Epilogue
Twelve Months Later …
Beneath the Northern Lights, two hearts found their course, to sail life’s sea together.
Invitation
Ms Audrey Aston requests your company:
Mulled Wine, Misfits & A Marriage Celebration
Henry and Joy were married a year to the day that they first met.
In a quiet ceremony at Skipton registry office, guests included Audrey, who stood as Henry’s Best Person, and Leticia, Joy’s Matron of Honour.
Dressed in a new shirt, tie and trousers, Audrey refused to abandon her erratically stitched, voluminous cosy cardigan.
She added a corsage of hellebores and heather from her garden, pinned through one of the many holes.
Leticia was resplendent in scarlet satin with diamanté beads threaded into her braids.
She carried a posy of early flowering hyacinths which mirrored the white, sweet-smelling blooms in Joy’s bouquet.
As guests waited for the bride to arrive, Leticia stood alone. Her fingers rubbed the stone of her ice diamond ring, and she remembered the Arctic cruise and the words Jim had whispered when he’d given her the Christmas gift. ‘Let the ring be your always … for the days when I no longer will be.’
True to the words she’d uttered that day, Leticia had never taken the ring off.
Now, wearing a wistful smile, she stared at Henry, who looked every bit the man who knew he was the luckiest pensioner alive.
His face had a youthful glow, belying his seventy-one years, and he wore a perpetual grin.
As Audrey leaned on his arm and whispered something to him, Leticia caught the words ‘Good woman …’ and wondered what else Henry’s best friend had said.
A short distance away, Leticia recognised Joy’s daughter Susan and her husband, Hugh. Timelessly elegant in her Carolina Herrera tailored suit, Susan held a clutch in one hand and fiddled with her pearls. She caught Leticia’s eye and smiled, lifting her hand to wave.
Susan, the daughter, now appreciated her mum. Not out of duty but with an understanding of the truth, too late for comfort but soon enough to start again. ‘I think deep down, I always knew,’ Susan admitted when Joy had finally told her. ‘But I didn’t want to believe it of Dad.’
And that was enough for mother and daughter to begin to build a new bond.
Margaret stood out from the guests. Dressed in a well-cut hacking jacket, crisp white shirt and cravat, her pleated skirt skimmed her sensible brown boots, and she looked every inch the equestrian. But there was no Lady Eleanor by Margaret’s side.
Within weeks of welcoming her new friends to her New Year’s Eve Party, Lady Eleanor slipped quietly away to join her beloved Richard in their final chapter.
Doctors said it was a heart attack, sudden but not unexpected.
When they assembled for the funeral, Margaret told the cruise friends that Eleanor had been growing more distant, her mind often wandering to memories of Richard, and it was clear she longed to join him.
Lady Eleanor Dunmore was buried in the family grave in the churchyard in County Kildare, where friends old and new, and a large local crowd gathered to pay their respects to the legacy of a woman who through her kindness and charitable trust, had left an indelible mark.
The wedding march played, and guests turned to see Joy slowly enter the room. Wearing her gold cruise dress and a soft fur bolero, as she saw Henry, Joy’s smile made it clear to everyone that she had found her forever.
Escorting the bride, with her arm tucked through his, came Jim.
Months of remission from The Beast had given him strength for this day, and Leticia glowed as she gazed at her husband, drinking in his quiet determination.
Was this down to her prayers under the aureola borealis? Every step Jim took was careful and measured, and his face showed his pride in the honour of being Joy’s escort as she went to make her vows with Henry.
Doctors had told them that Jim was in remission, and Leticia and Jim had been granted more time. Not endless, but enough. Enough to witness their friend’s love blossom and sufficient to know that their own happiness was complete.
The reception for the newlyweds followed at Audrey’s home.
It was her wedding gift, and she organised a lavish feast of festive food and drink, laid on by Yorkshire’s finest caterers.
Happy to combine their nuptials with Audrey’s annual mulled wine party for her rainbow wrinklies, it was a colourful crowd that gathered.
Audrey’s parlour had been transformed with garlands and bright lanterns wound through the jungle of potted palms and ferns in their vast Victorian urns.
In the fireplace, logs blazed, sending a golden glow over the guests, and on a 1950s music console, vinyl records were stacked, playing a mix of bebop and 1960s rock and roll.
Audrey had arranged congratulatory cards for the newlyweds on the mantle above the fire. At the centre stood a card bearing a photograph of Jennifer, flanked by her children in neat school uniforms, smiling brightly for the camera. Inside, the message read:
Mr and Mrs Henry, we wish you a happy marriage!
From your Filipino family. We love you very much.
To Henry and Joy’s surprise, there was a message from Barbara. Depicting a cruise ship cameoed in a circle of bougainvillaea and palm fronds, the inscription read: May your love be as deep as the sea that brought you together, and if it ever springs a leak, find a new partner and keep sailing!
‘Good heavens,’ Henry said as he read the words. ‘How did Barbara find us, and where is she?’
Margaret spoke up. ‘I ran across her on a cruise last month, and after we got up to speed, she gave the card to me. She was enjoying ten days in the Caribbean, shacked up with a wealthy American and occupying the Royal Emerald Suite.’ Margaret was thoughtful.
‘Barbara was in her element, more diamonds than a jeweller’s window and cocktails flowing like a river. ’
‘But what has happened to Kenneth?’ Joy looked puzzled.
Margaret gave a wry smile. ‘Ah, Kenneth,’ she said.
‘He seems to have an arrangement with Barbara. Barbara told me he was at home in Cheshire, parading around the golf course in a captain’s hat over his new toupee, escorted by a younger female caddy.
He told anyone who’d listen that Barbara was on a luxurious spa retreat. ’
‘Whatever floats their boat.’ Joy grinned.
‘Indeed,’ Henry agreed.
‘Where are you two lovebirds galloping off to on honeymoon?’ Margaret asked, a playful glint in her eye.
Henry and Joy held hands and exchanged a smile that spoke volumes. ‘We’ve booked a riverboat cruise on the Nile,’ they said as one, their excitement barely contained.
Margaret arched her eyebrow. ‘Ah, the Nile! Marvellous! More cruise escapades. Let’s hope that Hercule Poirot doesn’t turn up with a murder to solve,’ she snorted. ‘And make sure you look out for aristocrats and heiresses who aren’t what they seem.’
Margaret tapped a spoon against a glass and called the room to order.
‘I propose a toast,’ she announced. ‘To the newlyweds, and as they embark on married life, may their love sail as smoothly as the Arctic cruise that brought them together.’ She paused. ‘And while on the Nile, don’t let any pharaohs, pyramids, or mysterious detectives get in your way.’
Glasses were raised, and as laughter rippled and Henry and Joy turned to their friends, everyone chorused: ‘Good luck and carry on cruising!’