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21 DAVID

24 Days Until the Wedding

David had never been able to resist one of Angie’s cakes, unless it involved beetroot or courgettes, and today was no exception. After politely refusing a coffee, carrot and raspberry loaf (not that offensive, David just hated carrots) he was served a bowl of jam roly-poly with custard. He didn’t know if he’d ever had a more perfect morning.

‘So why did you want to meet?’ Angie said. ‘It’s unlike you to want to discuss business so seriously.’

‘Well it’s hardly that serious,’ David said, brushing crumbs off his lap as he ate. ‘Not with us. I just wondered a few things, like how you went about making sure you stay afloat, with the prices of everything going up. At Lilies, we did so well to modernize, and we have the reasons to get people inside, but recently I’ve noticed a dip in the floristry side of things, and there’s not much more we can try.’

‘Why are you talking like that, all defeated?’ Angie asked. ‘You’re good, David. You’ve been going for ten years. You just gotta keep changing, I reckon. Keep adding stuff. Always keep it fresh, and different.’

As Angie said it, David could feel in the back of his throat the pastry range Angie had had for a few weeks one autumn, the matcha custard tart that had smelt and tasted like snot.

‘But what if those things … don’t work out?’

‘Then you try the next thing! Like when I finally got rid of courgette cake – it just didn’t sell.’ David smiled. He hadn’t seen it – or smelt it – in a long time. ‘If you weren’t doing anything, then I reckon you’d have a problem, but you’ve done new things before. You’re creative.’

‘You can’t just assume all gay people are creative,’ David said. ‘You sound like someone describing a gay man in the Eighties: “ ooh he’s creative …”’

‘Shut up you,’ she said, throwing a crumb at him. ‘Tell me what you’re doing, and if it’s working.’

‘I’ve got a plan for a subscription service, you know, pay thirty pounds a month for a different bouquet delivered to your door. Offering twenty per cent off the first month to customers in the shop. They can also collect it, if they’d prefer.’

‘That’s good,’ she said. ‘That might work.’

‘Maybe,’ he said. ‘I’ve been doing the seasonal bouquets for ages as well, around times of the year – Christmas, Easter, Pride month. They do okay. I could do with being in a few more places, finding people who don’t walk past the shop. I wonder if anywhere else would stock us, like we do with you.’

‘That’s a great idea,’ Angie said. ‘Why don’t you try to get into some of the wedding shows? You could ask on that group you asked me to join. I’m sure someone in there would know.’

‘Thanks, Angie,’ he said. ‘That’s a good idea. I’ll have examples from Meg and Hannah’s. Then I’ve got Benji from the youth group getting us on social media; that’s the other big thing.’

‘That’s good. David, you’re doing loads.’ Angie put her elbows on the table. ‘And changes don’t translate to cash overnight. How is Benji? He seemed like a good kid the other day when I met him.’

‘He is,’ David said. ‘He’s doing okay, I think. I keep getting told the number of followers is still going up. A woman came in and said her daughter had showed her the shop’s TikTok page, so that’s why she came in, but then she didn’t buy anything. He also keeps telling me about something called Snapchat but I’ve only just got my head around all the others …’

‘So modern, David, moving with the times, you talking about followers. Do you even know what WhatsApp is?’

‘Why is everybody acting like I was born during the war? My hair is only slightly grey! Are you on social media?’ David asked, aghast. ‘Why did nobody tell me?’

‘We did tell you! I even sent you the links.’

‘I know … I never knew how to open them.’

Angie raised an eyebrow. ‘We do okay, but it’s more me just posting photos to remind our regular customers we exist. I’m doing bits and pieces when I remember, and it’s good to have a page to show opening hours and a phone number so people can contact us, but ideally we’d have someone who understands it, the kind of nuts and bolts of it. I think that works particularly well to get out-of-towners ordering online and stuff.’

‘You’re doing online orders?’ David said.

‘David, David, David …’

‘One thing at a time!’ David said. ‘Rome wasn’t built in a day. In terms of the social media, I think it’s working … something the other day ended up with a thousand views, imagine if they all came in.’

‘Well you wouldn’t have space,’ Angie said. ‘You gotta remember, sales are made by less than one per cent of online activity.’

‘Really?’

Angie nodded.

‘Gosh, that’s depressing.’

‘See if it works,’ Angie said. ‘Just always have new plans on the go.’

‘I don’t know what else we could do.’

‘Well is there anywhere you could make savings? We switched who we get our flour from; that’s saved me a couple of grand over the whole year. It’s like pennies a day, but it all adds up. Look, it’s hard … It’s tough for everyone.’

‘I …’ He paused, unsure whether to say it to her. ‘I think we might have to cut back on cakes and things, maybe just offer really simple things I can buy in bulk. I don’t want to do that though! It would be a last resort.’

Angie looked at him, and he wondered if it would have been better to lie than to have come to ask for business advice and suggested cancelling his contract with her.

‘If you need to, you need to,’ Angie said. ‘Don’t worry about me. I’m not some romantic fool.’

‘Only if you’re sure? We already don’t open on Mondays, and I’m staying open late to catch last-minute sales. I’ve even started doing reduced yellow stickers like in the supermarket rather than just giving flowers to Mark. People seem to like that.’

