Chapter Twenty Seven
Appleseed Cottage is a hive of activity this morning, with half-dressed bridesmaids darting in and out of rooms, their hair either dripping down their personalised robes from the shower, or bundled up in towels.
I haven’t even had chance to get myself washed and ready, I’ve been too focused on our blushing bride, who certainly is glowing, even without her make up done yet.
I’ve been making coffee, heating croissants and chopping up strawberries since dawn, all to keep Luce and the rest of the bridal party happy.
Good old Hol lends a hand, bless her, but I’m happy to take on the task.
After all, this is just what maid of honours do!
The hours fly by in the blink of an eye, and before too long, Lucy is all done up and ready to get into her wedding gown.
Both her mum and I help her into it, carefully tightening the silky ribbons at the back to accentuate her waist, whilst ensuring she can still breathe.
It’s a delicate balancing act, but we manage it, and Lucy strokes her skirt in the mirror, beaming as bright as a star.
‘Can you believe it, Luce,’ I breathe reverently, struck by her radiance. ‘You’re getting married today!’
‘Yes, I am.’ She simpers at her goddess-like twin in the mirror, all concerns about the state of the reception venue evidently far from her mind.
Things get a bit antsy when we leave for the church; the nerves are beginning to show a bit, so I sneak off to the kitchen, locate the whiskey under the sink and pour Luce a sneaky shot, just to calm her.
The chapel isn’t far from the house, but none of us fancy tottering across the village in our heels and fancy togs, so we’re all grateful for the car service.
Lucy and her Dad hop into a gleaming white Rolls-Royce, while we bridesmaids (along with the mothers and little flower girl Grace) crowd into an extra large mini bus, with its own electronic ramp for Phyllis’ chair.
At least the chapel requires no dressing at all - it’s gorgeous from the outside, a tiny little grey stone building with a shimmering, silver steeple, but the real beauty is inside.
Resplendent stained-glass windows filter the morning light into fractals of colour on the cream stone tiles, dark wood pews line the aisle and a magnificent pipe organ stands proud on a dais above all, the perfect back drop for the bride and groom to speak their vows aloud to one another.
Honestly, it’s enough to make a marriage-doubter begin to believe.
With a richness that stirs the tummy, The Wedding March begins, Grace’s cue to make her move.
Grinning so wide her cheeks must ache, she skips down the aisle like a little angel, spreading her petals with gusto and making everyone coo like doves.
Then one by one, we bridesmaids follow. Handsome in a suit of green tweed, Alex smiles at each of us, but he saves his biggest grin for his bride.
Lucy floats down the aisle, eliciting gasps of awe from her guests, and who could blame them?
She’s a vision, elegant and whimsical all at once in her champagne gown, her sandy hair tumbling about her shoulders in soft waves.
When she reaches the top of the aisle and stands opposite the love of her life, I swear she might burst from happiness.
When the victor announces it’s time for the vows, I unconsciously lean in closer. I’ve no idea what either of them has written, but I’m ever so curious. Alex goes first, and his hands tremble as he reaches into his jacket pocket for a neatly folded piece of paper.
‘Lucy, you are the sugar in my tea, the butter on my toast, the cool side of my pillow. Before I met you, life was mundane, black and white, but you’ve painted it in colours I never knew existed before I looked into your eyes.
I promise to take care of you and embrace your passions as hard as I embrace you.
Loving you has shaped me into the man I am today, and I’m so privileged that you chose to share your wonderful heart with me. I love you, Lucy - now and for always.’
There’s a collective glow of tearful delight emanating from the congregation that feels almost palpable. The victor nods to Lucy, indicating for her to begin. With tear-filmed eyes, she hitches a deep breath and lifts her chin high.
‘My Alex - I’ve spent years dreaming up romances, writing about heroes on horseback performing daring deeds for a lady’s heart.
But all those shiny, polished fantasies are nothing compared to what we have.
