Page 73 of Beg, Borrow or Steal
‘It’s thirty degrees in there!’ he said. ‘You looked like a lobster after it last week.’
‘Some pregnant people spend their whole lives at thirty degrees. I hardly think that forty-five minutes on a bench at the Wimbledon Lido is going to – ’
‘Do you want me to come and see this torsion or not?’
‘Fine.’
‘Fine.’
There was a beat of silence, then: ‘I love you.’
Libby smiled despite her annoyance. ‘I know you do.’ She twisted the two rings on her left hand and her mind flashed back three years.
*****
‘Mother of G .. gah!’ Rita Penny shouted from outside. It was the closest Libby had ever heard her mother come to taking the Lord’s name in vain.
‘What?’ Libby said, and tried to turn but received a sharp swat to the side of her head for moving. ‘Claire, I’ve got to see what’s happened.’
‘Stay still or Iwillburn you,’ Claire threatened, and Libby froze. Claire didn’t do empty threats, and how Libby looked on her wedding day was now a matter of extreme personal pride to her. If Libby was honest (which she would definitely not be with Claire wielding the curling tongs) she didn’t care what she looked like when she married Jamie. She didn’t really care about any of this faff. But it was what The Mothers wanted, so she’d let them have their fun. Unfortunately Claire was so honoured to be bridesmaid that she’d gone slightly crazy about the prep work, even resorting to portable heated hair tongs for last minute touch-ups.
‘Argh!’ Libby heard Bunty scream. This time she did manage to twist around and slip away before Claire could clamp her ear between the two-hundred-degree surfaces. Libby turned to grab her dad and pull him along with her to the church garden. Her hand flew to her mouth and she stifled a bark of laughter. Rosie was standing in the middle of a pool of muddy water just outside the church alcove. Her bridesmaid’s dress, which had been a lovely cream colour, was now very, very brown; and she had leaves and twigs in her hair and a streak of dirt across her face. Next to her was an equally bedraggled Seb in a totally ruined pageboy outfit.
‘They were gone for thirty seconds!’ shouted Bunty, her face red with anger. ‘Rita and I were just discussing canapés forthirty secondsand these minions of Hell managed to roll in the only patch of mud for miles around.’
‘I think you might want to ease back on the old blasphemy, Bunts,’ Kira said, leaning against the ancient oak doorframe to enjoy the show. ‘I doubt these two are actually Hell’s minions. Haven’t you seenThe Omen? I guess we’ll all find out now – if the holy water starts to boil over out of the font I’d say that’s a good sign.’
‘I did warn you,’ Libby said. ‘I did say to – ’
‘We cannot bring our grandchildren to church in their pants, Elizabeth.’
Libby had warned The Mothers that keeping this particular five-year-old and six-year-old pristine in cream silk outfits might be a challenge, but changing them into their wedding attire in the church vestry had been deemed too extreme.
‘Rosie,’ she said (her shoulders were shaking but she managed to suppress actual laughter). ‘What’s in your hands, Little Louse?’ Both sets of Rosie’s small fingers were bunched into tight fists. Not a good sign. She opened them up very reluctantly and at least ten woodlice started crawling up her arms. ‘Seb,’ Libby said to the little boy in warning, and cringed when he opened up to reveal two fat, slightly squashed slugs.
‘I founds ’em,’ Seb said, very proud of his haul.
‘They look like homeless children,’ Rita moaned as she started wiping away the worst of the dirt with a kitchen towel. Libby’s dad allowed himself a small snort of laughter and Libby smiled but elbowed him in the ribs.
*****
There was low, muted laughter as the bridal party started down the aisle. Seb and Rosie were still mostly covered in mud, and the four bridesmaids behind them – Amy, Claire, Tara and Kira – were struggling not to laugh themselves. But silence fell when Libby stepped into view. She might not care how she looked on her wedding day, and she might have a couple of burn marks on her neck, but she had to admit Claire had done a good job. Her dress was simple lace with cap sleeves, her short hair was pinned up with flowers that matched her bouquet, and her make-up was subtle but effective.
The church seemed to be groaning with people and Libby felt a wave of nerves. But as she started down the aisle she passed Steve, who gave her a wide grin and a wink and she breathed a sigh of relief; all the people here were people who cared about her. She smiled back at him, and if she hadn’t known the tough bastard better she would have sworn there was a tear in his eye.
Rosie had abandoned Seb (who was taking his ring-bearer’s duties rather more seriously than she was her bridesmaid’s ones) to run up the aisle and collide with Jamie’s legs at pace. The quiet of the church was broken again with laughter, and he picked her up to settle her on his hip. When Libby arrived next to him he shifted Rosie to the other side so he could take Libby’s hand from her dad’s. Libby and Jamie stared at each other and the church fell silent again.
‘Are you my daddy yet?’ Rosie shouted, breaking the silence with another round of laughter.
‘Yes, honey,’ Jamie said without hesitation, and Libby felt her eyes fill with tears.
‘Right, well, let’s go and have some cake then.’
‘Can you give me a minute to marry your mum?’ he asked, and she huffed but gave an imperious nod. Any form of cake delay was a major inconvenience to Rosie. Pav took the opportunity to wrestle the rings off Seb’s cushion, which was wobbling precariously, and Kira came up to lead both the children away to the front row.
An amused vicar started the ceremony, but Libby didn’t hear a word. With Jamie’s large warm hand encasing hers and his smile filling her field of vision, all she could do was beam up at him.
No more beg, borrow or steal. No more guilt and shame. Shewasworthy of this amazing man.
She always had been.
