Chapter Thirty-Eight Carys
The next hour blurs in anxiety and excitement. Butterflies, not fireworks. More appropriate for a wedding, I suppose. My sisters leave me eventually to go sit in the rows of chairs, a kiss on each cheek as they leave.
I take one look at myself in the mirror and see a glimpse of a new me. A bit of the old me too. I vow to unpick this mask. I have to hope that Patrick is excited for an evolving Carys and will go on that journey with me.
If not, well, maybe I need to choose myself for once.
It’s a weird thing to think when I’m standing outside the grand doors waiting to walk down the aisle to where Patrick will, hopefully, be waiting for me. But it’s a strange comfort. I can choose me, and him.
The music swells – the traditional bridal march – and the doors open.
The room is bright white at first, revealing marble columns, white wooden chairs with green ribbons on the back, a path of greenery and petals leading all the way up to where Patrick stands, a matching green sprig in his buttonhole.
He looks so beautiful.
I walk slowly, concentrating on the timing as the cameras watch me, recording this moment forever.
How lucky we are that we will always be able to look back on this?
My uni friends sit with their husbands behind my family, and all of Patrick’s family including his siblings and their partners are here too.
That fills me with hope; they might not approve of this, but they’re here.
I spy a couple that I don’t immediately recognise until he turns.
Victor. My driver from what feels like years ago, and his wife Shreya, who beams at me. I can’t believe they came.
So many people who care about me are here.
This is the beginning of the rest of my life.
Patrick takes my hand as I reach him, and we stand facing each other.
I take one last look at his face as an unmarried man, as though it might morph when the rings are put on.
His lovely deep brown eyes, and those crow’s feet that I will get to watch deepen over time.
His lopsided smile and the lines. Yes, I could fall in love with him. It will come in time, I know it.
‘Welcome, loved ones. We are gathered here today to join Carys Cadwallader and Patrick Stringer in holy matrimony,’ the officiant, a nice lady called Jane, begins.
The show stipulates that we have to stick to the Wedded Bliss script, so she then adds, ‘Our lovely couple have gone through a fantastic experiment to find wedded bliss, and we hope that today will be just the beginning of that.’
His smile broadens and so does mine, and soon we are giggling together.
‘Now, before we continue, I need to ask if there are any witnesses among us who have an objection to this union?’
There’s a heady silence and I hold my breath, wondering if, just if.
‘Excellent,’ says Jane, when no one speaks. ‘I always hate that part.’
Suddenly the huge wooden door slams open, and there, panting and striding up the aisle, is a willowy woman I’ve never seen before, but I know exactly who she is.
‘Peony?’ gasps Patrick.
‘I’m not too late, am I?’ Peony asks, her voice clipped and desperate.
Her curly hair is perfectly styled, and she wears a dark green suit that I’m pretty sure was tailor made for her.
I am awestruck by her Keira Knightley-esque beauty.
No wonder Patrick was so in love with her.
I think I might be a bit in love with her right now.
‘I thought you were in Kenya?’ Patrick asks, which surprises me because he’s never mentioned she was working abroad.
In fact, he’s never really mentioned her to me at all.
‘I came back when I heard. I’m so sorry to do this,’ she directs that last part to me and for some reason I say, ‘Oh, it’s alright.’
This seems to confuse everyone standing at the altar, including Jane.
‘But I couldn’t wait,’ Peony continues, returning to the matter at hand. ‘I couldn’t leave it. I had to come tell you I love you.’
‘Oh hurray!’ cries Patrick’s mother.
‘Shut up,’ hisses Del from across the aisle.
‘Oh,’ says Patrick, but I see it. I see the light in his eyes. ‘Peony, I—’
‘Please. Just give me five minutes. I need to say my piece. If you still want to marry… err. Oh God, I’m so sorry, I don’t know your name.’
‘Carys,’ I offer.
‘Carys! Sorry. Yes, if you still want to marry Carys after that, I won’t stop you.’
Patrick looks to me nervously and I do not have any idea what to do.
Do I say okay and let them speak? Do I say no? This is my wedding after all. What is the normal human reaction at this moment? I don’t have a script for this.
I open my mouth, hoping that the right words will come out, when I hear ‘Stop the wedding!’
And then there’s Dolly, awkwardly running in through the open doors, her movement restricted by her slinky dress. What is she doing here?
‘Dolly?’ I cry.
‘Dolly!’ chorus my sisters excitedly.
‘Oh, hi, Dolly,’ says Patrick cheerily. ‘How was your wedding?’
‘Non-existent,’ she mutters, as she reaches us.
‘You didn’t?’ I gasp.
‘No. Not yet. I had something to do first,’ she says to me.
‘Oh, are you here to be maid of honour?’ Patrick beams. ‘How lovely! I didn’t think that was allowed.’
Dolly’s eyes move from me to Peony. ‘Oh. Hello. Peony, I presume?’
‘Yes, hello.’ For some reason, Dolly and Peony shake hands. ‘Sorry, were you the person I just overtook in the driveway?’
‘Yes, but in your defence, you are wearing a much more sensible outfit to stop a wedding.’
Patrick looks very confused. ‘You’ve come to stop the wedding, Dolly?’
Peony gulps. Dolly’s eyes bore into me. She came? She really came.
He looks from Dolly to me. ‘Carys?’
I can’t speak.
‘Carys, why has Dolly come to stop the wedding?’
‘I—’
‘This is a jolly strange coincidence,’ Peony says awkwardly.
Finally, he looks at Dolly then back to me. That’s when I see it, the moment of realisation in his eyes. It’s a kind of heartbreak.
‘Oh,’ he says quietly. ‘I see.’
‘Can someone tell me what the hell is happening?’ Jane says in the sweetest voice possible for someone who just said ‘hell’ during a wedding ceremony.
And that is when I run.