Chapter 5
When Ash had imagined herself getting married, she’d thought it might take place in St Albans’ registry office with a clutch of friends and family.
Something small, intimate. She wasn’t someone who’d dreamed about her perfect day since she was four.
Far from it. However, not in her wildest dreams had she pictured her big day being held at Buckingham Palace.
Something else she hadn’t imagined was the Queen turning up to the rehearsal with Honey and Truffle. However, here she was, walking in with Desmond, wheeling the two corgis in a buggy behind.
“For fuck’s sake,” Victoria muttered beside her. Then she addressed her mother directly.
“The dogs, Mother? Really? I thought we were taking this rehearsal seriously.”
But the Queen dismissed her tone with a shake of the head. “I wasn’t sure how long this would take, and they’re both under the weather.”
“That’s because they’re constantly eating everything in sight.”
Victoria’s mother blinked, but decided to ignore her daughter’s comment. The Queen didn’t have any makeup on today, and the dark circles under her eyes were more prominent. Ash hoped that wasn’t their doing.
“I know the staff could have looked after them, but the truth is, I didn’t want to leave them. Plus, it’s close by and convenient. You know how sensitive they are.”
“I know how spoilt they are.”
The Queen waved her hand. “You’ll hardly know they’re here.”
As if sensing they were being talked about, both corgis chose that moment to start barking.
Victoria raised an eyebrow, along with a million hackles.
“By the way, I got a very large delivery of lingonberry jam today from the Swedish embassy. Do you know anything about that?” the Queen asked.
The blush that worked its way up Victoria’s cheeks was fierce and fast as she pursed her lips in thought. Then she snapped her fingers, and nodded.
“Astrid said they were going to send it. Traditional Swedish wedding gift,” she replied.
Smart thinking from her fiancée. It was all Ash could do not to applaud. She moved behind Victoria, and placed a warm hand in the small of her back.
Victoria’s face twitched as she glanced at Ash. Victoria was in a funk today, and Ash didn’t need her picking a fight with her mother when she didn’t need to.
Rather, they needed to focus on the ceremony, because in four days, an audience of billions around the world were going to watch it.
The Queen shushed her dogs with a sharp command, and amazingly, it did the trick. “Where have you got to? Have the staff measured the walkways? Do you know where your charity youngsters and the young footballers need to stand?”
Both Ash and Victoria were walking out to a guard of honour from the Lionesses’ youth team on one side, and the teenagers from Victoria’s homeless charity on the other. They’d all been thrilled to be asked initially. Would they feel the same if they had to stand in the rain for a couple of hours?
Ash glanced up at the roof of the marquee as the rain splattered against it.
“Yes, that’s done. We just need to run through the aisle walks and the ceremony.” Victoria frowned. “Talking of which, where’s Father?”
The Queen furrowed her brow in exactly the same manner as her daughter, and Ash got a front-row seat to her future. She wasn’t at all mad about it.
“I don’t know. He went to play golf with Roger and Travis, and now he’s stuck in traffic. Says there’s a big snarl-up on the M25 and he’s going to be late. I told him not to go today, but he insisted it was his last chance before the roads got impossible.”
Ash checked her watch again. Her parents were also late, held up in the same traffic. She and Victoria were walking up the aisle with their fathers, one after the other.
“As we’re both fatherless, we’ll have to skip the aisle rehearsal, and focus on the ceremony,” Ash said.
“Good idea, Ashleigh,” the Queen said. “I’ll take a seat at the front, give you any pointers on what both of your faces are doing. Remember, the cameras are on you at all times.”
Victoria shot Ash a ‘give me strength’ look, then took her hand and together, they walked up the aisle, sliced through the centre of acres of chairs. Ash’s heart thudded against her ribs, and it only got louder with every step she took.
This was just the two of them. Nobody else, bar Victoria’s mother, the celebrant, some Palace staff, and two yappy dogs.
Sometimes, she wasn’t sure how she’d cope with the ceremony, the wedding party, and what was down the line. The lifetime of cameras and curtsies waiting on the other side. It loomed in her chest like weather.
But then, she looked at Victoria, radiant even when she was in a huff, and she remembered why she was here.
For love.
“In four days we’re doing this for real. With an audience. All these rows of chairs full.” Victoria flashed a nervous smile. “Can you believe it? I never thought I’d get married when I was growing up.”
Ash squeezed Victoria’s hand, then shook her head. “Me neither.”
