Short Stack - Lily Morton Page 0,61

of us is very famous, which accounts for a few second glances.

It’s an imposing building with marble floors that gleam softly and a ceiling with ornate coving.

“Wallis Simpson married her second husband here,” Dylan says cheerfully. “So did Judy Garland and Marco Pierre White.”

“They all married Wallis Simpson’s husband? Times were wild then.”

He nudges me. “No, silly. They married different people.”

“Didn’t all those marriages end in divorce?”

“Hmm,” he says shiftily. “Ooh, look, there’s my mum.”

I shake my head as he rushes off. Spying a familiar wheelchair and a man with black and grey waves of hair, I race over. “Pa,” I say.

A wide smile breaking over his face. “There’s my boy,” he says, hugging me tightly. He puts me back slightly. “Well, look at you. Don’t you scrub up well.”

“Not as well as you.” I look admiringly at his navy pinstriped suit. “Where did you get this from?”

“Your mother made me go shopping in Exeter. She thought for some ridiculous reason that I needed a new suit.”

“The only suit you own is the one you got married in.”

“Exactly,” he says indignantly. “And I still fit in it.”

“And I’m sure that brown velvet and flares are very close to coming back in fashion again,” I say soothingly, jumping back so he can’t pinch me. I look around. “Mama said you were talking to some man about helping him buy a second home in Devon.”

He shakes his head. “He was here a minute ago. Can’t work out where he’s gone.”

I grin and look up as Asa comes over. “The registrar needs a few words with you,” he says, throwing his arm over my shoulders.

“Why?”

“To make sure you’re in a fit state of mind.” He smirks. “Good luck with that. Try not to talk too much.”

He and my father break into peals of laughter as I shake my head and walk over to where a stern-faced woman is waiting to usher me into a room. I wince as Ivo detaches himself from Henry’s mouth and follows me with his camera clicking.

“What are you doing?” I hiss.

He smirks. “Just getting photographic evidence of the day.”

“Should you be calling it evidence? I’d work on your spiel if you’re branching into wedding photography,” I snipe. “It sounds more like a crime scene investigation.”

“If Dean doesn’t find those rings, it may turn out to be.”

Dean is standing on the other side of the waiting area taking off his socks and shoes. I glance at the stern-faced woman ahead of us and sigh. I feel a bit like I’m being summoned to the headmaster’s office. However, she proves to be very friendly and to have a lovely smile, so I’m much more relaxed when I leave the room ten minutes later.

The area outside the waiting room has filled up when I come out, and I smile in delight at seeing Dylan’s parents and siblings. I wave and begin to make my way over, only to be intercepted by Amos.

I hug him. “You alright, Amos?” I bite my lip. “Come to offer me some marital advice?”

“Ah, just bear with him no matter what he does.” I blink as he shakes his head gloomily. “It will all pan out as fate intends, Jude.”

“And that’s good?” I ask hesitantly.

“Usually not,” he says with a sort of gloomy relish. “My study of fate leads me to conclude that it’s usually the reverse.” He sighs heavily. “I’m sure you and Asa will weather the tests of time.” He pauses, and honesty obviously compels him to add, “Most people don’t, though, so I wouldn’t be too disheartened if it all goes terribly wrong.”

I blink, and my arms are suddenly full of Peggy. “Jesus, Peg.” I laugh, disentangling myself. “You nearly put my eye out.” She’s wearing a fuchsia-coloured suit and a matching hat with a feather in it.

“Is that a pheasant feather?” I ask, reaching out to touch it.

She slaps my hand away. “Not sure what it belonged to but it was definitely dead before they took this for my hat.”

“That’s a massive relief,” I say solemnly.

She grins at me until her eyes fill. “Oh, don’t mind me,” she wails, reaching into her massive handbag and pulling out a hanky. She blows her nose a couple of times. “I’m just so bloody happy, Jude. I’ve known him since he was a scrawny lad and all these years I’ve wanted so desperately to see him loved because he’s such a special man.”

“I know,” I say softly and hug her. “Thank you for looking after him.”