Lexie stopped. She had been about to tell Theo about meeting Elliot and thinking her whole world was complete, but she pulled back just in time. That story was still a work-in-progress – she hadn’t worked out the ending yet and until she knew what that was, she didn’t want to go there.
‘After two years I was promoted. I was put in charge of managing the bi-annual catwalk shows and I knew I must be doing something right. My friend Pippa and I would work like trojans all day, and sometimes all night, but we also found plenty of time to party, too, which was amazing, not to mention the unfettered access to all the designer clothes and accessories!’
‘Sounds like a fabulous life. So, I know about the ice-bucket fiasco, but correct me if I’m wrong, you don’t seem to be the sort of person who would find that sort of stunt funny?’
‘Not in the least, and for your information that bucket was filled with meticulously sourced confetti printed with a flattering photograph of Pierre when he was on holiday in Antibes last year as a surprise and a tribute to his success. He got a surprise all right, but it wasn’t the one I intended!’
‘What do you think happened?’
Theo crammed the last croissant into his mouth whole, then washed it down with a long draught of orange juice straight from the bottle. Lexie couldn’t help smiling – Elliot had always been a picky eater, and never partook in breakfast unless it was during one of his many early morning meetings at work when it was a requirement so that their clients didn’t feel uncomfortable.
‘Someone must have switched it.’
‘Who?’
‘I have no idea – but Pippa has assured me that she won’t let it rest until she finds out the truth.’
Lexie smiled ruefully as she recalled the text she’d received from her friend two nights ago, wishing her luck with the wedding and asking if Lexie wanted her to hop on the train down to Cornwall when she finished work on Friday night to help out. Her kindness had caused a lump to form in Lexie’s throat, but she had refused Pippa’s offer because she knew she would be exhausted from holding the fort in her absence.
‘So that’s another mystery to add to the mix. Tell me, Miss Harrington, do you make a habit of attracting chaos or is it a natural talent?’
‘Neither!’
But she couldn’t prevent her lips from twitching.
‘Okay, okay, I might be known for the odd calamity here and there – but never anything as disastrous as destroying the centrepiece of a whole catwalk show! Someone definitely switched those buckets.’
‘Who’s on your list of potential suspects?’
She held Theo’s gaze, ready to shrug the whole thing off so she didn’t have to think about it, but he clearly knew the incident had weighed on her mind since leaving London. As part of her attempt to turn over a new leaf, she made a snap decision to talk about her problems.
‘The only person I can think of is the electrician – Carlton. He was a last-minute replacement when Archie, our usual guy, went off sick. But why on earth would he do such a thing? It doesn’t make any sense.’
‘Maybe he had some sort of a vendetta with Pierre? Or maybe a spurned love affair with the florist that made the headdress.’
‘Floral architect.’
‘Sorry!’
But Lexie joined in with Theo’s laughter. ‘I agree it does sound a little pretentious, but Jacques Millieu is a real maestro when it comes to floral design. His horticultural sculptures are displayed in private gardens, parks and even galleries the length and breadth of London! They’re true works of art!’
‘Ignore me, I didn’t mean to be dismissive or disrespectful. After spending eighteen months, on and off, reporting from the battle zones of Northern Syria, the experience colours your view of the normal world. I do understand the importance of art in all its forms, including fashion and floral architecture.’
‘I didn’t know you were out there. What made you hang up your flak jacket?’
‘This…’
Theo patted his thigh and Lexie wrinkled her forehead in confusion until she remembered seeing him limp when they were in the orangery.
‘Broken in three places. I’m fine until I need to run, and running is something that’s kind of essential when you’re under attack from mortar fire.’
‘Oh, my God, you weren’t…’
‘No, no, the story’s much more, erm, eccentric.’
‘Eccentric? What do you mean?’
To Lexie’s surprise, she saw colour flood Theo’s cheeks.
‘Okay, so it looks like now it’s my turn to come clean with a crazy story. I… well, I fell off a cliff while taking part in an E.I. competition to raise money for Help for Heroes.’
‘What’s E.I.?’
‘It’s a dangerous sport that combines the exhilaration of outdoor activities such as rock climbing, hang-gliding, kayaking, or surfing with the satisfaction of a well-pressed shirt.’
‘A well-pressed shirt!’ spluttered Lexie, unable to stop herself from giggling.
‘Hey, I’ll have you know that Extreme Ironing is a recognised sport that has its own World Championships with hundreds of ironists taking part each year from as far afield as Chile, Australia, Japan and Croatia!’
‘Ironists?’
‘That’s the collective noun for enthusiasts,’ explained Theo, warming to his subject as Lexie struggled to keep a straight face. ‘But it’s not just a solo sport, though. E.I. can be done in tandem or as part of a synchronised challenge.’
‘Synchronised?’ squeaked Lexie, and that was it. She couldn’t help it; she burst into laughter. ‘Synchronised Extreme Ironing? You can’t be serious?’
Theo grinned.
‘It’s great fun, and we’re constantly competing against each other to showcase our expertise in the most inhospitable or wacky locations. Last month, a couple of Army guys I met when I was out in Syria completed an E.I. challenge while standing on the wing of a biplane, and one of the medics, Georgina, ironed a ballgown while doing a bungee jump! Fancy giving it a go?’
‘No way!’
‘Anyway, I got a bit overconfident when I accepted Georgina’s challenge to hang upside down over the side of a mountain in the Lake District. I fell and broke my leg, spent the next six months in rehab, then I was offered the job at the Gazette and the time was right to hand over my steel-capped desert boots to someone younger and fitter. But do you know what? There are just as many battles being fought and traumas being dealt with in the towns and cities of the West Country – without the level of violence perhaps, but no less painful.’
Lexie doubted his job at the Bristol Gazette could be compared with reporting from the front line of a civil war, or even one of his E.I. escapades, but Theo had clearly come to terms with his change in circumstances and had found a new challenge.
‘So you love your job, except for handling the wedding section?’
‘Yes, but every job has its downside!’
‘Downside? What? The gorgeous settings, the wonderful food, the opportunity to hear a couple’s romantic story about how they met, about the proposal, about the honeymoon, to understand why people decide to commit to one another for the rest of their lives?’