To Love and Be Loved(16)



Ruby ran down the stairs, humming and tooting the chorus of ‘Here Comes the Bride’, while Merrin followed more sedately. She paused as she neared the bottom, knowing that she would never forget the sight of her mum, dad, sister, gran and bridesmaids gathered in the little hallway at the bottom of the stairs, all looking incredibly smart in their finery. They scrubbed up well. The girls’ lilac dresses and her dad’s gold paisley tie matched her mum’s silk dupion coat, which sat neatly over her knee-length tunic dress. Excitement came off them in waves. Their expressions were of love and it was all directed at her. She drank it in, appreciating all that they had ever done and the fact that their unfailing support and sacrifice had given her the most amazing life of warmth and safety, right up until this moment. She might have thought she looked nice enough, but the way her dad’s mouth fell open and her mum’s tears gathered, the sharp intake of breath from Granny Ellen and the sight of Bella placing her hand over her lips as she shook her head left her in no doubt that Digby would be impressed.

‘You look so beautiful!’ her dad managed, as emotion spilled from him.

‘You really do, Merry!’ her mum echoed. ‘Like something from a magazine, but prettier.’ Then she reached up her sleeve for her handkerchief and blew her nose.

‘Where’s the photographer?’ Merrin looked into the parlour to see if she could spot the man Digby’s mother had insisted on booking.

‘I shoved him outside.’ Bella spoke around a mouthful of food. ‘He wanted to push and pull us this way and that, so I told him he could wait for you out there.’

‘What are you eating, Bells?’ Merry noticed the large sandwich in her hand.

‘Bacon sandwich.’ Her best friend lifted the offending article high. ‘So, you remember when Mac from the pub got married and we didn’t get any grub until the evening? I was bloody starving; not making that mistake again, no siree.’ She took a large bite and wiped ketchup from her bottom lip. ‘Plus, I find a chunky bacon sandwich makes a decent beer cushion.’

Her dad chuckled. He loved the girl and her manner.

‘Just don’t drip grease on to your dress!’ Merrin caught the twisted-mouthed look Bella and her mum exchanged, suggesting it might be a bit too late for that particular warning. ‘You’ll all have to move outside; I’ll never get past in this meringue!’

The huddled group did just that, apart from her dad, who held back as the troupe made their way out on to the cobbles at the front of the cottage. She could hear the photographer clicking away and smiled at the thought of Bella’s bacon sandwich featuring in her wedding pictures. God only knew what Ma Mortimer would make of that!

Her dad took his time, savouring the moment, but finally he reached up and took her hand in his, leading her down the last couple of stairs.

‘I don’t think I’ve ever been prouder of anything in my whole life.’ He pushed out his chest and looked her over from head to toe. She saw pride swimming behind his eyes. ‘Look at my little girlie. Proper job. Beautiful!’

‘Thank you, Dad.’ Merrin was careful not to tread on the hem of her frock. ‘Don’t be too nice to me or you’ll set me off!’ She walked into his arms and closed her eyes briefly, knowing the next man who held her would be her husband and that her life would be forever changed. ‘I wish Gramps was here.’

‘He’s here, love.’ Her dad wiped his nose. ‘Don’t you ever doubt that he’s here.’ They were silent for a second. ‘Anyway, I have a rather unusual gift for you, Merry. Something appropriate for my daughter on her wedding day.’

‘You didn’t have to get me a present, Dad.’ She knew they had scrimped and saved to give her this very perfect day, meeting some of the cost for the wedding, with the Mortimers picking up the slack.

‘Well, it’s something I wanted to do and something I hope you won’t ever forget. The lads and I have been working on it for months.’

He opened the front door and stepped out, turning back to watch her face, his arm out ready to take her hand and guide her over the cobbles.

‘Oh, Dad!’ Merrin felt her heart swell and her stomach fold with love for this man. The old open-top horse cart that lived in the boat shed, the one with the horse-hair-stuffed seats and the dodgy cracked paintwork that she and the girls had clambered over, camped on and climbed up when they were small, had been repainted, polished, restored and now stood in front of their home, covered in flowers! Nancy Cardy’s old carthorse Daisy, who lived up on Grange Farm, was harnessed in place, and none other than Jarvis himself sat on the leather-mounted seat with the reins in his hand, ready to drive her to the church.

‘Jarvis! This is amazing! I can’t believe it! Thank you!’

He gave a small nod and kept his eyes on Daisy. She understood his slight awkwardness, having been enlightened by the gang earlier that he might still have feelings for her. Not that Jarvis or his feelings could concern her today of all days.

‘Dad! Oh, my goodness, it looks beautiful!’ She walked forward in her kitten-heeled shoes, holding the hem of her skirt up with one hand and gripping her simple lily-of-the-valley bouquet in the other, before letting her dress go and running her hands over the multicoloured wild flowers. Long lengths of variegated ivy and snaking leaf garlands had been braided and affixed to the sides of the carriage, the harness, the spokes of the wide wheels and anywhere they could be attached. Even the old clodhopper Daisy had flowers painted on her bridle – the work, she suspected, of the artistic Nancy.

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