‘Hey, you gotta do what works for you and the customer. We won’t let business get in the way of a friendship, and you’ve got me quite a few wedding contracts, so I’m never going to be mad at you. I couldn’t.’

‘Okay,’ he said, his stomach making loud gargling noises from the bucket-sized cup of tea he was drinking, along with the cake. ‘Thank you. It’s hard. I don’t just see this as business, it’s my life. Mark says I should be more cut-throat.’

‘Maybe he’s right,’ she said. ‘But don’t lose you in the process.’

‘I won’t if you don’t.’

‘Oh I couldn’t lose this,’ Angie said, laughing, gesturing to herself. ‘It’s possible to be a nice person and have a business that makes money. I’ve got faith in that, if nothing else.’

David glanced out from the back room where they were alone to the front of store where it was a hive of activity. A couple of mums were sitting with their kids, and people were coming in for end-of-day treats or bread for the evening, forming a short queue. He knew her margins were tricky, but she seemed like she was doing okay. Maybe it wasn’t difficult for everyone, maybe people just kept saying that to make him feel better.

‘Thanks, Angie,’ David said. ‘You’re even more wise than Mary Portas.’

‘I don’t know about that,’ Angie said. ‘But I’m honoured you’d say it.’

The next day, Meg had insisted on joining David on a trip to the shopping centre in Milton Keynes to pick out what he’d wear to the wedding. They parked a while away from the centre, and Meg kept laughing at him on the walk over.

‘Trying to get your steps in, are you?’ she said.

‘How are those driving lessons going?’ he said back and Meg smiled.

‘I’ll book them, at some point …’

On the walk across the underpass, they made a plan. Three shops only: a department store, a specific suit store and a general men’s clothing store that he thought was a little young for him, but that Meg encouraged him to try. ‘Let’s not overwhelm ourselves,’ David stressed.

Despite the fact it was a random weekday, the centre was incredibly busy. Inside, the glass panels that made up the huge building, once the largest indoor shopping centre in Europe, let in rectangular blocks of sunlight that warmed your skin. Meg told him about how the centre had also been used in a Cliff Richard music video – something he’d never heard before – and he was reminded, with a note of sadness, how much his mum had loved Cliff Richard.

In the first shop, the department store, it took a while to find the suits, and David tried on three different ones he thought he might like.

The first suit, when he came out to show Meg, was too bright under the lights, and he said he wanted something more understated. Meg looked disappointed, but he brushed her off and got changed. The second was ill-fitting, and though Meg suggested getting it tailored, that felt like an unnecessary expense considering everything going on with the shop, and he said he’d think about it. The third was itchy, and he hated it, and didn’t even come out to show her.

In the second shop it was too hot in the changing rooms, like being heated from within, and he felt trapped in every outfit they tried. Every time he buttoned a shirt up to the top around his neck, he felt like he wanted to rip it off. It couldn’t have been the weather, not the way this summer was going, and so he knew it was a mental thing. The man in the suit shop definitely thought he was a father of the bride, and with Meg becoming insular and quiet, David decided they needed to leave.

‘Are you okay?’ he said as they re-entered the main concourse of the shopping centre.

‘Yeah, I just worry … if my dad doesn’t come, who’ll walk me up … You know, all the same things I’m worrying about, all the time really.’

‘Do you want to talk about it?’

‘Not right now,’ Meg said. ‘Let’s do the next shop and then we can get a coffee.’

By the third shop, David felt like he had got himself into what Mark called his Goldilocks state of mind; everything became too difficult to choose, and everything would be too much one way, or the other, but never perfect. With Meg, he felt like he couldn’t say that and so he muddled through a couple of the boring suits he had selected, before humouring her on three of the younger-looking fun outfits she suggested.

The first was patterned, and it definitely was too much. It had floral print, and he worried he’d look like some kind of plant-obsessed lunatic. It would be like Martha coming dressed as a violin, or Angie arriving at the wedding in a Battenberg costume. Meg had since suggested he try the suits with a T-shirt underneath, and the second suit, a light baby blue in a checked pattern, he actually liked. He stood inspecting himself in the mirror before Meg said anything and eventually he turned to her.

‘What do you think?’

‘I really like it,’ she said. ‘Do you?’

‘I think I do. I feel really …’

‘Comfortable?’ she said.

‘Yes.’

‘I think it’s great,’ she said. ‘It’s a summer wedding, it’s nice colours, it goes with the shoes you mentioned.’

‘Do you think?’

‘Oh definitely.’

‘Hmmm.’ David wasn’t so sure. He felt good, but it was outside of his usual wheelhouse, and he wasn’t sure of the attention he might get, particularly from Meg’s parents if they came. He also wasn’t convinced he and Mark had any occasions where he would wear it again.

‘What are your reservations?’ she asked. ‘Do you want Mark to see it?’

‘Maybe,’ David said. ‘It’s a bit … more than I’d usually do.’

‘But if you feel good, get it,’ she said. ‘You’ll be among friends.’

David paused. ‘I’ll get it but I’ll keep the receipt and think about it.’

