try to think of a comment about the weather.
We reach the church gate, and Luke turns to look at me—and suddenly his face is stripped of its usual quizzical expression.
“Seriously, Becky,” he says. “Do you really want to wait five years?”
“I . . . I don’t know,” I say, confused. “Do you?”
There’s a moment of stillness between us, and my heart starts to thump.
Oh my God. Oh my God. Maybe he’s going to . . . Maybe he’s about to—
“Ah! The bridesmaid!” The vicar bustles out of the porch and Luke and I both jump. “All set to walk up the aisle?”
“I, er . . . think so,” I say, aware of Luke’s gaze. “Yes.”
“Good! You’d better get inside!” adds the vicar to Luke. “You don’t want to miss the moment!”
“No,” he says, after a pause. “No, I don’t.”
He drops a kiss on my shoulder and walks inside without saying anything else, and I stare after him, still completely confused.
Did we just talk about . . . Was Luke really saying . . .
Then there’s the sound of hooves, and I’m jolted out of my reverie. I turn to see Suze’s carriage coming down the road like something out of a fairy tale. Her veil is blowing in the wind and she’s smiling radiantly at some people who have stopped to watch, and I’ve never seen her look more beautiful.
I honestly wasn’t planning to cry. In fact, I’d already planned a way to stop myself doing so, which is to recite the alphabet backward in a French accent. But even as I’m helping Suze straighten her train I’m feeling damp around the eyes. And as the organ music swells and we start to process slowly forward into the packed church, I’m having to sniff hard every two beats, along with the organ. Suze is holding tightly to her father’s arm and her train is gliding along the old stone floor. I’m walking behind, trying not to tap my heels on the floor, and hoping no one will notice my dress unraveling.
We reach the front—and there’s Tarquin waiting, with his best man. He’s as tall and bony as ever, and his face still reminds me of a stoat, but I have to admit he’s looking pretty striking in his sporran and kilt. He’s gazing at Suze with such transparent love and admiration that I can feel my nose starting to prickle again. He turns briefly, meets my eye, and grins nervously—and I give an embarrassed little smile back. To be honest, I’ll never be able to look at him again without thinking about what Caroline said.
The vicar begins his “Dearly beloved” speech, and I feel myself relax with pleasure. I’m going to relish every single, familiar word. This is like watching the start of a favorite movie, with my two best friends playing the main parts.
“Susan, wilt thou take this man to be thy wedded husband?” The vicar’s got huge bushy eyebrows, which he raises at every question, as though he’s afraid the answer might be no. “Wilt thou love him, comfort him, honor, and keep him in sickness and in health; and, forsaking all others, keep thee only unto him, so long as ye both shall live?”
There’s a pause—then Suze says, “I will,” in a voice as clear as a bell.
I wish bridesmaids got to say something. It wouldn’t have to be anything very much, just a quick “Yes” or “I do.”
When we come to the bit where Suze and Tarquin have to hold hands, Suze gives me her bouquet, and I take the opportunity to turn round and have a quick peek at the congregation. The place is crammed to the gills, in fact there isn’t even room for everyone to sit down. There are lots of strapping men in kilts and women in velvet suits, and there’s Fenny and a whole crowd of her London friends, all wearing Philip Treacy hats, it looks like. And there’s Mum, squashed right up against Dad, with a tissue pressed to her eyes. She looks up and sees me and I give a little smile—but all she does is sob again.
I turn back and Suze and Tarquin are kneeling down, and the vicar is intoning severely,