Those ancient words just send a shiver up your spine, don’t they?
“To be thine… mine… husband. For better, for richer…”
I break off with a puzzled frown. That doesn’t sound quite right. Still, I can learn it properly nearer the time. The point is, the vows are what matters, nothing else. We don’t have to go over the top. Just a simple, elegant ceremony. No fuss, no hoopla. I mean, Romeo and Juliet didn’t need a big wedding with sugared almonds and vol-au-vents, did they?
In fact, maybe we should even get married in secret, like they did! Suddenly I’m gripped by a vision of Luke and me kneeling before an Italian priest in the dead of night, in some tiny stone chapel. God, that would be romantic. And then somehow Luke would think I was dead, and he’d commit suicide, and so would I, and it would be incredibly tragic, and everyone would say we did it for love and the whole world should learn from our example…
“Karaoke?” Luke’s voice outside the bedroom door brings me back to reality. “Well, it’s certainly a possibility…”
The door opens and he holds out a cup of coffee to me. He and I have been staying here at my parents’ house since Suze’s wedding, and when I left the breakfast table, he was refereeing my parents as they argued over whether or not the moon landings actually happened.
“Your mother’s already found a possible date for the wedding,” he says. “What do you think about the —”
“Luke!” I put up a hand to stop him. “Luke. Let’s just take this one step at a time, shall we?” I give him a kind smile. “I mean, we’ve only just got engaged. Let’s just get our heads round that first. There’s no need to dash into setting dates.”
I glance at myself in the mirror, feeling quite grown-up and proud of myself. For once in my life I’m not getting overexcited.
“You’re right,” says Luke after a pause. “No, you are right. And the date your mother suggested would be a terrible hurry.”
“Really?” I take a thoughtful sip of coffee. “So… just out of interest… when was it?”
“June 22nd. This year.” He shakes his head. “Crazy, really. It’s only a few months away.”
“Madness!” I say, rolling my eyes. “I mean, there’s no hurry, is there?”
June 22nd. Honestly! What is Mum thinking?
Although… I suppose a summer wedding would be nice in theory.
There’s nothing actually stopping us getting married this year.
And if we did make it June, I could start looking at wedding dresses straight away. I could start trying on tiaras. I could start reading Brides! Yes!
“On the other hand,” I add casually, “there’s no real reason to delay, is there? I mean, now we’ve decided, in one sense, we might as well just… do it. Why hang around?”
“Are you sure? Becky, I don’t want you to feel pressured—”
“It’s OK. I’m quite sure. Let’s get married in June!” I give him an exhilarated beam. “Shall we go and register today?”
Oops. That just kind of slipped out.
“Today?” says Luke, looking taken aback. “You’re not serious.”
“Of course not!” I give a lighthearted laugh. “I’m joking! Although, you know, we could go and start looking at a few things, purely for information…”
“Becky, I’m busy today, remember?” He glances at his watch. “In fact, I must get going.”
“Oh yes,” I say, trying to muster some enthusiasm. “Yes, you don’t want to be late, do you?”
Luke’s spending the day with his mother, Elinor, who is over in London on her way to Switzerland. The official version is that she’s going there to stay with some old friends and “enjoy the mountain air.” Of course everyone knows she’s really going to have her face lifted for the zillionth time.
Then this afternoon, Mum, Dad, and I are going up to meet them for tea at Claridges. Everyone has been exclaiming about what a lucky coincidence it is that Elinor’s over here, so the two families will be able to meet. But every time I think about it, my stomach turns over. I wouldn’t mind if it was Luke’s real parents — his dad and stepmum, who are really lovely and live in Devon. But they’ve just gone out to Australia, where Luke’s sister has moved, and they probably won’t be back until just before the wedding. So all we’re left with to represent Luke is Elinor.
Elinor Sherman. My future mother-in-law.
OK… let’s not think about that.
“Luke…” I pause, trying to find the right words. “How do you think it’ll be? Our parents meeting for the first time? You know — your mother… and my mother… I mean, they’re not exactly similar, are they?”
“It’ll be fine! They’ll get on wonderfully, I’m sure.”
He honestly hasn’t a clue what I’m talking about.
I know it’s a good thing that Luke adores his mother. I know sons should love their mothers. And I know he hardly ever saw her when he was tiny, and he’s trying to make up for lost time… but still. How can he be so devoted to Elinor?
As I arrive downstairs in the kitchen, Mum’s tidying up the breakfast things with one hand and holding the portable phone in the other.
“Yes,” she’s saying. “That’s right. Bloomwood, B-l-o-o-m-w-o-o-d. Of Oxshott, Surrey. And you’ll fax that over? Thank you.
“Good.” She puts away the phone and beams at me. “That’s the announcement gone in the Surrey Post.”
“Another announcement? Mum, how many have you done?”
“Just the standard number!” she says defensively. “The Times, the Telegraph, the Oxshott Herald, and the Esher Gazette.”
“And the Surrey Post.”
“Yes. So only… five.”
“Five!”
“Becky, you only get married once!” says Mum.
“I know. But honestly…”
“Now, listen.” Mum is rather pink in the face. “You’re our only daughter, Becky, and we’re not going to spare any expense. We want you to have the wedding of your dreams. Whether it’s the announcements, or the flowers, or a horse and carriage like Suzie had… we want you to have it.”
“Mum, I wanted to talk to you about that,” I say awkwardly. “Luke and I will contribute to the cost—”
“Nonsense!” says Mum briskly. “We wouldn’t hear of it.”
“But—”
“We’ve always hoped we’d be paying for a wedding one day. We’ve been putting money aside especially, for a few years now.”
“Really?” I stare at her, feeling a sudden swell of emotion. Mum and Dad have been saving all this time, and they never said a word. “I… I had no idea.”
“Yes, well. We weren’t going to tell you, were we? Now!” Mum snaps back into businesslike mode. “Did Luke tell you we’ve found a date? You know, it wasn’t easy! Everywhere’s booked up. But I’ve spoken to Peter at the church, he’s had a cancellation, and he can fit us in at three on that Saturday. Otherwise it would be a question of waiting until November.”
“November?” I pull a face. “That’s not very weddingy.”
“Exactly. So I told him to pencil it in. I’ve put it on the calendar, look.”
I glance over at the fridge calendar, which has a different recipe using Nescafe for each month. And sure enough, there in June is a big felt-tipped “BECKY’S WEDDING.”
I stare at it, feeling slightly weird. I am going to get married. It’s something I’ve secretly thought about for so long — and now it really is happening.
“I’ve been having a few ideas about the marquee,” adds Mum. “I saw a beautiful striped one in a magazine somewhere, and I thought, ‘I must show that to Becky…’ ”
