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‘Thanks Poppy,’ I laugh, ‘I half expected that to be a cupcake, not fizz.’ Poppy has a tiny kitchen on the top floor here, and she rushes around the shop with plates of goodies, looking for volunteers to sample her baking. Although she’s spent a lot more time this last year working at the local wedding venue at Daisy Hill Farm in Rose Hill, especially since she’s been going out with the boss there.

‘How’s Rafe?’ I ask. He’s the farmer in question, and every bit as lovely as Poppy deserves.

She grins. ‘Hungry as ever, and very busy.’

Given the flurry of romances at Brides by the Sea lately, you’d think someone had been scattering the cupid dust around. First there was Sam who does the dress fittings and alterations, whose wedding party we’re heading for this evening. The guy she’s marrying is called Sam too, so they’re known as Sam squared. Then Poppy and Rafe finally got together just before Christmas. And Sera, the dress designer, who has her studio above the shop, and a room dedicated to her creations, bumped into the love of her life at her sister’s Christmas wedding, and got her happy ever after moment too.

As I sink onto my favourite Mother of the Bride Louis Quatorze arm chair, Jess drops the chocolate basket on my knee. Which might be something she regrets later when I’ve eaten them all. Then, as she bends down to fiddle with the radio, I suddenly get it.

‘Brides by the Sea … You’re singing along to your very own jingle Jess!’ How could I have forgotten? ‘It’s the Pirate Radio Valentine’s promotion!’

Reading between the lines, Jess was sweet-talked by a cocoa-voiced guy in ad sales. She may have gone all ironic with her shop displays, but when it comes to business opportunities and husky voices she’s right on the ball. When the ad sales guy pointed out that every Valentine’s romance in Cornwall could end with a bride shopping at Brides by the Sea, Jess agreed to run ads all week. She also had the inspired idea of giving away wedding bouquets and a money-off-the-dress voucher for every bride who is proposed to live on Pirate Radio today.

‘We’re waiting for a little surprise before we head off to the party.’ Jess wiggles her eyebrows at Poppy and me as she turns up the volume on the radio.

‘So have there been many on-air proposals yet?’ I ask. Personally, I can’t think of anything worse. When Thom went down on one knee we were on the empty beach in St Aidan in winter. A rogue wave crashed onto him, and he almost dropped the ring. We both laughed a lot at the time, but looking back that cold water soaking was pretty much a metaphor for where we were heading.

‘We’ve had live proposals from all across the county. They’ve got roving reporters, and we’re trending on Twitter.’ Jess’s smile is close to ecstatic. ‘Someone popped the question on a yacht in Falmouth, the next was on a tandem on the Camel Trail, and someone else took the plunge in a fishing boat off Land’s End.’ No wonder she’s sounding happy, with so many potential wedding dress sales here. ‘And I’m pretty sure the next place the Pirate Radio reporters will be going is the fire station …’ Jess reins in her smile, and gives me one of her significant nods.

‘Really?’ Another friend of ours from Rose Hill is going out with a fireman. ‘Is it Immie?’ If I’m sounding surprised, it’s only because until last summer you’d have said gruff, straight-talking Immie was the last person who’d ever get married.

Poppy’s voice is a squeak as she nods. ‘It’s top secret, but Chas is proposing. Immie’s going to pick him up for Sam’s wedding party, but he’s waiting with his ring. It should be any minute now.’

What was I saying about cupid dust? Immie works with Poppy, and looks after the holiday cottages at Daisy Hill Farm. I’ve known them forever because we all grew up in Rose Hill village. And Chas is Immie’s friendly fireman, who she got to know when his Daisy Hill Farm wedding went all kinds of wrong last summer. Except now things have worked out fine, because he’s about to try again. With Immie this time.

‘Okay, so are we ready for our next Pirate Radio Valentine’s proposal?’ As the DJ’s voice cuts in, we all lean towards the radio. ‘And we’re going across to Barbara and David in the biome at the Eden Project …’

Poppy lets out a wail. ‘What happened to Chas and Immie?’

Jess shushes her. ‘Don’t worry, they must be on next.’

‘Barbara and David are our super sixties, a couple of silver surfers who met on-line …’ The DJ sounds like he’s loving the novelty. ‘Hello Barbara …’

As Jess’s frown spreads across her forehead, she drops onto the edge of the chaise longue. ‘Not being ageist, but I’m not sure we’ll pick up a dress order from this one.’

Of all of us, Jess should be most in tune with the older mindset, given she’s closer to fifty than twenty. As for me, I’m sizing up the truffles on my knee, deciding which one to go for next. In the end, I go for one that’s been rolled in desiccated coconut. It’s half way into my mouth, when a peel of laughter comes out of the radio, and stops me dead.

First I go icy cold, then a split second later I break out in a sweat.

The only Barbara I ever met with a laugh like that is my mum. Although obviously it can’t be her, because my mum definitely doesn’t date. Talking of my mum, growing up, the only thing that saved me was my sensible, down to earth dad. And I miss him like mad. Although from her side it’s not all roses either. I was apparently ‘this’ close to becoming the ‘yummy mummy’ she wanted me to be when I married Thom. Me messing up on that one was a sackable offence.

