Page 77 of The Happiness Project

Dad walks up to Marti and stands directly in front of him, legs astride.

‘Son,’ he says. ‘I ain’t looking for trouble, but if you don’t get your hands off my woman then that’s exactly what you’re gonna get.’

Marti looks him up and down then snorts, ‘You and whose army?’

He stands and goes to take a punch at Dad. Dad grabs his fist and quickly pulls that arm behind Marti’s back, pushing him out of the bar. Dad returns and walks up to Mum, then pulls her out of the chair, dips her down backwards and kisses her — just like in the movies. As I’m watching all of this, I have a tiny tear of joy in my eye.

We all erupt into cheers and a round of applause, then more champagne appears and the entire entourage take a glass. We toast true love and I give Patty a huge hug of thanks.

It’s soon time to move onto the nightclub, but once outside the restaurant, Mum and Dad tell us that they’re going home for an early night.

‘And I’m going to make him keep the Stetson on,’ says Mum with a wink as their taxi arrives.

‘Argh, too much information,’ I tell her as I kiss them both goodnight.

Walking along with Patty on one arm and Michael on the other, I feel as happy as I have been in a long time.

‘So it was all a set-up and Angie’s dad knew about her bucket list?’ Michael asks.

‘He did,’ Patty says. ‘He was the one who told us that it was probably his fault as he hadn’t been very romantic recently. He forgot their anniversary.’

‘It’s not their anniversary until July,’ I say puzzled.

‘The anniversary of their first date, apparently,’ says Patty. ‘They went to see a Gary Cooper movie.’

‘Hence the costume,’ says Michael. ‘It’s a good job the other group were in cowboy outfits.’

‘We weren’t until Patty and Zoe hatched their plan,’ Peter tells us. ‘We were going with the garlands too until then.’

‘Then Angie’s mum did me a favour too,’ says Charlie, leaning into Peter and adjusting the Stetson. ‘I do like a man from the Wild West.’

Chapter Thirty-Seven: Time of My Life

The hour of the wedding finally arrives and I’m nervous as I help Charlie adjust his bow tie. I’m his best woman today and couldn’t be more thrilled. There are no speeches so my only official duty is to get Charlie there on time and try to keep him busy for the day. The happy couple decided on an evening event so that it would feel like a party from the outset, and that’s a great idea but it could have resulted in Charlie and me spending all day fretting about things that could go wrong. Anticipating this, I booked us into a day spa for a relaxing massage and facial. We still spent the day fretting but thanks to some medicinal mud we don’t have the wrinkles to show for it.

I researched the 1950s theme and quickly realised that the fashion was knockout so I’ve fully embraced it. I absolutely love my dress, which has an hourglass outline and Bardot neckline. I’ve also got the long black gloves, small clutch and killer stilettos to complete the look and feel like a sexy Audrey Hepburn. I might not be able to walk in a couple of hours but for now even I feel good. Charlie is in a vintage tuxedo which doesn’t look too different from modern versions except for the small bow tie and lapels but he is radiant. I stand back and look at him affectionately; the slimline cut of his suit works perfectly and he seems to shine from the top of his immaculately coiffured head to the tip of obsessively polished shoes.

‘You look fabulous,’ I tell him.

Dad comes to pick us up and hands Charlie a small box. Charlie opens it and he looks up at Dad with delight in his eyes.

‘They’re gorgeous,’ he says of the mother-of-pearl cufflinks.

‘They’re genuine 1950s and they’re our gift to you,’ says Dad. ‘So you have your something old.’

Charlie hugs Dad and we hurriedly change the ones he’s wearing. We’re heading out of the door when Charlie suddenly says, ‘Wait, I don’t have anything borrowed.’

His ‘blue’ is the lovely thistle buttonhole, his new is his entire outfit, Dad has just provided the old, so I’m with him on this — he has to have something borrowed.

‘Got it,’ shouts Patty from the other room. She rushes in with a watch box. I’m stunned as I know what’s in it.

‘This was Nigel’s,’ she says, holding back the emotion. ‘You never knew him but I’m sure you would have loved him, and besides which, you’ve certainly looked after his missus these past few years.’

It’s the watch she gave Nigel for their wedding, a simple gold face and black leather strap. It’s perfect. Charlie picks it up and gently caresses it. It has an understated elegance not often seen in modern-day timepieces. It doesn’t count steps.

‘Oh, Patty, are you sure?’ asks Charlie as a tiny tear appears in Patty’s eye.

She nods and pats her eyes gently.

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