Chapter Sixty-Three
Epilogue
March could not have given them a more enchanting day.
The sun shone from a cloudless cornflower-blue sky, and it was pleasingly warm for early spring.
Everywhere Cassie looked, she saw happy faces, but none was happier than her own.
She couldn’t stop smiling and didn’t think she ever would.
She was now officially Mrs Cassandra Henshaw-Pearson.
Which everyone said had a perfect ring to it.
The wedding ceremony had taken place at Farleigh Fen Church and Cassie’s father had walked her down the aisle with Emily following behind as her one and only bridesmaid.
There had been disappointment amongst the ranks of nieces from both sides of their families, but Cassie and Ben had held the line, claiming that it was to be as unfussy a wedding as possible.
The reception, which was in full flow now, was at Hope Hall, and as she and Ben had said, where else would mean so much to them, or look more stunning for their photographs?
With permission granted, a marquee had been erected and yesterday the interior had been kitted out with tables and chairs.
Having decided on a traditional country-style wedding, Cassie had wanted the marquee to have the feel of a village fête tea tent rather than anything too swanky and overdressed.
Bunting had been strung up and tables were simply decorated with jam jars filled with daffodils, tulips, anemones, muscari, primroses and small twiggy branches of Salix with their pretty golden catkins.
Along with family, friends and work colleagues, all their neighbours at Hope Hall had been invited, including the Enforcers who had recently handed over the running of the residents’ committee to other neighbours, one of whom, now that Hope Hall was his primary residence, was Ronnie.
Cheryl and Joanna seemed a lot more chilled these days.
The caterers had set up two impressive barbecues and from lavish serving bowls the size of cauldrons, there was every imaginable salad available.
Like many brides, Cassie had been so involved with planning the wedding, the stress of it had done wonders in minimising her appetite and she’d had no trouble fitting into the beautiful dress she and her mother had found.
Made of ivory-coloured lace tulle, it had a cute 1950s feel to it.
A-line in shape with a V-neck, long sleeves and a velvet ribbon around the waist, it was full-skirted and came to just below her knees.
Ben’s outfit of a cream linen suit with a floral waistcoat, white shirt and caramel-coloured silk tie complimented her dress perfectly, but then she had dropped plenty of hints to him as to what he should wear!
From where she was standing with her parents and sister, Cassie was watching Ben as he and his brother, along with Jodie’s husband, having got rid of their jackets, were now playing a boisterous game of croquet with all the nephews and nieces.
It wasn’t just the children enjoying the array of games on offer; some of Ben’s work colleagues were playing splat-the-rat, and the coconut shy and hook-the-duck were proving popular with everyone.
‘Do you suppose any of them know what they’re supposed to be doing?’ commented Cassie’s sister, as they watched the children running around with wooden mallets held aloft.
‘I doubt it,’ answered their mother, ‘but I vote we leave them to it because I spy desserts now being served.’
‘Good call, Mum,’ said Cassie, looking over to where an eager queue of guests was already forming in front of two long tables laden with a selection of mouthwatering desserts. ‘Go and help yourselves, I’m going to do some more circulating.’
‘Do you want us to save you something?’ asked her father.
‘I’ll take my chances,’ she said with a smile. ‘Besides, it looks like there’s plenty to go round.’
Stepping into the marquee and breathing in the milky-sweet smell of crushed grass and spring flowers, Cassie found Venetia and Ronnie sitting at a table with Nina and Jakob. It was the first time that day that she’d had a real chance to chat with them.
‘Here she is!’ boomed Ronnie, getting to his feet and greeting her with a hug, ‘the belle of the ball! Go on, give us a twirl in that lovely dress.’
‘Ronnie, you always say the sweetest things,’ she said, unable to resist spinning round for him and then performing a curtsey. ‘Mind if I join you for a while?’ she added. ‘My feet are killing me in these wretched heels. I’ll be so glad to take them off.’
‘The cry of every bride there’s ever been,’ said Venetia, ‘I know that’s just how I felt.’
Ronnie laughed. ‘Says the woman who’s been married three times.’
‘Says the man who’s not far behind with his two marriages.’
Laughing, Cassie sat in the chair which Jakob had pulled out for her.
‘Are you enjoying your big day?’ asked Nina.
‘I am,’ Cassie said with a heartfelt sigh of pleasure. ‘Everything’s gone like clockwork.’
‘And so it should with the amount of planning you put into it.’