You make the everyday a surprise, even the simplest task is a game when we do it together.
You fill my days with laughter, light and most of all, comfort.
You’re my everyday hero, Alex. You’re my everything. ’
A tear rolls down my cheek, and I don’t wipe it away. This is what love looks like: real companionship, the kind that will see you through any storm and revel in the joy of sunny days at your side.
And I realise - admittedly, with some alarm - that I want this for myself, too.
After the confetti has been thrown and the photos have been taken (I swear, I was squinting at the sun in our bridesmaids portrait), we pile into our cars and head for the reception.
I’m sweating so badly that I have to dab at my underarms with the tissue I’d reserved for happy tears at the ceremony.
‘Don’t flap so, Leesh,’ Holly whispers in my ear. ‘You saved Lucy and Alex’s day, they’ll love the venue no matter what.’
It’s a nice thought, I only wish it were guaranteed.
We park at The Pheasants Nest, and follow behind the bride and groom as Barry opens the doors for them.
Lucy gasps, clasping her hand to her mouth, her eyes overflowing.
‘Oh, it’s stunning! ’ she gushes, racing around to admire each and every carefully curated centrepiece. ‘It doesn’t even look like the pub anymore! How did you do that?’
Overwhelmed, I lift my shoulders. ‘I had a lot of help from Finn.’
‘Hey, have you seen the garden?’ Alex exclaims, and Lucy squeals when she steps out onto the patio.
‘This is incredible, Alicia, it’s more than I could have ever hoped for.’ Giggling through her tears, she hugs me tight. ‘I’m so lucky to have a friend like you.’
‘I’m lucky to have you , Luce. I wouldn’t have done all this for just anyone, you know!’ Beaming, I hold her out before me. ‘I’m so relieved you like it!’
The guests seem to love the venue too, oohing and ahhing as they’re welcomed inside and shown to their seats by Dot.
Even moody Auntie Jen has to concede that the place looks fabulous - I’m astonished to spy her congratulating the happy couple after their first dance!
I suppose weddings bring out the lovey-dovey feelings in everyone … even me.
Finn has been busy all day, serving drinks, helping out the caterers, basically being an all-around angel. It’s not until later on into the evening when he finally steps out from behind the bar that I manage to grab him for a dance.
‘I was starting to think I wouldn’t see you today,’ I tell him as we sway gently to Ed Sheeran. ‘I can’t thank you enough for everything. Lucy and Alex are having the best time.’
‘Yeah, we really pulled it off,’ Finn smiles. ‘I think Uncle Barry just might be convinced to host more weddings after today.’
I rest my cheek against his chest, savouring the electric sensations of his fingers laced through mine and his other hand at the small of my back.
I feel so relaxed yet at the same time, I’m fizzling over with excitement; it’s a novel concept.
But when I gaze up at Finn, I know this is more than a novelty.
This is something I truly want to put my all into, an endeavour I would have snuffed out months earlier, now I want nothing more than to fan those flames and let the fire grow.
‘Finn.’ I’m unsure what I’m about to say, but for once, I trust my heart to do the talking.
‘I … I’d to see where this goes. It’s all uncharted territory for me, but if you’re happy to be my first mate, then we’re on.
’ Instead of cowering under the intensity of his eyes, I stare straight into them, unafraid. ‘What do you say?’
He says nothing, at least not with words.
He draws me nearer, so close, I can feel his pulse beating against mine.
Slowly, softly, he lifts me into his arms and tilts his head down, meeting me quite naturally in the middle.
Everything speeds up when our lips collide.
That electricity I felt moments before suddenly transforms into a roaring fire, feeding the passion between us as Finn cups my cheek and I grasp at his hair.
We may be surrounded by dancing couples, but right now, the world might as well not exist. Right now, it’s just Finn and I, and I long to stay in the bubble forever and ever.
When we finally part, the spell remains unbroken, and we face each other unflinchingly, both of us aware that something new and utterly magical is just about to unfurl.