Later that night after the last guest had gone, we had cleared the majority of the venue and chucked the food in the bins. Such a waste. The few remaining family and friends were heading into town to make a night of it as it was only just after twelve. I was absolutely shattered, there was no way I could go out and party now. God, I had got so old, lol. Me and Edward got a taxi and on the short ride home all I could think about was what Spence had said.
The Venue
After the party we had pondered on the idea of going abroad doing the whole get married in Vegas and then come back and have a reception. Walking down the aisle to an Elvis impersonator singing Fools Rush In, in a little makeshift chapel on the Sunset Strip. But weighing up the pros and cons we decided to do it here. We may regret it later down the line, but the main reason was so we could have everyone we wanted there for the main bit, getting married, not just for the piss up afterwards.
So, the date was set. 21st of September. The first thing really that you need to sort out is a venue. Unless you already know where you want to get married then you may have to change your date to suit them. We had viewed some possible venues and gone to some wedding open days but none of them felt right. There was always something wrong, whether it be where the toilets were situated or that you got married in one place and then had to take a long walk to the reception. I did like the idea of getting married in a church and there was a church I had driven past a few times quite near to our home which would look beautiful in photographs. My hubby to be wasn’t too keen as he wasn’t religious, but then nor was I, but I said it couldn’t hurt having a look. I found the vicar’s details online and called him to see what we needed to do to get married there. Our first hurdle was that we weren’t in their parish. Our parents and grandparents hadn’t got married there either so to marry there we would need to attend for a few months prior to the wedding. Okay, so this was not ideal as we led busy lives and done shift work, but least we had a chance. The vicar was down to earth, funny and sounded young on the phone not how I imagined at all. He said to come to a service and see what it was like first, as he said that his way was not for everyone. I couldn’t wait. I was super excited. Edward did not share my feelings.
The following Sunday me, my mum, dad, Chynna and Edward arrived at the church. The entrance was arched with wooden doors, stained glass windows and a huge cross on the roof, all lit up, and it smelt of wood. As soon as I walked in, I thought of Malcolm; not the best start. It was the smell first that reminded me of him, and then the bare wooden frame of the balcony took me back to a time I felt like I was being watched. I had this feeling every time I used the toilet in Malcolm’s empty echoey house. It was supposedly haunted, so maybe I was.
There had been stories over the years about that house, and the road the houses had been built on, that it was cursed, that it use to be an old burial ground. I sometimes would get an overpowering smell of lavender like how my nan once smelled, but no grannies were in sight; or I would get an overwhelming scent of smoke, which also reminded me of my nan as she always had a fag in her mouth, even was buried with a packet of fags. I don’t think no one thought to put a lighter in her coffin though, so fuck knows how she was going to light it.
Things happened at home too. I would sometimes hear the sound of someone walking up the stairs when my mum and my siblings were all fast asleep in bed. When my nan become unwell I knew something was wrong as her picture fell from the wall. This had happened before when my grandad had died. A psychic once came to the area and said it was naughty spirit children lighting fires. That explained the burning smell, but not the flowers. None of the children or Spence had the same feelings or smell and thought I was doing it for attention. They knew I was Malcolm’s favourite as he would always single me out and make me work alone or near where he would be, and would pay me more money. Little did the other kids know that he was probably paying me extra because he was doing extra things to me. I even felt eyes on me when I was using the loo. I would always be told to use the toilet upstairs, even though there was one downstairs that all the other kids used. Okay, the one upstairs was bigger, but it had bare creaky flooring and only
