Practically Perfect
Page 16
She climbed carefully out of the car, holding her skirts high, and smiled at the young woman and the wide-eyed toddler.
‘I hope you don’t mind us coming, but I just wanted to thank you so much, Dr Wright,’ the woman said. ‘You look absolutely beautiful. Doesn’t she look lovely, Beth?’
Beth nodded, and Connie laughed and bent over. ‘You look a bit better than you did,’ she said, studying the tiny mark on the child’s throat, then she straightened up.
There were other people there she recognised—old Mrs Pike, with her new hip and her hearing aid, and the old postmistress Mrs Grimwade, from whom they had got the kittens, and—oh, so many others, standing there in the damp winter morning to see her.
‘Thank you for turning out to see us married,’ she said to them all, and then looked up at her father.
‘Are you ready?’ he asked.
She nodded, and he straightened her veil, tweaked her nose and held out his arm. ‘Come on, then, let’s go and give you away.’
The organist struck up as they entered the church, and Connie thought she was going to cry when she saw Edward waiting for her with her mother. He was dressed in a little suit, holding a satin cushion in his hands, and gave her a wobbly smile.
‘Hi, darling,’ she said, and bent down and kissed him. ‘Are you all ready to help with the rings?’
He nodded. ‘You look really pretty, Connie,’ he told her, and she nearly cried again.
‘Thanks, pumpkin. You don’t look so bad yourself. Daddy there, waiting for me?’
He nodded. ‘He said I’m not to let you run away.’
She laughed out loud, and everyone turned round and looked at her, grinning. ‘I’m not going anywhere except to him,’ she assured her little page.
Her mother slipped down the aisle into her seat, the congregation waited expectantly and Connie took a steadying breath. ‘Right. Let’s go for it.’
Patrick thought he was going to die of suspense. He heard the music strike up, heard Connie’s laugh and the ripple of amusement that ran through the congregation and then he couldn’t stand it any longer.
He turned, looking down the length of the aisle to the woman he loved more than his wildest imaginings, and swallowed a huge lump in his throat.
She looked stunning. Slender, graceful, her eyes shining behind the simple veil, the delicate blooms of her posy setting off the colour of her hair and the honey-gold of her eyes.
Where she’d found freesias in December he didn’t know, nor did he care. He just wanted her there by his side, the wedding over, their lives together beginning.
She returned his smile, and he realised he was grinning like an idiot. So what? He adored her.
She reached his side, and he winked and squeezed her hand. She threaded her fingers through his and hung on, and he could feel tension in her.
However, her vows were strong and firm, as were his, and he couldn’t understand her nerves. His were over now, banished by her lovely smile and the look in her eyes.
They had to move apart so that Edward could stand in front of them with his little cushion. Patrick’s best man fished the rings out of his pocket and put them on the cushion, and Edward stuck his tongue in the corner of his mouth and concentrated very hard while the vicar took the rings from the cushion and put them on the Bible in his hands.
He blessed them, then Patrick repeated his vow and put the ring on Connie’s finger.
Her hands were shaking now, and then suddenly he realised why when she lifted her right hand. She picked up his ring between her slow, unresponsive thumb and nerveless index finger, very carefully and deliberately. Grabbing his ring finger with her left hand to steady herself, she painstakingly pushed the ring onto his finger and slid it home.
Then her shoulders dropped, her head came up and she laughed softly with relief.
‘I am so proud of you,’ Patrick said, completely ignoring the vicar. He lifted her veil, put it carefully back over her head and reached for her. ‘I love you, Connie,’ he whispered. Then his lips found hers, his arms crushed her against him and he lifted her clean off the ground.
In the background, the vicar carried on. ‘Those whom God hath joined together, let no man put as-sunder.’ Then he looked down at their heads, so close together as Patrick released her, and said, ‘You may kiss the bride—again!’
And everybody laughed and cheered. Everybody, that is, except Patrick and Connie. Patrick had picked Edward up in one arm, put the other round Connie and hugged her, kissing her briefly and respectably this time.
They were married. A new start, both for Connie and for him and Edward, and for the new baby.
A new start for the practice, and for Connie’s parents, too.
Soon it would be the new year, and a new era.
What a wonderful start, he thought and, turning to Connie, he met her eyes and smiled.
‘I love you, Dr Durrant,’ he told her.
‘I love you, too, Dr Durrant,’ she said, grinning.
‘That’s silly,’ Edward said. ‘You’ll have to call her Connie or everyone will get in a muddle.’
‘I think I’ll just be Mrs Durrant,’ she said contentedly.
Patrick’s smile widened even further. ‘Sounds good to me,’ he said. ‘Sounds absolutely perfect.’
ISBN: 978-1-4603-5638-8
PRACTICALLY PERFECT
Copyright © 1999 by Caroline Anderson
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