Page 73 of The Silent Bride
THEN
The car journey to the church is a blur. Cruising through the busy town centre, I feel like a movie star as passers-by try to catch a glimpse of me, the bride, inside the limo. I’m sitting with my parents and sister, while my bridesmaids are in the other car.
When we finally turn down the winding drive lined with thick green hedgerows, the birds so loud I can hear them singing over the sound of the car engine, my heart begins to pound.
‘Nearly there,’ Elizabeth says, reaching across Mum to give my hand a squeeze.
At the end of the lane, the little stone church finally comes into view, its familiar brown gate and blue lamppost a comforting reminder that some things never change.
We exit the cars and I’m ushered from the bright sunshine into the cool church entrance, where I stand with my bridesmaids while my parents check that everything is as it should be.
‘You look stunning,’ Francesca says, her hazel eyes radiating warmth and calm.
‘Thanks,’ I manage to stammer. ‘I don’t think I’ve ever been this nervous and excited in my life.’
‘Here.’ Daisy takes a bottle of water from her bag, unscrews the top and passes it to me.
‘Oh, you lifesaver. Thanks, Daisy.’ I take it and sip the cool liquid slowly.
I pass it back and she goes to join Elizabeth, who starts fussing around her and Miriam like a mother hen with her chicks.
‘Just take a few breaths,’ Fran says. ‘You’ll be fine.’
She chats to me for a few minutes, soothing words to calm me. But I’m so keyed up that I can barely focus on what she’s saying.
Laurence comes over and interrupts her pep talk. ‘Wow, you don’t scrub up too bad, Porter,’ he says, elbowing me gently in the ribs.
‘Not too bad yourself, Kennedy. And it’s soon to be Porter-Evans, actually,’ I remind him. Laurence’s jokey attitude is just what I need to ground me right now.
‘Fran, you look amazing,’ Laurence says, turning to his girlfriend and kissing her carefully on the cheek so he doesn’t smudge her lipstick.
She blushes and gives him a half-hug. ‘Thanks. It’s not the usual dog-walking outfit.’
I love how Fran and Laurence have been together for years but he still has the power to make her feel great. I hope Seth and I will have that kind of enduring relationship.
Elizabeth calls Fran over, continuing to make last-minute adjustments to all my bridesmaids, smoothing dresses and tucking in stray bits of hair. Laurence gives me a hug and tells me to enjoy the day. He says a bunch of other stuff too but, like with Francesca a minute ago, and everyone else’s well-wishes, I’m finding it hard to focus on anything other than my beating heart and the fact that Seth is inside the church waiting for me.
Suddenly, there are whispered instructions and a flurry of extra activity. Mum hugs me before heading back into the church, and Dad comes to stand by my side.
This is it. I’m about to get married.
Chapter Thirty-Nine
NOW
‘Where’ve you been?’ Laurence asks, as I come into the flat carrying my gold pineapple table lamp.
‘Just went to pick this up from Daisy’s. I’d forgotten about it. Remember? It was in the lounge. I thought it would go great in here.’ Laurence’s flat is lovely – clean, light and spacious – but it’s got no soul. No character. It needs a bit of spicing up.
He gives the lamp a critical once-over. ‘I don’t know,’ he says. ‘It’s a bit ... kitsch for in here.’
‘Exactly.’ I smile. ‘This place is far too serious. It could do with a shot of whimsy.’
‘Uh, it really couldn’t.’ Laurence grins and takes the lamp out of my hands, placing it on the floor behind the sofa and wrapping his arms around me. ‘I missed you this morning,’ he says. ‘Thought we were going to have breakfast together.’ He kisses me and I give myself over to his lips and tongue, his hands pulling me closer.
After the day when we reconnected in his flat, and then slept together for the first time, I was shocked when Laurence immediately suggested that I move in with him. He had no hesitation. No doubts at all. Unlike me.
I was cautious at first. Scared to rush headlong into another relationship after the spectacular failure of my previous two. But, after another week of living in my parents’ house, I finally succumbed to Laurence’s pleas. We’d been spending every evening together anyway, so it seemed daft to keep commuting back to my parents’ house just to sleep. Talking of my parents, Dad is not at all happy with my decision to move in with Laurence. I don’t think Mum’s overly pleased either, but at least she’s keeping her opinions to herself.
