Chapter 31 #2
Inside, the chapel is looking stunning. Elle really has outdone herself with the flowers.
I knew she was planning to shut the shop early so that she and the girls could all come over to do the final touches.
She loves the summer because she can get so many beautiful flowers locally grown, and that’s exactly what Olive wanted.
There are vases everywhere, overflowing with the freshest stocks, sweet peas, cornflowers, freesias and gypsophila.
Over the arches of the doors and on the ends of the pews there are gorgeous displays of rambling roses delicately entwined with honeysuckle. The scent is intoxicating.
Joe is at the front of the chapel waiting for Olive to arrive. He looks so smart in his suit. Laurence is Joe’s best man, and he has donned his military dress for the occasion, and wow, I bet he broke a few hearts in his youth.
The ceremony is absolutely lovely. Joe and Olive have chosen to add a couple of personal vows to the standard wedding vows, pledging to continue to honour the memory of their late loved ones.
The vows sometimes make me a little tearful at weddings.
It can be such a poignant moment when truly loving couples declare their complete commitment to and trust in each other.
Janice is next to me in the pew and we exchange a slightly teary-eyed smile as the vows come to an end.
‘Beautiful, wasn’t it?’ she whispers.
I nod and smile again. I don’t know why, but I’m suddenly reminded of going to Becky and Luke’s wedding, with James.
I was standing on my own without him for some of the ceremony that day, but only because James was up at the front being Luke’s best man.
And then we were together at the top table, and he was really attentive, as ever, and even though the grown-up bridesmaids were definitely into him, he made it completely clear that he was spoken for, and that he only had eyes for me.
So different from some guys. It was one of those times when I realised at the end of the day that I loved him even more than before – and I hadn’t thought that was possible.
And now, standing here without James, I feel very alone, and the lump in my throat is growing, and a tear has just slipped out of each eye.
I’m just hoping Gareth doesn’t notice, because if he starts trying to comfort me, I’m going to burst into full-blown sobbing.
Still, if there’s one time you can get away with crying, it’s at a wedding – that and at funerals.
But here we are, with the cake now being served, and I’ve managed to keep it together.
I’ve even managed to keep Katie quiet through the speeches thanks to my small stash of chocolate.
By the way, the cake is something special.
Sarah offered to make it as her wedding gift to Joe and Olive, and she has produced the most amazing creation which looks like it has been sculpted from marble, but is actually a gorgeous rich chocolate cake coated in perfect white chocolate icing.
‘Would you like some cake, Katie?’ I ask, keen to keep her quiet just a little bit longer until the break before the dancing, when there’ll be a chance for her to let off steam.
She grins and nods eagerly, so I let her clamber up onto my lap where she devours most of my slice of wedding cake.
But moments later I regret it, as I’m just whispering her a rambling tale about princesses, unicorns and wombles (her story brief, not mine), when suddenly there’s a strange sound, and a cocktail of sugary stuff is regurgitated onto my dress.
Everyone looks round, clearly thinking I’m the one who’s been sick, probably due to one glass of bubbly too many, as Katie can’t be seen, hiding beneath the tablecloth.
Two minutes later, Katie is right as rain and running around like nothing has happened.
But my poor beautiful dress isn’t going to recover so easily.
‘Let me drive you home, Amy, and you can get changed into a fresh outfit,’ offers Paul, very generously.
Driving myself home to get changed is not an option after all the bubbly, and Gareth has had too many glasses to risk it as well.
But Paul’s not drinking tonight, as he’s still sort of on duty.
It is tempting to take him up on his offer, but I know he’d really prefer to be here to make sure everything is going smoothly, and besides, I don’t want him to miss half the evening.
‘Thanks, Paul, that’s so kind of you, but Sarah said there are some clothes I can borrow from the uniform stock and the old lost property.’
‘It’s no problem, I’ll give you a lift.’
‘Honestly, I’ll be fine,’ I insist. ‘I’ll get myself sorted here.’
So, now I’m dressed in a very unusual cobbled-together outfit, and really feeling like I don’t belong here. Just as well I’m not on the lookout for a new man. Maybe another glass of bubbly will take the edge off the embarrassment.
‘You look lovely as ever, Amy,’ says Paul reassuringly.
