The Vintage Summer Wedding by Jenny Oliver Read Free Book Online Page A

armchair and switching the CCTV to
Murder She Wrote
.
    Then she picked up the shop’s phone and called her friend Hermione.
    ‘Darling.’ Hermione’s cut-glass accent boomed out of the receiver. ‘Hang on, I think there might be a pause, like you’re calling long distance.’
    ‘You’re hilarious.’
    Hermione made a noise between a snort and a laugh at her own joke. ‘I try. How is it there? Have they driven you out of town with pitchforks yet?’
    Anna snuggled down in the chair and smiled. ‘They’re just sharpening the prongs.’
    ‘Tines.’
    ‘What?’
    ‘They’re called tines. The prongy bits.’
    ‘Not on pitchforks.’
    ‘I think they are. Google it.’
    ‘I’m not Googling pitchforks.’ Anna took a slurp of tea.
    ‘So I laughed out loud at my desk when I got your email about having to hang out with Jackie. I can’t believe she’s still there. What’s wrong with people?’ Hermione’s voice clinked in her ears like champagne flutes touching. ‘But, you know what, I was so intrigued I’ve joined too.’
    ‘Joined what?’
    ‘Tinder.’
    Anna sat up straight, a smile spreading across her face. ‘And have you said yes to anyone yet?’
    ‘Christ no, they’re all dreadful. All from bloody Milton Keynes. Ugly and poor.’
    Anna snorted a laugh.
    ‘I just thought though, why should I sit at home in a fucking heatwave and not go on some dates. Especially if even Jackie’s doing it. But I’ve set my lower age limit to forty-five just so I don’t get Smelly Doug,’ Hermione went on.
    ‘Well no wonder you don’t like any of them.’ Anna casually started flicking through an antiques magazine on the counter.
    ‘I’m waiting for a silver fox.’ Hermione drawled. ‘I’m looking at them now, there are so many that are so dreadful. You should join.’
    ‘What?’
    ‘Just to keep me company while we’re on the phone.’
    Anna ignored her and kept on flicking aimlessly through the magazine. ‘I think you should say yes to some even if you aren’t sure, Hermione. Just to warm up.’
    Hermione snorted. ‘I’m warm enough thanks, Anna. I don’t want anyone not good enough to think they could have me. I’m not having some old duffer in the pub bragging that Hermione Somers-Brown said yes to the catalogue photo he’d uploaded instead of a picture of himself. Go on, join, it’ll give us something to talk about, otherwise I’m hanging up because I don’t really want to hear any of your depressing Nettleton news.’
    Anna shut the magazine and looked around the shop. The idea of being stuck there on her own with nothing to do except sweat buckets in the stockroom and no one to talk to was enough to make her log onto the Vintage Treasure WiFi and download the Tinder app.
    ‘It links to your Facebook,’ she said after a minute, ‘I can’t do that.’
    ‘Oh who goes on Facebook any more.’ Hermione waved away her concern.
    And as soon as Anna was up and running, any niggles were soon replaced by the sheer joy of happily discarding so many over-eager looking men.
    ‘Oh Jesus!’ She heard Hermione say, as she was swiping away a snowboarder doing a double thumbs-up for the camera.
    ‘What?’
    ‘Your dad’s on here.’
    ‘No!’ Anna made a face of horror.
    ‘Shall I put him in my Yes pile?’ Hermione laughed.
    ‘Don’t you dare.’
    ‘He’s a silver fox if ever I saw one. You know, I’d forgotten how handsome he is.’
    ‘Hermione, you’re talking about my father.’
    ‘I know and he’s a dish. Perhaps I could have a torrid fling with him.’
    ‘Hermione, don’t even thi—’ Anna paused, her hand hovering over the screen of her iPhone on the picture that had just appeared in front of her.
    ‘What?’
    Anna didn’t reply.
    ‘What? What’s happened?’
    She stared at the face that had popped up, thick dark hair all messy and lightened at the tips from too much time in the sun. Desert Storm fatigues, huge white-toothed grin, pale lips cracked, face tanned around