think she was that serious about him.’
‘You don’t like him very much, do you?’
‘I don’t really know him,’ said Molly with affected coolness.
‘Molly?’ Nick looked sceptical.
‘Well, we’ve only seen him a couple of times, haven’t we? He just doesn’t seem Jess’s type at all.’
‘Maybe he’s her grown-up choice – like there’s a moment you stop going for gooey puddings and take the cheese and biscuits or start thinking that broccoli and broad beans are really nice?’
Molly raised her eyebrows. ‘So Max is Jess’s pick from the adult menu?’
‘Just a thought.’
Molly wasn’t convinced. ‘I suppose at least it means that Jessie is over Glenn.’
‘The one who went off to America?’
‘Broke her heart. I was really worried that after he went she might get back with Will – you remember the one who used to shred beer mats and tissues?’
‘Or go to Goa with Beano?’ said Nick.
‘Oh God, I’d forgotten about that. Beano is lovely though. He always reminds me of a daddy-longlegs; he’s so skinny and gangly.’
‘And can drink, smoke and snort his way through life with an enthusiasm that startled even the most robust of us. So, when’s Jess moving in with Max and do we need to hire a van?’
‘Apparently not, they’re waiting until after they’re married to move in together.’
‘A bit Victorian, isn’t it?’ said Nick.
‘Max is having his place redecorated, but the lease is up on the cottage Jess’s renting so she’s got to find somewhere. Mr Petrovsky, her landlord, is really nice, but he needs her to move out so that he can move his daughter and her husband and their new baby in.’ Molly sat up. ‘You don’t think that’s why Jess is marrying Max, do you? To get a house?’
‘Don’t be silly; she’s got loads of friends and places to stay if she needed to. She could move back here for a few weeks until she found somewhere if she wanted to.’
‘I already told her that.’ Molly settled back in the bath. ‘Married,’ she murmured after a few seconds. ‘It sounds such a big thing for Jess to be doing.’
Nick peered at her. ‘Before you say anything we’re not getting married, all right? So don’t ask.’
‘Oh, spoilsport,’ Molly teased. ‘I was thinking we could maybe have a double wedding. Me and you, Jessica and Max.’
‘I can’t see Jess wearing that one, can you?’
Molly laughed. ‘No, me neither, although all my friends think it’s high time you made a respectable woman of me.’
‘It’d take a lot more than getting married,’ Nick said. ‘And besides I like what we’ve got. If it ain’t broke don’t fix it, is what I say.’
‘They want to buy hats.’
‘Uh-huh, and now that Jess is getting married they’ll have their chance.’
‘You’re all heart,’ said Molly. She took another sip of wine and slipped back amongst the bubbles.
‘So what are you thinking now?’
‘Here’s to marriage.’
Nick winced and topped up his glass. ‘Here’s to spending the rest of my life living in sin with you.’
Molly lifted her eyebrows. He grinned and so Molly relented. ‘Okay, you win. I’ll drink to that,’ she conceded, lifting her glass. ‘Although if we are ever going to get married can we do it before I look like ET in the wedding photos?’
It was Nick’s turn to lift his eyebrows. He opened his mouth to speak but Molly cut him short. ‘Don’t you dare say it,’ she said.
Nick, still grinning, sunk down beneath the water like a great hairy whale.
Meanwhile in the sitting room of Jess’s cottage, Max was finishing off the last of the Singapore noodles and nodding as Jess came to the end of the edited highlights of eight solid hours of planning and a lifetime’s worth of imagining what her wedding day might be like.
‘So, what do you think?’ she said breathlessly. ‘Assuming we pass on the radio station’s offer of following us around every step of the way, and my dad arm-wrestling everyone for discount.’
‘What’s Vanguard Hall like?’
Jess smiled. ‘Absolutely lovely. Really quirky and magical. Me and mum have been there loads of times to look round the gardens. It would be perfect – you’ll love it.’
Max tipped his head, suggesting to Jess that he wanted to hear more.
‘It’s near Holt and the estate is owned by a guy called Bert, who’s part eco-warrior and part crusty old aristo. There’s the farm, which is huge, and then the main house, which is this weird Gothic pile with all sorts of odds and ends tacked on, and they’ve got greenhouses, a fantastic walled garden – the farm is organic – and there’s this amazing old Tythe Barn which Bert says we can have for the reception. They use it as a tearoom in the summer – it’s got this spectacular beamed roof. The whole place is like something off a picture postcard. Jack’s worked there as a gardener since he left horticultural college. He’s got this tiny little cottage in the grounds that looks like something out of Hansel and Gretel.
And they’ve got the most fabulous gardens designed by Bertie’s wife Freya, a bluebell wood, a lake and loads of deer and they’ve got sculptures in the woods that Freya and her friends made – they are amazing, magical. Bert opens it up to the public two or three weekends a year for charity. It will make the most perfect place for a winter wedding. Trust me, you’ll love it. And we need to get moving. I’ve got a list.’ Jess leaned over the side of the sofa and pulled out a notebook. ‘We haven’t got that long to sort it all out.’
Max pulled a face. ‘I’m not really sure about all this dippy-hippy business.’
Jess stared at him and laughed. ‘What dippy-hippy business?’
‘Well, the whole Tythe Barn, bluebell wood, humanist wedding thing. I thought we’d just have a proper traditional church wedding.’
‘Max, you’re divorced and I’m an atheist.’
Max looked perplexed. ‘And?’
‘And so the best we could probably hope for is a church blessing and I’m not sure how likely that is when I tell the vicar I don’t believe in God.’
‘You could always lie.’
Jess stared at him, trying to work out whether or not he was joking.
‘I mean, what would it matter?’ Max continued. ‘Surely not everyone who has a church wedding is a regular churchgoer or a devout Christian? And in your case God can’t write it all down in a big book and use it against you later, because you don’t believe in him.’
‘And you do?’ snapped Jess.
‘Well no, not really, I believe in something, but my parents –’ he began.
‘I am not lying on our wedding day. And at a humanist wedding we would still have vows and make promises and we can choose readings and music – it’s just more personal. We help to write them.’
Max looked even more sceptical.
‘All right, how about we just go for a straight registry office do?’
Max shook his head. ‘I don’t think so, do you? And I also think we ought to think very carefully before we decide against the idea of getting the