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What if—
No. Stop it, Poppy. By the time I see Sir Nicholas again, I’ll be a married woman. The
whole bizarre little episode will be long forgotten. It’ll be fine.
“I’ll alert the organist that we’re ready to go,” says Reverend Fox. “Take your places for
the procession, everyone.”
A
me, each with an arm loosely crooked in mine. There’s a knock at the door, and Felix’s owlish
face peers round.
“Poppy, you look amazing.”
“Thanks! Come in!”
“Just thought I’d wish you luck.” He heads toward me, skirting my dress hem carefully
with his feet. “And say I’m so chuffed you’re joining the family. We all are. My parents think
you’re brilliant.”
“Really?” I say, trying to hide my dubious tone. “Both your parents?”
“Oh yes.” He nods fervently. “They love you. They were so gutted when they heard it
was all off.”
“Off?’ echo four astonished voices, all at once.
“Was the wedding off?” says Tom.
“When was it off?” demands A
us?”
Great. This is all I need, the third degree from my entire wedding party.
“It was only temporary.” I try to downplay it. “You know. One of those last-minute
wedding-jitter things. Everyone has them.”
“Mum gave Magnus such a hard time.” Felix’s eyes gleam behind his glasses. “She said
he was a fool and he’d never find anyone better than you.”
“Really?” I can’t help feeling a glow.
“Oh, she was livid.” Felix looks highly entertained. “She practically threw the ring at
him.”
“She threw the emerald ring?” I say in astonishment. That ring is worth thousands. Surely
even Wanda wouldn’t start chucking it around the room.
“No, the gold twisty ring. That ring.” He nods at my hand. “When she was getting it out
of her dressing table for Magnus. She threw it at him and cut his forehead.” He chuckles. “Not
badly, of course.”
I stare at him, frozen. What did he just say? Wanda got the gold twisty ring out of her
dressing table?
“I thought … ” I try to sound relaxed. “I thought Magnus bought it in Bruges.”
Felix looks blank. “Oh no. It’s Mum’s. Was Mum’s.”
“Right.” I lick my dry lips. “So, Felix, what happened exactly? Why did she give it to
him? I wish I’d been there!” I try to sound lighthearted. “Tell me the whole story.”
“Well.” Felix screws up his eyes, as though trying to recall. “Mum told Magnus not to
bother trying to give you that emerald ring again. And she got out the gold ring and said she
couldn’t wait to have you as a daughter-in-law. Then Dad said, ‘Why are you bothering? It’s
obvious Magnus doesn’t have the sticking power for a marriage,’ and Magnus got in a fury with
him and said, yes, he does, and Dad said, ‘Look at the Birmingham job,’ and they had this
massive argument like they always do and then … we got a takeaway supper.” He blinks. “That
was pretty much it.”
Behind me, A
knew you weren’t allergic to emeralds.”
This is Wanda’s ring. Magnus didn’t buy it especially for me at all. As I stare at my hand,
I feel a bit sick. Then something else occurs to me.
“What Birmingham job?”
“You know. The one he quit. Dad always gives Magnus a hard time for being a quitter.
Sorry, I thought you knew.” Felix is eyeing me curiously as loud organ chords from above make
us all jump. “Oh, we’re starting. I’d better beetle off. See you in there!”
“Yes, OK.” Somehow I manage to nod. But I feel as though I’m on another planet. I need
to digest all this.
“Ready?” Reverend Fox is at the door, beckoning us out. As we arrive at the back of the
church, I can’t help gasping. It’s filled with spectacular flower arrangements, and rows of people
in hats, and a crackling air of expectation. I can just glimpse the back of Magnus’s head, right at
the front.
Magnus. The thought makes my stomach turn over. I can’t—I need time to think—
But I don’t have any time. The organ piece is gathering momentum. The choir suddenly
crashes in with a triumphant chord. The Reverend Fox has already disappeared up the aisle. The
fairground ride has begun, and I’m on it.
“All right?” Toby grins across at Tom. “Don’t trip her up, Bigfoot.”
And we’re off. We’re moving up the aisle, and people are smiling at me, and I’m aiming
for a serene, happy gaze, but, inside, my thoughts are about as serene as the particles whizzing
about in CERN.
It doesn’t matter… . it’s only a ring… . I’m overreacting… . But he lied to me… .
Oh, wow, look at Wanda’s hat… .
God this music is amazing, Lucinda was right to get the choir …
What job in Birmingham? Why did he never tell me about that?
Am I gliding? Shit. OK, that’s better… .
Come on, Poppy. Let’s get some perspective. You have a great relationship with Magnus.
Whether he bought you the ring himself or not is irrelevant. Some ancient job in Birmingham is
irrelevant. And as for Sam—
No. Forget Sam. This is reality. This is my wedding. It’s my wedding, and I can’t even
focus on it properly. What’s wrong with me?
I’m going to do it. I can do it. Yes. Yes. Bring it on… .
Why the hell does Magnus look so sweaty?
As I arrive at the altar, all other thoughts are temporarily overcome by this last one. I
can’t help gaping at him in dismay. He looks terrible. If I look like I’m sick, then he looks like
he’s got malaria.
“Hi.” He gives me a weedy smile. “You look lovely.”
“Are you OK?” I whisper as I hand my bouquet to Ruby.
“Why wouldn’t I be OK?” he retorts defensively.
That doesn’t seem quite the right answer, but I can’t exactly challenge him on it.
The music has stopped, and Reverend Fox is addressing the congregation with an
ebullient beam. He looks as though he absolutely loves taking weddings.
“Dearly beloved. We are gathered here in the sight of God … ”
As I hear the familiar words echoing around the church, I start to relax. OK. Here we go.
This is what it’s all about. This is what I’ve been looking forward to. The pledges. The vows.
The ancient, magical words which have been repeated under this roof so many times, for
generations and generations.
So maybe we’ve had some blips and jitters in the run-up to our wedding. What couple
doesn’t? But if we can just focus on our vows, if we can just make them special …
“Magnus.” Reverend Fox turns to Magnus, and there’s a rustle of anticipation in the
congregation. “Wilt thou have this woman to thy wedded wife, to live together after God’s
ordinance in the holy estate of matrimony? Wilt thou love her, comfort her, honor and keep her,
in sickness and in health, and, forsaking all other, keep thee only unto her, so long as ye both
shall live?”
Magnus has a slightly glazed look in his eye, and he’s breathing heavily. He looks as
though he’s psyching himself up for the hundred-meter Olympic final.
“Magnus?” prompts Reverend Fox.
“OK,” he says, almost to himself. “OK. Here goes. I can do this.” He takes an almighty