Then Barbara chimes in on the radio. ‘The Eden Centre’s where we had our first date …’ and I almost drop the chocolate basket because from those cut-glass vowels, this could be my mum’s twin. It isn’t as if this Barbara’s even getting the name of the place right. Which is another thing that ties in horribly, because Mum does that all the time.

‘Omigod, are you thinking what I am?’ My eyes lock onto Poppy and Jess’s. It suddenly occurs to me that I did once meet a David on the stairs at my mum’s house, changing a light bulb. ‘It can’t be my mother …?’ Can it?

Poppy’s face is scrunched in confusion. ‘I didn’t know your mum had a boyfriend?’

‘Me neither.’ I’m shaking my head and my stomach’s turned to stone. ‘But, shit, if she’s on Pirate Radio getting proposed to, she must have.’

Barbara – or rather my mum – sounds even more up-beat than usual.

‘I can’t possibly imagine why David’s brought me to the beautiful Mediterranean dome … on Valentine’s Day …’ Her voice is loud, yet breathy. Even on the radio, I can tell she’s ready to burst. Although you can excuse her for being excited. It’s completely obvious she knows what’s about to happen.

Poppy’s hand flies over her open mouth. ‘Oh shit, it really is her, Lily.’ As she listens her puzzled expression softens. ‘It’s like something off Married at First Sight. I can’t believe she’s about to get proposed to.’

‘Waaaaaaaaa‌aaaaaaaahhhhh.’ I jam my hands over my ears, because this is so many kinds of wrong. I don’t want to hear someone asking my mum to marry them. My mum doesn’t want to get married, she isn’t even over my dad dying yet. Somewhere along the line my thoughts start rushing out of my mouth. ‘And why the hell are they at the Eden Project? My mum’s the least green person on the planet. She hates gardening, she never recycles. As far as she’s concerned ecology’s a virus that gives you the runs. Please tell me this isn’t real …’

Poppy tugs at my sleeve. ‘It’s over now, you can unblock your ears.’

I shut my eyes tightly and tell myself to breathe. ‘How did he sound?’ My voice is a croak.

Poppy’s treading carefully here. ‘Nervous …’

I open my eyes a crack. ‘She said “yes” didn’t she?’ As if she’d have said anything else.

Poppy nods, although given the background clapping is deafening, I hardly need ask. There’s a few more whoops from the radio, then my mum’s coming through again, loud and clear.

‘A huge thank you to Pirate Radio and everyone here at Eden Valley. David and I are completely delighted, we’ll be having a summer wedding, and I promise we’ll be doing all our shopping at Brides by the Sea …’

I’m biting back my pangs at how word perfect she is.

‘A summer wedding?’ This is typical Jess, latching on to the practicalities. ‘They’ll need to get a move on to pull that one off.’

‘Unbelievable. Completely unbelievable.’ It comes out sounding a lot meaner than I intend, but if your mum springs something like this on you, it’s hard not to feel left out.

Poppy raises her eyebrows, and sighs. ‘Give yourself time, Lily, it might not seem so bad when you’re used to it.’

I know Poppy’s only being helpful. But getting used to it is something else.

‘I’m very happy for her.’ I force out the words, even though I’m not sure I am. Actually, I don’t know what to think.

Jess is tugging at her scarf. ‘This is definitely a wake-up call. We need to consider older brides. I can’t think how we’ve overlooked them before.’ Then she leaps up, grabs the prosecco bottle, fills my glass to overflowing, and hands it back to me. ‘Drink that, it’ll help with the shock. I’ll go and get the gin.’

As I inhale a huge slug of fizz, the DJ’s working the moment for all he’s worth. ‘So Barbara and David, what’s next for you?’

And my mum’s off again. Gushing doesn’t begin to cover it. ‘All the beautiful flowers in the dome here remind me that I was offered a free bouquet, but my daughter will be growing the flowers for mine, so any one else wanting lovely wedding flowers should get in touch too, she’ll have plenty for everyone …’

What? I can’t believe what I’m hearing. If she carries on like this they’ll have to fade her out. Which luckily for me, they do. I’ve never been more relieved to reach an ad break. As for which daughter is going to grow her wedding flowers, it isn’t like she’s got another. I’m her only one.

And almost as if the last three minutes never happened, we’re back with the maddeningly up-beat DJ, who obviously has no idea his bloody radio station just turned my whole world upside down.

‘And we’re moving on with T-rex and Hot Love. Because our next Pirate Radio proposal will be coming from … the fire station in St Aidan.’

‘Yay! Go Immie.’ Poppy whoops, and punches the air. But by the time she meets my eye, her worried look’s back. ‘At least Chas let us in on this. One unexpected proposal in a day is quite enough for anyone.’

She’s right about that. I’m not sure I’ll ever be able to face a coconut truffle again. But what do they say about every cloud? The engagement excitement might eclipse the fact that my own life is in free fall. And after hearing my mother agree to marry a boyfriend I didn’t know existed, Sam’s Valentine’s wedding party is going to be a piece of cake.

Chapter 2 (#ulink_6f87025a-4038-5b15-b85d-bbb44125bdcb)