A Royal Wedding(93)

Kate’s heart melted. ‘Now, do not get me going,’ she croaked. ‘This make-up has taken hours to put on.’ And then they all laughed, sharing a precious last moment in private as the car slowed and turned into the long drive that led down to the cathedral steps.

Molly had already texted her to say that the cathedral was full to bursting with dignitaries, friends, extended family, colleagues—and sixteen very special guests from a small village in Ghana, who had arrived with Simon a few days earlier for a Royal tour of the town and the local countryside and a small inspection of Kate and her home.

Television cameras were already placed to broadcast the wedding to the world.

In fact, the whole week had been a blur of things to be done and organised, with radio and TV interviews, and time with the local dignitaries and the royal party from Ghana.

Chaos had reigned in the O’Neill household. The wedding dress had come first, and then coping with the stress on Gemma and Tom, and meeting Simon’s mother again. The stress had never seemed to end. She was so grateful that Simon had arrived to help.

And of course there was extra stress in that this was no ordinary wedding. This was a royal wedding! Complete with complicated rules of protocol and statesmanship and visiting diplomats and so many people that there had been times when Kate had had to remind herself that she was doing this for Simon.

It scarcely seemed possible that their great day had finally arrived.

And now the car was crawling to a stop. The sound of bells rang out louder and louder across the square, and she saw the crowds of well-wishers and the press gathered outside the cathedral entrance. Her will faltered just a little.

She did not want to let Simon down at the last minute by doing something wrong, or saying something stupid, or falling flat on her face on the steps in front of the TV cameras. Not with the world’s media looking on.

‘He is still Simon,’ her dad said softly, and clasped hold of her hand as she gulped down her racing heart, fired by exhilaration and excitement. Kate looked into the face of the man who had given her and her sister a loving home, and wondered how he had known. ‘He loves you,’ Tom said. ‘Always has and always will, no matter what you do or say, and that is all that matters, isn’t it? Okay?’

Kate threw her arms around her dad, hugging him even tighter. ‘Thanks. That’s what I needed to know.’

Then the chauffeur was holding the door open. Gemma had already skipped out of the car, and was waiting patiently with Kate’s bouquet of yellow roses, fragrant freesias and white frangipani, which Simon had sent over to the house the day before, after sending the local florist into raptures.

‘Are you ready to tell Simon how much you care about him?’ Tom asked and smiled, and Kate felt her shoulders relax a little as he hooked her arm over his. ‘I think you have both waited long enough for this moment. Don’t you?’

She managed a brief nod before turning to grin at Gemma, who was far too excited and impatient to wait any longer. And then Kate looked into her dad’s face for a second, before straightening her back and lifting her chin.

In an instant Kate had stepped out of the car and was standing in the warm sunshine, looking up at the impressive grand old cathedral. She was surrounded by light and noise and the clamour of people cheering and bells ringing and the steady beat of African drums and hornpipes.

This ancient place must have seen some remarkable celebrations and ceremonies over the centuries—but surely none more unique than this very special wedding.

Two of the musicians from Simon’s village were standing on either side of the huge carved stone entrance to the cathedral, each holding a cow horn and blowing into the end of the horn with swollen cheeks to create the most remarkable fanfare of music this cathedral had ever heard. Their necklaces and bright striped bandanas were somehow perfect in the bright June sunshine.

Suddenly a band of Ghanaian drummers and dancers emerged from inside the cathedral, and as Kate and Tom approached they started dancing and singing with such joy that Kate’s heart sang.

Then the ancient doors of the cathedral swung open, and with one final squeeze of her dad’s hand Kate walked slowly into the majestic church. Far above her the organ played ‘The Wedding March’, and somehow the combination of drums and horn-playing and organ music came together to create a magical combination of traditional English and African wedding music.

The dancers from Simon’s village were first in line, followed by the drummers, all dressed in brightly striped woven fabric, and the whole group danced and moved and shuffled into the long aisle of the church which stretched between the entrance and the altar.