Chapter Forty Carys
My heart is still racing from all the ill-advised running and declarations and kissing I’ve done in the last few minutes.
I can’t believe what’s happened, what’s happening.
My sisters stand behind the cameraman dancing and laughing and are so full of the joy that I feel within my own heart.
But there’s one last thing I need to do.
‘Hi,’ I say to Patrick and Peony as I walk over. ‘Sorry, what a way to meet for the first time.’
‘Well, it’s kind of my fault,’ Peony says, offering her hand for me to shake. I take it because, well, why not shake hands with your future ex-fiancé’s ex-girlfriend-slash-future fiancée. ‘I rather fucked up your wedding. But it seems like maybe it was for the best?’
I look at Patrick, and I can see the hurt and confusion there, muddled among the relief. ‘Can I borrow your boyfriend for a moment?’ I ask Peony, who flushes a little at the word, but it feels right to be honest about the situation. ‘I promise I won’t try to marry him again.’
To my relief, they both share a smile. ‘That would be quite a pickle,’ chortles Peony.
Patrick and I walk back over to the folly, and we sit on the parapet together, away from everyone else.
Well, except the cameras. But our entire romantic relationship has been on film; why not the end too?
‘You heard all that, huh?’ I say.
‘Most of it, yeah,’ he replies. ‘It… explains a lot.’
‘Which bit?’
‘All of it really. I knew… well, not that you weren’t happy, but that there was a part of you I couldn’t access, perhaps.’
I squirm a little. ‘I didn’t realise it was so obvious.’
‘I think only under those circumstances, the pressure cooker of it all. I’m sorry that you couldn’t—’
‘No, Patrick,’ I insist. ‘It’s not your fault. We’re just two strangers who thought they fell in love with each other.’
His mouth flattens. ‘I think you’re right. Despite all that, I loved getting to know you, Carys.’
‘Patrick?’
‘Yes.’
‘Let’s not get married. I adore you, I really do. And I know that I could fall in love with you if we stayed together.’
‘I feel that too.’
‘But we both have people here who we are already in love with, people we want to spend our lives with.’ Patrick and I turn to where Peony and Dolly wait anxiously. ‘I know she’s really important to you.’
‘She is,’ he whispers. ‘And I screwed it up so awfully. That’s why I came on the show, to try again, I suppose. I’m so sorry I wasn’t honest about that.’
‘We both had a lot going on. You got your do-over. Do you want to use our wedding? It’s going spare.’
‘I couldn’t.’
‘You should.’
‘I haven’t asked her.’
‘So ask her!’ shouts Dolly, her hands cupped around her mouth.
We both look over, and Peony doesn’t blush, doesn’t hide away. She waits for him to notice that that’s what she’s here for.
‘I should ask her,’ he whispers, not taking his eyes from her for a second.
I pat him on the shoulder and slip off my engagement ring. I place it in the palm of his hand. ‘Go ask her.’
He does. Patrick gets down on one knee holding out the ring to her, and I think about that moment in the city farm where he did the same to me.
She accepts, because of course she does. The ring even fits her, like it’s magic.
I realise, as he stands and they kiss, that their suits match. Like it was supposed to be this way all along.
Needless to say, the rest of the Stringer family look particularly pleased that he is marrying Peony and not me. We all trudge back to the venue, where our collective guests sit in their pews as before.
This time, I take position as Patrick’s best woman.
It’s not strange; it feels right. We barely notice the cameras as they share vows they make up on the spot, but feel so real.
In the front row, next to my family, Warren, Dolly’s mum, Cousin Jas and Auntie Carol, sits Dolly.
My Dolly.
‘And I now pronounce you man and wife. You may kiss the bride,’ Jane declares, still rather confused about the whole affair, and everyone cheers when they kiss.
‘Now,’ Peony says to me, as they break apart, ‘your turn.’
‘Oh no,’ mutters Jane. ‘There’s protocol. You’ve already had one wedding.’
‘It’s alright,’ I say. ‘This was perfect.’
‘No, actually, I would quite like to marry you,’ says Dolly, standing up. ‘You did ask, and I didn’t get the chance to say yes, so this is me saying yes, with my mother as my witness.’
‘But I don’t know what the rules are. If we can’t, that’s fine!’ I say to Jane.
‘I think you should,’ insists Patrick.
‘Do you need a witness? I’ll witness,’ peeps Moira.
‘Me too,’ says my mum, which nearly knocks me out. I had been too scared to look their way, but they’re here still, aren’t they. My parents may not always understand me, but they showed up. They stayed.
‘I don’t think it’s a legally binding ceremony, is it?’ adds Del.
‘Well, you can’t get married in here,’ insists Jane, a little awkwardly. ‘You only paid for one ceremony, I’m afraid.’
‘What about outside?’ I ask. ‘On the lawns?’
‘You can’t get married without a celebrant. Or on the lawn. Legally.’
‘Oh, come on, Jane,’ groans Ang. ‘Help us out here.’
To my surprise, Reb stands up from the back of the room. ‘Actually, I’m ordained. I could marry you.’
‘Reb!’ I gasp. ‘You would?’
‘I’d love to.’
I understand this is an apology for everything she couldn’t do, everything she didn’t understand at the time, and I forgive her.
‘It wouldn’t be legal,’ sighs Jane.
‘We’ll do that after,’ Dolly insists. ‘We’ve done everything else the wrong way round. Why not this?’
I step down off the altar and take her by the hand, and together we all go out onto the lawns, families and friends together.
Reb leads the way.
My uni friends and their husbands look, let’s just say, quite baffled but then we’ve not been close for a while. Perhaps they’re realising that now. Either way, I wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t for them, in a way. They walk, in their couples, out with us.
Warren wheels Moira in her wheelchair with practised hands, though the poor man has to bend over quite far to reach the handles.
Ang and Del animatedly talk to my parents, in what I suspect is a quick run-down of not just the events of the last few weeks, but why exactly their daughter is marrying a woman despite going on a heterosexual dating show.
Jas takes Dolly’s phone and calls Whit and Malachi so they can watch, and Whit manages to add Lina in too.
Victor and Shreya follow along, like they’ve always been part of this world of mine.
Everyone carries stacks of chairs, or flowers ripped from the altar. Even Jane helps, even though she makes sure to tut enough that we know she doesn’t approve.
Our love is surrounded by love.
In the middle of the lawn, I marry my nemesis, my liar, the woman who helped me see who I really am and, importantly, wasn’t afraid of that Carys.
It turns out that Victor is right. My wife is someone who challenges me, who sees who I really am.
Under the protection of my Goddess of Wrath, I can be anyone. I can be me.
Maybe it’s silly to not think about the future, the long distance, the things we are giving up, but I don’t care.
I don’t care, because I’m free.
I found freedom in Dolly Doherty’s heart, and I plan to live here forever.