but Leesa and the little girls were too excited to eat and Amanda Louise too picky. Hannah and Jemima happily devoured pains au chocolat and nectarines.
When they were ready, Hannah thought they looked stunning. The little girls wore lace-trimmed dresses and Hannah, Amanda Louise and Jemima flowing satin. Amanda Louise and Hannah’s long hair was plaited at the top, then flowed loose from headdresses of cream rosebuds and dusky green leaves. Although Hannah had protested against the jumpsuits she had to admit they looked amazing, clinging to waist and bum then flowing like a satin river to swirl about her calves above pale peach stilettos. She wasn’t sure how she’d survive the ceremony, wedding breakfast and dancing in the suede stilts but it was what Leesa had chosen so she stepped into them.
The photographer arrived, a middle-aged man in a charcoal suit, and the bridesmaids gathered around the radiant Leesa whose cream dress shimmered, headdress glittered and veil floated like morning mist. Her bouquet of peach and cream rosebuds was a sweeping work of art.
Escorted by the sharply suited female event manager they formed a stately file down the sweeping stairs, the two little girls directly behind a Leesa now visibly vibrating with nerves, then Jemima. Hannah and Amanda Louise brought up the rear. Tinkling piano music wafted up to meet them over a hum of conversation from behind the function room doors. The events manager turned and beamed. ‘Ready, Leesa? Ready, bridesmaids?’ Then she opened the double doors and one of the celebrants raised her voice ceremoniously. ‘Ladies and gentlemen, please rise.’
Music grew and swelled as they glided down an aisle formed by rows of blue and silver chairs. Hannah’s eyes prickled as she saw Rob waiting with a beaming smile, shifting nervously on the balls of his feet. His best man was a guy called Eerich from Rob’s work whom Hannah had barely met. He and the celebrants faded into the scenery. All Hannah could focus on was the love in Rob’s eyes.
In fact, Hannah spent the entire service with a sob lodged in an aching throat. Rob and Leesa’s wedding had been in the planning so long that she hadn’t really understood the magnitude of pledging your life to someone in front of a crowd of people.
Imagine loving somebody so much that after decades, after children, after life’s trials and tribulations, you’d still want more. She envisioned that in thirty years it would be Rob and Leesa with retirement adventure plans, like Hannah’s parents, presently holding hands in the front row.
The service was beautiful. The guests sang, ‘You raise me up’ but Hannah was too choked to croak a word. Amanda Louise glared when she forgot to step aside during the vows and had to be nudged to the chairs reserved for the bridesmaids. A man’s hand appeared over Hannah’s shoulder and dropped two white tissues in her lap. All she saw apart from the hand was a snowy cuff and a dark sleeve but she gasped, ‘Thank you!’ and blew her nose.
It wasn’t until the service was over and the register signed that Hannah, in control of herself now and hiding her damp tissue beneath her bouquet, rose to follow Mr and Mrs Goodbody Junior back down the aisle to a joyful march ringing out from the piano and saw the person who’d been seated directly behind her. The man with the snowy cuffs, dark suit and clean tissues was Nico Pettersson. His hair was neatly cut now and gleamed golden under the chandeliers. His closely shaved face looked lean rather than gaunt. A girl in a blue dress stood at his side, her plait over one shoulder, and a toddler wriggled in his arms. They must be Josie and Maria.
Hannah only had time to hiss, ‘Thanks,’ and flash a smile before Jemima urged her into her place in the bridal procession.
In the grand entrance hall Hannah hugged Rob and Leesa. ‘Congratulations! Wow, that was so lovely.’
‘Thanks, sis,’ said Rob, beaming. He never stopped beaming, even through the interminable process of wedding photos as chattering guests looked on and wait staff circulated with trays of sherry and orange juice. The bridesmaids were needed as set dressing and Hannah’s feet began to hurt.
Between photos, Amanda Louise hissed, ‘Do you already know him?’
‘Who?’ Hannah waved at Nan, a vision in pale lemon with a matching feather in her white hat. Someone had fetched her a chair and she was watching with a fond smile and a sherry glass.