in the meanwhile to help, just shout, yeah?’
‘Will do. Thanks Ellie, I appreciate that.’
‘Take care, both of you.’
‘And you. Bye.’
‘Bye.’ As she clicked her mobile off, Ellie sighed. She so hoped it would work out for them, that Dan would make a full recovery. They were trying to be so positive, to make the best of such a horrible situation.
In Deana’s office, four o’clock. The teashop had been hectic, and this was Ellie’s first chance to get away.
Deana’s emergency kettle was coming to a boil; a strong brew was definitely in order.
‘Right then. I take it you’ve had another call. Where are we with Bridezilla now?’ They didn’t bother using the girl’s real name, Chelsea, any more. Everyone at the castle knew who Bridezilla was.
‘Well, two days ago I had a request to change the wedding cake. I’d already made all the fruit cakes for the three tiers, got them steeping in brandy, and now she wants a rainbow multi-layer sponge cake that she’s just seen on some fancy wedding makeover program. And, even better, get this, she wants to make a grand entrance by coming down the driveway on a unicorn.’
‘Unicorns and rainbows – sounds like some My Little Pony-inspired do.’
‘Possibly, I have no idea. But I’ve told her I’ll have to charge for both cakes, at least the un-iced version of the first. I can’t afford to waste all those ingredients, not to mention the time I’ve spent. Anyway, she seemed fine with that.’
‘More money than sense, that one … But how the hell are you going to get a unicorn? Does she know they aren’t actually real?’
‘Heaven knows. But apparently they had one at a celebrity wedding featured in Hello recently.’
‘Oh.’ Deana poured some water into the teapot for two. Ellie had brought across two slices of her signature Choffee Cake, anticipating the need for something sweet in a bid to boost them both.
‘We need to think of a plan.’
‘Oooh, plan for what?’ Derek, one of the castle tour guides, popped his grey-haired head around the door frame.
Malcolm, his partner in visitor-information and life, appeared beside him, sporting a yellow and red spotty bow tie. ‘It has to be Bridezilla.’
The tour guide team stood waiting for the response.
‘You got it in one,’ Ellie answered.
‘What are they up to now then, girls?’ Everyone in the castle had had some obscure request from the bride or her mother, and mostly not in the politest of forms.
‘They want a unicorn at the wedding,’ Deana stated.
‘You’re joking.’
‘I wish I was.’
‘A unicorn?’ Derek’s mouth stayed partially open, ‘Horned horse that doesn’t exist … has anyone actually told her that yet?’
‘I tried …’ Ellie’s tone was exasperated, ‘but if it’s good enough for Plush and Becks, then it’s good enough for her, apparently. And we’re here to make her dreams come true.’
‘Jeez.’ Derek stood with his arms folded.
Malcolm was grinning, or was it a grimace, Ellie couldn’t quite be sure. ‘Leave it to us. We like a challenge, don’t we, Derek? The Malcolm-Derek think tank is about to leap into action,’ he announced.
‘God help us,’ Deana muttered under her breath.
‘Well, have you got any better plans, Deana? Or a fairy godmother to hand?’ Malcolm was getting a bit flouncy.
A second of silence. Then Ellie gave a wry smile, Derek slipped her a grin, and the penny dropped with Malcolm on his final comment, as the group collapsed into laughter.
‘Well, it’ll be one thing less for me to think about, so thank you, Malcolm.’ Ellie gave a wry smile. ‘I’ve got a teashop to run and apparently a seven-layer rainbow cake to design and create. Hmm, it’ll be interesting to see what you two come up with.’
‘Hah, I can’t wait.’ Deana’s eyebrows were raised. ‘Cuppa, gents?’
‘No, but thanks, we need to go round and check all the visitor rooms are empty, before we shut up for the day. Don’t want any stragglers stranded in the drawing room, or such like.’ That had actually happened in the past.
‘Another time, Deana. Thank you,’ added Derek.
‘Right, that’s me off too,’ said Ellie, a yawn creeping over her lips. It had been a long day. ‘Better see how the tearooms are getting on, and then get ready to close up for the night.’
Evening settled over the castle, the long, lazy shadows of summer dusk finding their way through the leaded windows. Ellie liked the shift from the bustle of the daytime visitors, the steady stream of orders, the splutters of the coffee machine – she’d invested in a second-hand Gaggia coffee machine and loved it; it filled the teashop with a gorgeous fresh ground aroma. Doris, believe it or not, had turned into her barista! After a little encouragement and a few lessons, she became the queen of the coffee machine, no less. Though of course, no one could make a cup of coffee quite like her now. Irene was relegated to baking and tea duties, which she was quite happy with, to be fair. But now, with only the soothing noise of her radio, when the order row was empty, and she had a chance to take a slow breath, there was a sense of peace. Time to plan for tomorrow, and to look forward to getting back to their apartment and to Joe.