What had happened in their lifetime — in terms of queer rights, queer love, queer anything — was seismic. Two women walking up an aisle in a royal space. Her teenage self would never have believed it. Her teenage self would have devoured every news article about it, and sobbed.
“You’re going to make an incredible wife.” Victoria’s eyes grew glassy.
“Don’t, or you’ll start me off.” Ash swallowed hard.
“I can’t help it.” Victoria wiped under one eye, careful of her mascara. “I’m due on next week, and my emotions are all over the place.”
“If your mum sees, she’ll shout at you.”
“If my mother spots me crying, she’ll have me sectioned.” Victoria rolled her eyes and did a well-practised impression of her mother. “No weakness on display for the future Queen, Victoria.”
When they got to the top of the aisle, the magnitude of what was going to happen wasn’t lost on Ash. The Queen and Desmond sat in the front row, with the dogs at their feet.
The celebrant, Moira, greeted them warmly. She oozed positive energy and had gone out of her way to help them in the weeks preceding with what they could and couldn’t say. She was also unflappable in the face of this much royalty, which impressed Ash no end.
“How are we feeling? Ready for the big day?” Moira lived her life clad in white and beige linen, which suited her down to the ground. If she turned up in anything else on the actual day, Ash was going to be shocked.
“As we’ll ever be,” Victoria told her.
Moira gave them their positions.
“Did you bring the rings, Ash?” she asked.
Ash nodded. “We did.”
She signalled to one of the security staff, who brought them over. They were too valuable for Ash to casually carry them around.
“Just in case we need to practice putting them on.”
Which, in retrospect, seemed a little excessive. Surely, of all the things in the ceremony, she could manage to put a ring on Victoria’s finger?
“If you’ve got them, we might as well give it a run through.” Moira gave her a full-beam smile.
The security staff retrieved the posh ring box from his pocket and handed it over.
Ash took her future wife’s hand. It was only when she focused that she saw her hand was shaking.
And this was only the rehearsal. If she crumbled in front of the world and became a meme, she’d never live it down.
She’d have to give up football and live in the grounds of their Kensington cottage.
At least the grounds were big enough to put a football pitch on.
“When you’re exchanging rings, make sure you’re not pulling a strange face like you just were, Victoria,” the Queen interjected, rather unhelpfully. “Future Queens always look serene, remember?”
Victoria dropped Ash’s hand, put her own hand on her hip and glared in her mother’s direction. “Like you? Always serene?”
“Exactly,” the Queen replied with a satisfied smile, as Honey and Truffle barked their agreement.
Moira smoothed over the family tension. “Ash, do you want to put the ring on Victoria’s finger and read out your vows?”
Ash shook her head. “I want my vows to be a surprise on the day.” There was also the small matter of her not having written them yet. She placed the ring on the end of Victoria’s finger, then glanced up, straight into those crystal-blue eyes.
A bark at her feet jolted her out of the moment.
Ash jumped.
The ring slipped from her fingers.
Truffle, who had clearly been waiting her entire eight years on earth for this exact opportunity, lunged towards it, and the ring disappeared.
“Oh my god!” Victoria dropped to her knees and seized Truffle’s jaw, prising it open with both hands. “Spit it out, Truffle!”
Ash dropped to her knees. Was Truffle smiling? Whatever, she was definitely eating something.
To Victoria’s left, Honey started barking, scenting drama and wanting in. From somewhere behind them came a strangled “Victoria!” as the Queen rose from her seat.
Ash scrambled across the red carpet on her hands and knees, panic flooding every crevice of her body. Why the hell had she dropped the ring? What if she did it on the actual day? Fuck, that was a scenario she hadn't once stopped to consider.
“Are we sure she ate it? Definitely? It couldn’t have rolled somewhere?” She patted the carpet, arse in the air, and sent a brief prayer of thanks that no cameras were present.
She raised her head. Victoria’s face was inches from hers.
“She ate it, Ash. She eats everything you drop. She once ate a battery.”
“Fuck.” Ash glanced up at the Queen, still on her knees. “Excuse my language, Your Majesty.”
The Queen gave her a serene smile. “In the circumstances, I think your language is entirely appropriate.” She seized Truffle by the collar with the practised grip of a woman who had handled corgis and prime ministers in equal measure.
“Right. Let’s get you home, you greedy little beast, and play a waiting game until you produce Victoria’s ring, shall we? I’ll put your father on poo watch. Penance for not turning up.”
Truffle wagged her tail, entirely unbothered that she had ￡200K of diamond and sapphire resting somewhere near her spleen.