97

Jean didn’t realize how bad it was until she went downstairs and wandered across the lawn through the drizzle in her dressing gown.

There was standing water in the marquee. Seventy people were meant to be eating in here tomorrow.

She couldn’t help feeling that if she was still organizing the wedding this wouldn’t have happened, though clearly she had no more control over the weather than Katie and Ray.

She felt…old. That was what she felt.

It wasn’t just the rain. It was George, too. He’d seemed fine for a few weeks now. Then, after supper, it all slipped away. He didn’t want to talk. He didn’t want to help out. And she had absolutely no idea why.

She was meant to be worried, not angry. She knew that. But how could you keep on worrying when you didn’t know what the problem was?

She wandered back into the kitchen and made herself some toast and coffee.

Katie and Jacob appeared half an hour later. She told Katie about the marquee and felt almost cross when Katie refused to be panicked.

Katie didn’t understand. It wasn’t happening in her garden. If people found themselves wading through mud they were going to blame Jean. And it was a selfish thing to think, but it was true.

She tried to put the thought from her mind. “So, little man…” She ruffled Jacob’s hair. “What can we get you for breakfast?”

“I want some eggy,” said Jacob.

“I want some eggy what?” said Katie, who was deep in the paper.

“I want some eggy, please,” said Jacob.

“Scrambled, fried or boiled?” Jean asked.

“What’s fried?” asked Jacob.

“He wants scrambled,” said Katie absently.

“Scrambled it is.” Jean kissed the top of his head. At least there was something she could do for someone.