Ellie turned off all the appliance switches in the kitchen, bar the fridges and freezers. A routine she’d kept to since the dramatic and devastating fire that had ravaged her lovely teashop and kitchen at the end of her first year there. It had happened just when she had managed to turn the business around, and it all seemed like her dreams were finally coming true. The memories of that night still haunted her; how scared she had been when she realized Joe was still in there. How very different life might have been … If Joe hadn’t made it through … it still made her feel sick just thinking about it.
She could really feel for Lucy and Dan, and all that they were going through right now, having been so close to disaster herself.
Right then, everything seemed in order at the tearooms. She’d be down to make a batch of chocolate brownies first thing tomorrow. And, as she and Deana had nearly polished off the Choffee Cake, she’d better get the coffee and chocolate sponge layers for that made early on too. Irene would make the scones for her, and they’d need another four quiches made for lunches too. Then, she mustn’t forget there was the ordering to do. The list in her mind just seemed to build. But for now, she needed to turn off the lights, check the real fire in the teashop was settled to a gentle smoulder – it never quite went out being big enough to fit a couple of tree trunks in, and could happily sit a dozen people around its hearth.
She made her way across the courtyard and up the circular stone stairwell to the living quarters she shared with Joe. The only other person who lived in the castle was Joe’s father, Lord Henry, who preferred a pretty isolated existence, so all was quiet of an evening.
Every now and again, the reality of her surroundings took her breath away. The doves cooing in the battlements above her. The evening sun washing the cream sandstone walls with a blush of colour. A glimpse of the walled gardens neatly laid out with short box hedges, colourful blooms and herbaceous borders from a portcullis window. She wasn’t used to any of this, having been brought up in a red brick terraced house in a suburb of Newcastle-upon-Tyne. But more than this amazing castle with its centuries-old walls and gardens, it was going back to Joe every night that warmed her heart.
Three years of marriage hadn’t dimmed the love she felt, it had just cemented it. Like the stone walls of this castle, she felt they were built to weather the storms, to hold firm over time. At least, she hoped so.
He was already there in the apartment, when she opened the heavy wooden door from the stairwell landing.
‘Hi, gorgeous. Everything okay?’
‘Yes, not bad.’ Today had been a busy one, and she still felt a little vulnerable and emotional, what with Lucy and Dan’s terrible news yesterday, and of course her period coming on like that. She still felt the dull ache of it in her back, a reminder of her non-pregnancy. Oh well, onwards and upwards. She tried to smile, but wasn’t a good enough liar, obviously. Joe knew just what to do. He held his arms open to her with an understanding smile on his face.
But that just made her feel even more emotional. She didn’t know quite what was up with her, to be honest. A silent tear slipped from her eye as she went to him and pressed herself against his shirt, relaxing into his warm embrace, breathing in his aftershave smell that she knew so well. She stayed there in his arms. This was definitely one of the best parts of being married; having that other person to share things with, the bad times as well as the good. Things weren’t that bad, she knew that really, people were going through far worse in the world. It had just prodded an emotional raw-spot, that was all. But to get this comfort from Joe was just beautiful.
‘Love you, Mrs Ward,’ his warm, mellow voice spoke into her hair.
She pulled away very slightly to be able to look at him. ‘Love you, too, Mr Ward.’
‘Come on, I’ll get us some dinner started if you want? You look shattered.’
‘Aw, th-anks … I’m just tired.’
‘Well, after a day of working in the kitchens again, I’m sure you’ll want a break from the oven. But … you know the score, if it’s over to me then the repertoire is either pasta, frozen pizza or chili con carne.’
‘Pasta it is then.’ Something warm and comforting would be just fine, especially if it wasn’t cooked by her.
‘I’ll do my creamy chicken sauce one then. I popped out to the Co-op earlier, so I have all the ingredients to hand.’
He had a proud glint in his eye.
How sweet, he must have thought of that after their heart-to-heart on their walk up in the hills yesterday. She didn’t know quite what she had done to deserve him, but she was going to make the most of it.
‘So, put your feet up, madam. And I shall pour you a glass of vino.’ Joe slipped into an over-the-top Italian accent. ‘Rosso or Blanco.’
She had a feeling he was making up his own words, but it made her smile. ‘White would be lovely. Thanks.’
It was nearly time for Coronation Street, her favourite soap opera. So she did as she was told, sat down on the very cosy if worn sofa, slipped her shoes off, and curled up her legs. She was feeling a bit brighter already.
After a supper, eaten casually on their knees on the sofa, she leant in against him. She couldn’t wait for an early night and a bucket-load of sleep. But cuddling up for a little while longer here with Joe would be lovely too. She felt a glow inside, realising how much she loved this gorgeous man beside her. His long lean legs stretched out, his arm angled casually, yet protectively, around her. Heaven knows how Lucy must have felt when she had heard the awful news about her fiancé’s accident; Ellie remembered that sickening lurch in her own stomach like it was yesterday, when Joe had got trapped in that fire in the castle. How easily the things you loved could be taken away.