Sophie Pembroke - Summer Of Love

Lily shrugged. ‘No idea. I only stopped by to pick up some of my old stuff. Mum barely managed a hello before she shoved me back out of the door. Said she didn’t have time tonight.’

‘Weird.’

‘Very,’ Lily agreed.

What on earth could Evelyn be up to that she didn’t want her daughter to find out about? Cora loved a good mystery, and the idea of Evelyn Thomas having a secret was a particularly juicy one.

‘Maybe she had a hot date,’ Cora said, making Lily laugh.

‘Can you imagine?’ She shook her head. ‘I’m more worried that she’s suddenly developed an addiction to an online psychic or something.’

Cora giggled. ‘Maybe she is an online psychic. Something to bring in a little extra cash…’

The mental image of the immaculately dressed Evelyn Thomas wrapping a tie-dye scarf over her perfectly styled hair, and wrapping a skirt with bells over her suit had Lily spluttering wine over Cora’s sofa.

‘Why do you still have stuff at your mum’s anyway?’ Cora asked when Lily had regained some measure of composure.

Lily shrugged. ‘Just do. Edward doesn’t like a lot of clutter around the cottage. And I have –’

‘A lot of clutter,’ Cora finished. ‘I remember. Your room there was an absolute tip.’ Cora had taken to tidying it up a bit when Lily wasn’t looking. She still had no idea how Lily had ever found anything in there.

‘My studio still is, when I’m deep into a new project,’

Cora grinned. ‘Doesn’t surprise me.’

The front door crashed open, as Rhys forgot about the umbrella stand behind the door again. Cora jumped to her feet to welcome him home and instruct him to lay the table.

‘Let me just get changed first,’ he said, and Cora bit down a feeling of irritation. Why couldn’t he stay in his suit for dinner? So much more appropriate when they had guests than jeans and a T-shirt. Even if the guest was only Lily.

‘So, how were your days?’ Rhys asked later, spearing a mouthful of salmon and asparagus.

‘Busy,’ Cora said. ‘I finalised the timings with the car company, proofread the orders of service – eight errors, by the way – and spoke with the seamstress about adding some little satin flowers to the younger bridesmaid’s shoes. Oh, and I’ve spoken with the florist about the table centrepieces, but I’m still not a hundred percent sure about the foliage. I might get her to make up some more samples before I commit.’

‘Is it that important?’ Rhys barely looked up as he spoke. ‘I mean, they’re just flowers.’

‘They’re what our guests will be looking at for the entire meal,’ Cora said. ‘They’re important.’

Rhys gave her a grin. ‘Well, I know I’ll only have eyes for you.’

Cora couldn’t help but smile back. He might not have much interest in the details of their wedding, but at least he could be counted on to say the right thing, now and then.

‘What about you, Lily?’ Rhys turned to their guest, topping up her wine glass again.

Lily shrugged. ‘Same old. Oh, but I did have lunch with Alex.’

‘My Alex?’ Cora frowned. ‘What was he doing up at the Mill?’

Lily’s gaze darted away, the way it always did when she was about to lie. But about what? ‘Just revisiting old haunts, I guess,’ she said. Which would have been a perfectly reasonable reason, if Cora hadn’t known she was lying.

‘How’s he settling in?’ Rhys asked.

Lily grinned. ‘Really well, I think. Seems to have his whole life planned out here.’

Well, if he had, he hadn’t told his own cousin much about it. Although he seemed perfectly happy spilling to her best friend.

‘And how’s Edward?’ Cora asked. Maybe Lily needed the reminder of the most important man in her life.

But Lily just shrugged. ‘Okay, I guess. To be honest, he’s been working so much I haven’t seen much of him, really.’

She was frowning. Frowning and looking away again. Cora felt something cold settle in her chest. ‘Any further along with the wedding planning?’

Lily reached for her wine. ‘Not really. Edward’s talking about the golf club for the reception.’

Well, it wouldn’t be Cora’s choice, but it was a perfectly serviceable venue. ‘I suppose it’s pretty short notice now. For you to get married this summer, I mean.’ Because that was what they’d agreed. That was the plan. The two of them, both marrying the loves of their lives, starting their futures together, this summer.

‘I guess.’

‘You really should get a date confirmed, you know,’ Cora went on. ‘Even for a small wedding, you’re going to need the time to get it all sorted out. Maybe you could look at early autumn.’ That wouldn’t be so bad. She and Rhys would be back from their honeymoon, then, ready to pitch in and help get everything ready. Early autumn could work.

Lily gave her a very small, very tired smile. ‘You’re starting to sound like Edward. Or my mother.’

Lily had just compared her to Evelyn Thomas. Something was very, very wrong here.

But before Cora could find a response, Rhys clapped his hands together, grabbed the wine and said, ‘That’s it. No more wedding talk tonight. Let’s try and remember what we used to talk about before we got engaged.’

As Lily and Rhys started chatting about some new TV programme, Cora prodded at the remains of her salmon and thought about the only other time she and Lily hadn’t done things together, and how wrong that had gone.

She had to get Lily to set a date.

* * * *

Alex didn’t believe in wasting time. He’d promised Max a proper portfolio in less than a week’s time, so he’d better get on with compiling one. Pushing Gareth’s weirdness out of his mind, he headed home to his ramshackle cottage to dig out his equipment and student shots. And, two hours later, felt rather less enthusiastic about the whole endeavour.

No, he told himself, even as he opened a cold beer from his otherwise empty fridge. He’d come home to Felinfach to start a new life, and the photography was a big part of that. So he would bloody well make it work, one way or another.

Slumping back onto his sofa, he flicked through the photos again. Not good enough. Oh, they were fine for student work, and his teacher had loved them, but they weren’t going to cut it in the professional arena. He needed proper shots he could sell as demonstrations of his talent. He’d better hope the inhabitants of the Mill were willing to take him up on his offer of free publicity shots.

He slumped back against the cushions, wondering what had possessed him to buy such a huge sofa. It was practically the only piece of furniture he had bought since he arrived, mostly making do with his parents’ old stuff, and it dominated the lounge. He’d ordered it to be delivered the day he moved in, and it was a million miles away from the smart leather armchairs he’d left behind in his flat in London. Maybe he’d been imagining snuggling up with his prospective bride-to-be, or at least bringing someone home. So far, the only girl he’d spent any time at all with was Lily.

Which brought him back to tomorrow again.

Why was he resisting thinking about it? She was an old family friend, and a business opportunity. And if she’d glowed across the table at lunch, talking about her dreams and everything she and Max had achieved with the Mill, and how much more they wanted to do… Well, it didn’t matter. Because she was engaged to another man, and Alex took that sort of thing seriously. Very seriously.

No, this was a purely professional arrangement, he told himself, draining the last of his beer. And he was still telling himself that the following morning when he entered the wrought iron gates of the Mill. Right up until he walked into Tiger Lily and saw Lily’s eyes as she looked up to greet him. Red-rimmed and heavy-lidded, she obviously hadn’t slept. And, from his limited experience with such things, he was pretty sure she’d been crying.