‘It wasn’t just me; Ben and Emily played their part too. Talking of Emily,’ she said, looking around them, ‘have you seen her?’
‘She was with Franco, the last I saw her,’ said Jakob. ‘They were walking along the riverbank.’
‘Is it serious between them?’ asked Ronnie.
‘As serious as anything is at that young age,’ said Cassie with a shrug.
‘For now, it works well between them. They’re having fun, working hard and sharing somewhere to live, but they’re both planning quite different futures.
Franco wants to go back to study in Italy in the autumn and Emily plans to study here.
’ All of which suited Cassie perfectly; she didn’t want her daughter throwing away a second chance of getting her degree.
To her relief, Emily had bounced back relatively well from the Rosalyn Saga.
Having revealed how devious and manipulative Rosalyn had been, it had somehow released in Emily the capacity to grieve, and in her own private way, the loss of her father whom she had only just begun to know.
For several months after Emily had outed her as a narcissistic liar, Rosalyn hadn’t posted anything online, but a few weeks ago, and Cassie hated herself for still checking, she noticed Rosalyn had posted a video of herself on TikTok.
‘I’m back!’ she’d announced into the camera, ‘and I just want to thank you all for your messages of love and concern, and for wondering where I was and if I was okay.’ She’d rattled on ad nauseum about taking time out from social media to look after her mental health and how suddenly the universe was teaching her so much and she was manifesting a new and better life for herself now that she had been led to live in Manchester.
There was no mention of her son. It was me, me, me.
But today of all days was not the day Cassie wanted to waste any time thinking about Rosalyn. All that mattered was that she was out of their lives for good, especially Emily’s.
‘If anyone’s interested,’ she said brightly, ‘puds are now being served.’
‘So I see,’ said Ronnie, observing guests drifting back into the marquee with dessert plates generously loaded.
‘Why don’t you boys go and join the queue and bring something back for us all?’ suggested Cassie. She fancied some girl time with Nina and Venetia – her Hope Hall Besties, as she thought of them.
Ronnie and Jakob duly obliged and when they’d gone, Nina said, ‘Ronnie was right when he said you’re the belle of the ball, Cassie, you look absolutely beautiful.’
‘Radiantly beautiful,’ agreed Venetia.
‘You both look lovely too,’ Cassie said. ‘And how sensible the two of you were to opt for trouser suits and trainers.’
Nina laughed. ‘We discussed it together and decided comfort was what we wanted.’
‘And we didn’t want to outshine the bride, did we?’
‘Oh, Venetia,’ Cassie said, ‘how disingenuous of you, you will always outshine us all. You’re the epitome of elegance. I just hope I look half as gorgeous when I’m your age.’
At the mention of age, Cassie exchanged a furtive look with Nina. In a few weeks it would be Venetia’s eightieth birthday and with Ronnie’s help, Cassie and Nina had planned a surprise party for her. As far as they knew, Venetia didn’t have a clue what they were up to.
In the days after the evening of the gallery exhibition in December, Venetia had been overwhelmed with melancholy, almost as bad as when Bon-Bon had died.
They had all tried to comfort her, but it was Ronnie who had really been the one to help her the most. He was such a dear friend.
When Venetia had told them how nasty Lucien had been to her in the restaurant, none of them could believe or understand why he had been so needlessly cruel.
But then he’d given Venetia a painting – a stunning portrait of her as a child – and seeing how much pleasure it gave Venetia, they’d all found themselves feeling less angry with him.
Of course, Nina had had to deal with Lucien about the sale of his paintings, but at Venetia’s express wish, Nina had kept matters strictly on a business footing, there were to be no questions, no interrogation of him.
In contrast Ronnie had wanted to give the swine a damned good talking to, mano a mano.
Instead, Venetia had given Ronnie a damned good talking to and made it clear that he was to keep well out of it, that everything was resolved, and that was the end of it.
‘Now tell me, you two,’ Cassie said, leaning forwards and planting her elbows firmly on the table, ‘where is Ben taking me for our honeymoon?’
Nina smiled. ‘Nice try, Cassie, but you won’t get it out of either of us. Our lips are firmly sealed. We promised Ben.’
‘And there was I thinking you were my besties,’ Cassie said with a pout.
‘We are, dear girl,’ said Venetia, ‘and that is why we are not going to spoil the surprise Ben has put so much thought into for you.’
‘Can’t you give me a clue, then? Just a small one. Pleeease!’