The Cosy Christmas Teashop: Cakes, castles and wedding bells – the perfect feel good romance. Caroline Roberts

The Cosy Christmas Teashop: Cakes, castles and wedding bells – the perfect feel good romance - Caroline  Roberts


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      With that Doris’s gaze shot pointedly across the room to a rather plump lady sat on her own in the corner, and gave a nod of her head. Ellie wished she hadn’t used that turn of phrase now.

      ‘Two slices of Victoria sponge and a cookie,’ the waitress mouthed, looking very like the comedian Les Dawson in his heyday.

      Oh dear, Ellie tried her best to ignore her. ‘Right, well I need to nip out to the village shop and get some more milk to tide us over ‘til the morning’s order comes in. We seem to have had a run of milkshakes and lattes today. Anybody need anything?’

      ‘No, thanks.’

      ‘All fine.’

      Ellie had her car keys in her pocket, so headed on out. ‘I’ll not be long.’

      She went out of the side delivery entrance, got into her trusty old Corsa car, started it up, and turned out through an old stone archway onto the main driveway. She slowed, as she spotted something up ahead that seemed to be blocking the road. A few tourists had stopped to take a look at whatever it was, and were gathering on the grass verge. Ellie approached cautiously, then had to divert off the driveway, pulling over on to the verge. A white pony seemed to be the cause of all the bother, doing a bit of a jig, its ears back and its rider hanging on for dear life. And, oh dear God, there was Malcolm tugging the poor thing along by a lead rein, like it was some kind of bellpull, with Derek trying to keep up alongside.

      Ellie got out of her car. ‘What on earth …?’

      It was then she spotted the long pointed appendage, that looked like some kind of Blue Peter-style, papier-mache probe, which was strapped onto the poor creatures noseband, sending it cross-eyed and into a bit of a pony-strop. No wonder it was tossing its head about irritably.

      The rider then leapt off the animal, probably just in time, as she was about to be bucked off by the looks of it. She snatched off her riding hat. Ellie recognized Lauren, one of the girls from the local village, who also helped as a waitress at the teashop.

      ‘There’s no way I’ll be riding that thing again,’ she shouted. ‘It’s bloody dangerous. It’s like Buckaroo up there. There’s no way you can put the bride on that thing. You’ll kill her.’

      Oh dear God, this must be Malcolm and Derek’s masterplan for the unicorn. In hindsight, maybe they hadn’t been the best couple to put in charge of this particular task.

      Malcolm was looking rather flustered, holding on to the pony’s rein for dear life, muttering, ‘Well, the bride insists she’s going to be riding the unicorn down the driveway.’

      It wasn’t just poor Patrick the Pony – Ellie recognized him now from the farm down the road – who was unhappy. This was never going to work. Ellie shook her head in despair. She might have laughed along with the tourists who were watching it all with much amusement, had she not realized how much Bridezilla was likely to flip out if she didn’t get her unicorn grand entrance. There were only five days left to sort out this mess.

       6

      It was the day before the big Bridezilla wedding and Ellie’s mind was on a running loop of to-do’s: check all the deliveries came in, boil and glaze the hams for the buffet, bake as much as she could in advance for the afternoon-tea goodies. Oh yes, there was a buffet lunch and an afternoon tea to prepare for, as well as the outside caterers coming in for the evening event. She also had to make sure all the guest rooms were ready and looking tip-top – especially the suite which the bride would be using to get ready in, and the bridesmaids’ rooms that were along the same corridor. Oh yes, the advance party of bride and bridesmaids were arriving today, and Ellie had to be prepared.

      The water began to run lukewarm and the shock of the cool water made her realize she’d been off in another zone. She’d better shampoo and condition quickly before the shower decided to totally run cold, which happened fairly regularly at the castle. Bloody hell, she hoped the hot water system would hold up for all the guests. Another concern to add to her list. Though the main guest wing had recently been given its own new boiler system, at last. Hopefully, it would all be fine.

      She turned off the shower, and as she went to step out, realized Joe was stood there. Oh wow, stark naked in fact, holding a towel ready for her. He smiled at her as she stepped into the warmth of the towel and his arms, where they engaged in a surprisingly sexy kiss for this time of the morning. He was very naked just on the other side of that towel. Shame they both had to go to work. She pulled back gently from the kiss, smiling back at him.

      He started towel drying her. She could feel his palms through the soft material moving over her body, loitering just a tad longer than was necessary on the breast area, which she had to admit was on the generous side. It used to annoy her that she was curvy and had trouble keeping the weight off of her hips and boobs, trying all sorts of faddy diets in her late teens and early twenties. But it never seemed to worry Joe, it was a positive bonus on his book. He often told her so.

      Looking at him then, she realized that in the rush of everyday life, sometimes she forgot just how gorgeous he really was, dark hair still morning-tousled, toned physique, lean, fairly tall – no, not forgotten that wasn’t quite it, but she just didn’t notice like she used to. But moments like this could still take her by surprise, remind her how very lucky they were to have found each other. To be able to love each other.

      She felt the nudge of an erection the other side of the towel, pressing low against her tummy, stirring something deep within her.

      But there really was so much to do. A Bridezilla wedding to start cooking for, as well as all her Friday teashop routines. Damn. ‘Later … sorry, Joe. I really have tons to do.’

      ‘Such a shame. But I’ll take the later as a promise.’

      She grinned at him. It was one promise she’d be more than happy to keep later on that evening. And the thought of it would keep them both smiling through what was bound to be a long day.

      ‘They’re here!’ Malcolm announced, poking his head around the teashop kitchen door. He’d been on lookout duty.

      And so, the wedding weekend was about to begin. At least she’d got through all the lunch orders before Bridezilla and co arrived. Ellie quickly took off her apron, and ran from the teashop, across the courtyard, to the main castle entrance. She was just in time. A huge dark blacked-out windowed limousine pulled up at the bottom of the castle steps, followed by the biggest black stretch-Hummer vehicle she had ever seen. She could almost imagine the president of the USA stepping out from there, with his team of bodyguards.

      But instead it was something far more intimidating. Platinum-blonde long curls and a short, rounded body, shrieking, ‘Get me the hell out of here. I feel car sick after all those bloody winding lanes.’

      The limousine driver, who was now holding open the rear door of the vehicle for her ladyship, plus her mother, looked rather frazzled. Ellie smiled sympathetically across at him. That must have been some journey.

      The bride-to-be and her mother were in the first vehicle, whilst out from the Hummer poured nine bridesmaids, who were stretching out their rather stiff joints, and then leaning back in to gather up a festoon of huge gowns, wrapped in special carriers. The last dress out was immense, layer upon layer of white taffeta and silk was apparent through its clear cover. It took two of the girls to carry it. No wonder the bridesmaids had been crammed in. The dresses would have filled the back of the vehicle alone.

      Malcolm offered to help manoeuvre the gown into the castle, after phoning Derek quickly for backup.

      Ellie smiled broadly at the arriving party, looking far more confident than she felt, ‘Welcome Chelsea, everyone, to your wedding at Claverham Castle.’

      ‘We need prosecco!’

      It was 6 p.m., that same Friday evening. The


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