‘Okay, good idea.’

He went back into the changing room, and said he was going to try the jumper on he’d found as well, and so Meg said to pass her the suit and she could put it behind the till. He tried on the jumper once she’d left, and actually after the suit, it felt like a boring choice, so he gave it back to the person manning the changing area, and went to find Meg.

He couldn’t see her anywhere, so did a lap of the store and then moved towards the stairs and lift, where she was standing with a huge paper bag.

‘I’ve bought it for you,’ Meg said. ‘Hannah and I wanted to. No arguing!’

‘You really didn’t have to do that,’ David said. ‘And you tricked me! Let me send you the money, or half? You’re already paying for a whole wedding.’

‘This is part of the wedding,’ Meg said. ‘I refuse your money. The option is there though if you decide you want to swap it or get something else. I just wanted to give you some good news.’

‘I really don’t think you had to pay for that, Meg,’ David said. He was holding his coffee cup in both hands, and watched a family pass by as they sat outside a large café, which opened out onto the park. ‘But thank you.’

‘I didn’t have to,’ Meg said. ‘But we wanted to. You’ve done so much that I could never thank you, but I hope this says some of that.’

‘Okay,’ he said. ‘I really appreciate it.’

They sat in comfortable silence. Some people were on their own, branded bags or their own rucksacks heaving with recent purchases, hurrying to their next shop or maybe their car. Some groups were wandering slowly, limited in speed by pushchairs, or walkers, or tiny toddlers taking three steps for every one of their accompanying adult. There were a number of kids in buggies that were made to look like cars, and one child passed closely to David, clapping his hands together in joy at being in charge of a vehicle. Adult life is hard, he wanted to tell the child. Don’t wish your life away! He wondered if the children were better at parking than him.

‘Can I ask you a question?’ Meg asked him.

‘Of course,’ he said. ‘No need to ask permission.’

‘Did you speak to your parents?’ she said. ‘I’ve just been thinking about it with my own parents. I know they passed away, but before that … I was wondering if you felt like you wanted to, or if they did, and what happened? I noticed you looking at Salma at the illustration evening, when she talked about a gay wedding. Were you thinking about them?’

He thought seriously for a second about how to answer this question. Was Meg looking for closure, or hope, about her own relatives? Maybe he should just answer the question, speaking for himself, rather than worrying about what Meg might need. He remembered that he had felt funny at the illustration evening at Lilies because he’d been thinking about several things, but mainly Mark’s clear direction that he needed to think about the possibility of their own wedding.

‘I think about them all the time,’ he said. ‘If they hadn’t died, if they’d got older, I like to think I’d have got in touch. They never did though, not properly, or not in the way I wanted. They sent the exact same Christmas card every year. I wrote back with a thank you card and told them every time I changed address. That was it. I always thought, well you’re the grown-ups. You should be looking after me , you know.’

‘And nobody else ever interfered?’

‘My family was tiny,’ he said. ‘They were both only children, and so was I, so there were never siblings, cousins, aunts or uncles, which I am really sad about. There was my mum’s mum but she didn’t do anything, and she was getting on. I wonder all the time if I have any family out there now. I did an Ancestry test hoping I’d find a surprise someone, but there just wasn’t anyone. That would have prompted me to try to make amends, I think, if I’d found that and shown them. Dad would have loved stuff like that.’

David went silent for a minute.

‘I’ve got to make peace with the fact that we didn’t reconcile before they died, you know, but I don’t know if I ever will.’

‘So you think I should reconcile with my parents?’

‘Not if they’re not going to treat you right. You only get one chance at family but you don’t have to put up with being treated poorly.’

‘I know,’ Meg said, smiling at him. ‘I mean the rehearsal’s basically three weeks away. If they don’t come to that, I’m going to insist on an answer for the wedding. Dad needs to come to the rehearsal anyway if he wants to walk me down the aisle, so it’s all resting on that really.’

David had noticed Meg actually tense up when the shop assistant had said something earlier about her walking down the aisle, and he could tell it weighed heavily on her mind.

‘Yes, of course.’

‘So, yeah.’ Meg put down her coffee cup. ‘I’m not begging them to come, but I’m not shutting them down either, if they do need a little time.’

‘That sounds like a good plan.’

Meg smiled at him.

‘Do you think he will walk you down the aisle?’

‘He said yes at Christmas when we announced we were engaged … I’m not very traditional but I do want that to happen. I’d be so embarrassed, I think, everyone wondering why he’s not there, or sitting down but not walking with me.’

‘You don’t need to worry about what anyone else thinks.’ David winked at her. ‘I know saying that’s annoying, but it gets much easier to put into practice as you age, I promise.’

‘I hope so …’

‘Three weeks to go,’ he said. ‘I can’t believe it.’

‘I know!’ she said. ‘Unbelievable. I need to concentrate on my skincare, make sure I don’t get any spots.’

‘Me too,’ David joked. ‘Not sure the five o’clock starts help with that. Shall we head back?’

Looping her arm through his, Meg started their walk back to the van, and David couldn’t help but thinking how it certainly was true that he had no biological family left, but he now had something, whatever it was, that might just be even better than that.