Into his arms. . .
‘Neither. I’m stuck here while Mum is burning off my hair!’
‘She’s been moaning all morning!’ Ruby called out. Merrin pulled a wide-eyed expression of exasperation at her friend, who winked, well schooled in keeping the peace between the two sisters, who were both her best friends.
‘One little tiny bit of hair, that’s all! Honestly, no one’ll notice a crispy end or two.’ Her mum sounded defensive.
‘Oh, I don’t know, Mrs K, I reckon Loretta might; she has an eye for such detail. “Don’t you simply love the early golden glow of summer, rising up from the sea. . .”’ Bella had the impression nailed.
Ruby and Bella laughed, but Merrin kept her face straight. It used to be funny, Bella’s ability to mimic anyone, but Loretta was Digby’s mother and she felt the least she could do was not encourage her.
The house was starting to buzz with activity. Not that the last few days had been calm: her dad had cleaned all the windows of the cottage, as instructed, and had jet-washed the cobbles. Presents had arrived, which her mother had piled up into an elaborate display in the corner, and Merrin had watched surreptitiously from behind her teacup as her sister shook the packages, holding them at arm’s length, gauging their weight to guess at their value. She even rattled envelopes against her ear, trying to detect the tell-tale shift of a cheque or a banknote. It had made Merrin laugh. She couldn’t give a fig about gifts and suchlike, all she wanted was to be married to Digby. It felt like days since she’d last seen him as, in keeping with tradition, they had agreed not to see each other the night before the big day. So the previous afternoon they had kissed like it might be their last time, and in truth she loved the promise in their passion.
Heather wiped her hands down her striped nightshirt, then, yanking Merrin’s head upright, she gathered the two sides of her hair.
‘So, Merry, which is it to be, sides up or sides down?’ Her mother stood tall, repeatedly pulling the hair up into a knot at the back of her head and then letting it fall.
‘I don’t know, either. You choose.’
Her mother tutted. ‘You can’t say either; they are entirely different looks!’ Once again she pulled her younger daughter’s hair into shape. ‘What do you think, girls?’
‘Up,’ Ruby shouted.
‘No, down, hide as much of her mug as possible.’ Bella laughed and the girls high-fived.
‘You’re not helping!’ Her mum wiped her forehead and took a breath; she looked close to tears.
‘Mum, it’s not worth fretting over; it’s only hair, who cares?’
‘Who cares?’ she barked. ‘I do, and you certainly should! It is these small things that will make a difference. Look at Cousin Peter’s wedding: there was Uncle Peter, a managing director, no less, and I know I’ve already told you that when Aunty Margaret needed a hysterectomy, she had it done on Bupa.’
‘You have!’ Bella and Ruby chorused, snickering.
Undeterred, Mrs Kellow continued, ‘Money to spare they’ve got, but no one thinks about the amazing riverside venue or the pre-dinner canapés at Peter’s wedding, which I know for a fact cost twenty-nine pounds a head. No, if they think about it at all, the only thing they picture is Aunty Margaret’s furry fascinator!’
Merrin pinched her lips together tightly, a trick she employed to stop inappropriate comments popping out of her mouth. It worked. Ruby and Bella were not so practised and sprayed their laughter into the room as they clung to each other, wheezing the words ‘furry fascinator!’
‘Honestly, Mum, no one will care about whether I have sides up or down. I promise you.’
‘I need you to care about these things!’ Her mother was pleading now.
‘But I don’t, not really. I don’t care so much about the wedding. I just want to be married.’
‘For the love of God!’ Her mum seemed to fold, and slumped in the old leather wing-back chair by the side of the range. ‘I’m getting one of my headaches.’
‘Merry’s right, Mrs K, you shouldn’t worry. Why don’t you call your sister and get her to wear that furry fascinator, then that’ll be the talk of the town and no one will give a rat’s arse about Merrin’s hair?’
Heather Kellow pushed her thumbs into her eyes, as if to release some unseen pressure, and sighed. ‘I’m trying very hard to make everything perfect for her big day. That’s all.’
Merrin sat up straight. ‘I wonder why it’s called a “big” day? And not a “medium” or a “little” day? I mean, in the scheme of things, compared to what you might go through or achieve in your life, it may turn out to be rather insignificant.’
Her mum gripped the worn arms of the chair and sat up a little. ‘Rather insignificant? It’s your wedding day! And in a few hours, you shall be getting married, and I’m finding it difficult, Merrin Mercy, to keep my patience. Your dad and I have been working for months to give you the day you deserve, the day that we have always dreamt of for you! And I don’t want the likes of Loretta Mortimer and her lot looking down her nose because I’ve got your hair wrong or because your dad’s got his Truro City tie on!’
‘I just don’t see why it all matters!’ She spoke the truth. The sound of her mum catching her breath, a prelude to tears, sent the room silent. Ruby and Merrin exchanged an awkward look, allies rather than competitors at that moment.
‘What have I done now?’