‘Very artsy,’ agrees Elle, nodding away. I’m assuming that’s a compliment.
Meanwhile some guys from the crem team have been setting out a makeshift dancefloor, and music suddenly starts playing.
And I realise this is going to be the really hard part.
I’ve been missing James all day, but this is when I’m going to miss him the most, because I love dancing, but I want to dance with James.
James is my favourite person to dance with.
He’d dance to anything, and he always looked so cool and self-assured – I could never take my eyes off him.
So tonight, I am without my number one dance partner, and I’m not sure I can get into the idea of dancing at all.
Gareth has been asked to dance by a very good-looking young man, someone related to Olive, I think, and I definitely don’t want to stand in the way of potential true love.
I walk over to the glass doors which open out onto the gardens.
Maybe I’ll get some fresh air – or perhaps I’ll go and get another glass of bubbly first, just one to drown my sorrows.
I grab a glass from a few still lined up neatly on a linen-covered table, and turn to watch the people on the dancefloor.
Liz and Steve are already up there, and Bob has somehow convinced Janice to join him for the ‘Macarena’.
Paul wanders over.
‘Everything all right, Amy?’ he asks. ‘You look a bit lost.’
‘Oh, no, I’m fine.’
‘Not always easy, eh?’
‘Dancing?’
‘No, weddings.’
‘Oh. No. No, you’re right.’ I think I might start to cry again if I start thinking any longer about how much I’m missing James. I know it’s the same for Paul, he must be missing his wife, but he seems to be a lot better at managing his emotions. In public at any rate.
‘Amy, would you like to d—’
His sentence is interrupted by Elle running up and pulling at my hand.
‘Come on, Amy. Time to dance.’
‘But—’
‘Hey, it’s Donna Summer, you have to dance.’
I must look very reluctant, because Paul comes to my rescue.
‘I’ll dance with you, Elle.’
Elle looks surprised. Perhaps she hadn’t taken Paul for much of a dancer. Come to think of it, I’m not sure I had either. But she smiles at him, grabs his hand and leads him across the room.
Thank goodness for that. I just need some fresh air right now, and the chance to get over my wave of missing James.
Out in the comfortable cool of the gardens, I draw some deep breaths and try to keep myself from crying, but the moonlit night fills my head with memories of when James and I first got together, and I can feel the tears welling up despite my best efforts.
I wander over to my favourite bench, close to where James’ ashes were laid, and sit down.
‘I want you, James. I need you,’ I whisper into the ether. ‘I don’t think I can do this any more.’
‘You don’t need me. You’re doing just fine, gorgeous.’
I’m jolted out of my dreamy state.
‘James?’ I look round eagerly. That was his voice. I’m sure it was his voice. Oh god, now I really am going mad. But I could have sworn that was James speaking.
‘James, are you there?’
But now there’s nothing. No more.
‘Please talk to me,’ I plead.
I sit there for ages, hoping to hear more. If only Mark was here. If only I had Mark’s gift. But I don’t, no matter how hard I try. And I have tried so many times. But just now I could have sworn I heard him.
I stay where I am for ages, straining to hear his voice again. But there’s nothing. What went wrong? Where did he go? Maybe I just imagined it. Maybe it was the bubbly. Maybe I just need another glass to dull this pain.
Elle and Paul are still dancing together when I get back inside. The music has changed tempo now. I suppose it’s getting to that time of night, and who doesn’t love a bit of Nat King Cole? I’m just heading over to get one final glass of bubbly, when Laurence appears, looking dapper as ever.
‘Would you do me the honour of joining me for this dance, young lady?’ he says, with such a sweet gallantry that even in my sorrow I can’t refuse.
We head over to the dancefloor, and he leads me in a gentle waltz to ‘Around The World’.
I’m not brilliant at these formal dances, but I always loved having a go at them.
I had a few lessons when there was a big army ball I was going to with James – a posh do at a very smart venue – so I can just about make my way round a ballroom floor without looking like a complete novice.
Now, partnered with Laurence, who is an expert dancer and, despite being in his eighties, ever so light on his feet, I am in very safe hands on the dancefloor.
And for a few moments I try to lose myself in the movement and the music and not be overwhelmed by the memories.