marriage. It’s history and, although he has contact with his ex-wife through their two children, I don’t feel that she’s a threat to our relationship in any way. However, I am still seized with irrational jealousy at the thought that Alex has done this before.
‘It was summer for a start,’ he goes on. ‘We had a marquee on the lawn. It’ll be too cold for that in December.’
‘No,’ I say. ‘I’d be quite happy if we held it in a pub like Izzy and Chris did, at the Talymill Inn.’
‘I’d prefer somewhere a bit more upmarket like the Barnscote,’ Alex says. ‘It will be cosy there at Christmas with the open fires. Elsa will do me a good deal – I treat her pigs, the happy ones.’ They’re called happy pigs because they’re free-range, not because they don’t get eaten. ‘It’s local, and not too far from the church ,’ Alex continues. ‘All we need is good food, somewhere everyone can warm up, have a few drinks and catch up, especially for those of our guests who meet only for hatching, matching and dispatching. It needs to have good acoustics for the speeches.’ Alex cocks his head. ‘Or poor acoustics, maybe, so no one can hear what the best man’s saying.’
‘Have you asked Stewart yet?’
‘He offered as soon as I told him we’d set the date. I dread to think what he’s going to drag up, what secrets he’s going to reveal. Have you decided who’s going to give you away?’
‘I shall do it myself.’ I giggle. ‘I’m not some chattel to be handed from one man to another. It’s a ridiculous tradition and I’m not going along with it.’
Alex grins. ‘You’ll be the talk of the town, Maz. You rebel.’
I rest my head against Alex’s chest and listen to his heartbeat. He smells of antibiotic, the outdoors and musk. I can see a few dark curls of hair on his chest where the top buttons of his faded blue chambray shirt are unfastened.
‘So, are we any further forward?’ I ask.
‘I’ll get in touch with Elsa and arrange for us to go and have lunch or dinner there to refresh your memory of what the Barnscote’s like, if we can find a babysitter.’
‘Your mother spends enough time with George already, and Shannon’s too busy revising for her exams to babysit at the moment.’
‘What about that friend of hers who came with her the last time?’
‘She gave me the impression she wouldn’t do it again, not because of George, but because your father freaked her out, shooting at a rat in the yard.’ I pause. ‘You know, Alex, I wonder if we could just book the register office and go and get married on the quiet. You, me, George and a couple of witnesses.’
‘You can’t do that, Maz. I thought you wanted the big white wedding. Anyway, everyone would be so disappointed.’
‘We could still have a party.’ Do I want the big white wedding? I didn’t think so, but I realise that the pictures in my future wedding album include me in the fairy-tale dress and Alex in top hat and tails, surrounded by family and friends. I feel almost sick with anticipation. With a bit of organisation and planning, it will be a wonderful day. I glance towards my gorgeous husband-to-be. I’m not sure how I’m going to wait until Christmas.
Chapter Four
From this Day Forward
A WEEK GOES by, and the wedding plans fall by the wayside for a while, but I console myself with the thought that there’s plenty of time … It’s summer. There are months until December.
On the Tuesday, when I go in to work in the morning, George is grizzly because he’s overtired.
‘I’m sorry, George,’ I say, because he really doesn’t want to go to nursery today. I don’t know what Sophia was doing with him yesterday, and I resent that. It should be me looking after him, but I need to work too.
Fleetingly, I yearn for the days when all I had to look after was my patients and myself. I used to think how tough it was. Now I know it’s a doddle compared with parenthood, especially when
‘It was summer for a start,’ he goes on. ‘We had a marquee on the lawn. It’ll be too cold for that in December.’
‘No,’ I say. ‘I’d be quite happy if we held it in a pub like Izzy and Chris did, at the Talymill Inn.’
‘I’d prefer somewhere a bit more upmarket like the Barnscote,’ Alex says. ‘It will be cosy there at Christmas with the open fires. Elsa will do me a good deal – I treat her pigs, the happy ones.’ They’re called happy pigs because they’re free-range, not because they don’t get eaten. ‘It’s local, and not too far from the church ,’ Alex continues. ‘All we need is good food, somewhere everyone can warm up, have a few drinks and catch up, especially for those of our guests who meet only for hatching, matching and dispatching. It needs to have good acoustics for the speeches.’ Alex cocks his head. ‘Or poor acoustics, maybe, so no one can hear what the best man’s saying.’
‘Have you asked Stewart yet?’
‘He offered as soon as I told him we’d set the date. I dread to think what he’s going to drag up, what secrets he’s going to reveal. Have you decided who’s going to give you away?’
‘I shall do it myself.’ I giggle. ‘I’m not some chattel to be handed from one man to another. It’s a ridiculous tradition and I’m not going along with it.’
Alex grins. ‘You’ll be the talk of the town, Maz. You rebel.’
I rest my head against Alex’s chest and listen to his heartbeat. He smells of antibiotic, the outdoors and musk. I can see a few dark curls of hair on his chest where the top buttons of his faded blue chambray shirt are unfastened.
‘So, are we any further forward?’ I ask.
‘I’ll get in touch with Elsa and arrange for us to go and have lunch or dinner there to refresh your memory of what the Barnscote’s like, if we can find a babysitter.’
‘Your mother spends enough time with George already, and Shannon’s too busy revising for her exams to babysit at the moment.’
‘What about that friend of hers who came with her the last time?’
‘She gave me the impression she wouldn’t do it again, not because of George, but because your father freaked her out, shooting at a rat in the yard.’ I pause. ‘You know, Alex, I wonder if we could just book the register office and go and get married on the quiet. You, me, George and a couple of witnesses.’
‘You can’t do that, Maz. I thought you wanted the big white wedding. Anyway, everyone would be so disappointed.’
‘We could still have a party.’ Do I want the big white wedding? I didn’t think so, but I realise that the pictures in my future wedding album include me in the fairy-tale dress and Alex in top hat and tails, surrounded by family and friends. I feel almost sick with anticipation. With a bit of organisation and planning, it will be a wonderful day. I glance towards my gorgeous husband-to-be. I’m not sure how I’m going to wait until Christmas.
Chapter Four
From this Day Forward
A WEEK GOES by, and the wedding plans fall by the wayside for a while, but I console myself with the thought that there’s plenty of time … It’s summer. There are months until December.
On the Tuesday, when I go in to work in the morning, George is grizzly because he’s overtired.
‘I’m sorry, George,’ I say, because he really doesn’t want to go to nursery today. I don’t know what Sophia was doing with him yesterday, and I resent that. It should be me looking after him, but I need to work too.
Fleetingly, I yearn for the days when all I had to look after was my patients and myself. I used to think how tough it was. Now I know it’s a doddle compared with parenthood, especially when
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