Читать книгу The Little Wedding Shop by the Sea - Jane Linfoot - Страница 21

I’m not sure this hot desking idea of Rafe’s is working. As I walk into the farm office the desk is stacked so high with Farming magazines, I can barely see the man himself behind them.

‘What are you doing here?’ Rafe looks up from the letter he’s reading, making what sounds more like a complaint than a welcome.

‘Delivery in the next village,’ I explain. Taking in his glazed stare, on balance I decide not to tell him about the three tier silver-wedding cake I’ve been slaving over. Or that it’s left my fingers tingling from hours of squeezing icing out of piping bags.

‘I thought I’d pop in and put some text together for the website as I was passing.’ Good thing I have too, another day out of the office and I get the feeling I might have been re-located into the yard.

Rafe carries on flicking through the pages of the letter he’s reading. It’s only as he reaches behind the stack of magazines for a pen that a flash of russet coloured feathers makes me gasp.

‘Omigod, is that Henrietta sitting on the bloody desk?’ I hear myself shrieking.

He looks up slowly, with a pained expression. ‘Sorry, do you have a problem with that?’ It’s not an apologetic kind of sorry. It’s more the ‘don’t have a clue what you’re going on about’ kind of sorry.

‘Livestock in the office.’ It’s certainly on my list of issues to tackle this week, I just wasn’t fully prepared to do it right now. ‘It just isn’t right.’ Even I know that was lame, so I blurt out the next thing that comes into my head. ‘Anyway, shouldn’t you be out milking cows or something?’ I’m surprised how fast I’m learning to talk like a farm person. ‘For a farmer you spend a remarkable amount of time indoors.’

He gives an exasperated sigh and slams the letter down on the desk. ‘Haven’t you got a wedding to go to?’ then with a bad tempered snarl, he scoops up Henrietta. Two flaps later he deposits her on top of the filing cabinet, then turns to me with a sneer. ‘Happy now?’

As the letter hits the table, I glimpse the edge of a bank logo. No doubt he’s been counting up his millions again. I might have been happier if he’d opened the door and put the hen outside. I’m trying to think of a stinging verbal comeback that covers health and safety, office tidiness, bad temper in the work place, and male territoriality when my phone beeps.

I momentarily suspend the argument, to open a text from Cate.

Immie and I both free 2nite. Bring Rafe to Jaggers for 7. Operation #HappyFarmer is live! ;) xx

Damn. If the text had come five minutes earlier, I’d have been less snarky. Although looking at Rafe’s stormy frown, even a Strawberry Daiquiri wouldn’t sweeten that to happy. As for getting him to Jaggers, I’m thinking of snowballs in hell. Not a chance. My phone beeps. Cate again.

This has taken a LOT of organising, it’s the only way forward for an easy year for ALL of us!!! Think of my wedding, get Rafe here ASAP! DO NOT BAIL ON ME!!! ;) xx

So like Cate to send a second message, just to be sure. If you ask me, she’s been on too many motivational courses. I grit my teeth, which is exactly what she meant me to do. As for her wedding, it’s come from nowhere, and now it’s ruling my life. Somehow I’ve got to do this, I just don’t know how. It’s pointless making comparisons, but if Rafe had even a tenth of Jules’ charm and positivity, this would be a walk over. And suddenly, remembering Jules, I have a light bulb moment. Jules didn’t have any problem making Rafe do what he wanted. Maybe I need to be more like him?