A hush comes over the room as the arrival of the bride and groom is announced, and Greta and Will enter to a rapturous applause, taking their seats at the top table beside their immediate family. As happy as I am for Greta, it all reminds me of how far behind everyone else I am. No immediate family, no spouse, no girlfriend, no kids. Jesus, I need to get a move on.
Dinner is outstanding as expected; I chose the lobster risotto to start, followed by lamb with barley and parsnips, then a chocolate fondant to finish. Sarah went with the same dessert but had scallops with caviar to start and an inventive-looking duck dish with grilled pears for her main course. I google the wine, feeling my eyebrows shoot up into my hairline when I see the price tag. Sarah and I both pull faces at how bloody delicious everything is. It’s perfection, even down to the waiting staff, who are all trained with military precision, expertly placing and clearing plates like stealthy catering ninjas.
Will’s niece Emma seems to have taken quite the shine to Sarah, quizzing her on her dress and something involving coffin nails which I’m sure is less morbid than it sounds. The rest of the table are chatty enough, but it’s not a patch on the riot I would have had with Harriet and Matt here too. As the coffee arrives at the tables, I hear the sharp feedback from a speaker as the bride’s father Mike is introduced to give the first speech.
‘First of all, I want to welcome you all and thank you for joining us on this very special day,’ he begins. ‘I know that some of Will’s family have travelled from as far as Australia to be here and it means the world to all of us.’
A small collective cheer from the Australians in the room makes everyone smile, while Greta’s dad wipes his leathery forehead with a napkin and sips his wine.
‘Now, being an MP, I’m not entirely averse to public speaking, however, Greta has asked me to keep this short – probably because we have a lot of speeches to get through, but also probably for fear I might filibuster for hours with her entire life story and keep the band waiting.’
I see Greta and her mum both laugh and nod in unison.
‘So instead, I’ll just thank Greta for being Greta. Her mother and I are unbelievably proud of the woman she’s become. We wish her and Will nothing but happiness, love and the humour to deal with whatever life throws their way. We love you both.’
Mike is now in tears. God, even I’m starting to tear up a little. Sarah whoops in support of the man, who’s now being hugged tightly by his daughter, along with the rest of the room.
Next up is Will, who receives a rapturous applause before he’s even said a word. He stands there, basking, like he’s just won an award.
‘Thank you, Mike, for those kind words. On behalf of mywife and me–’ the room cheers – ‘I want to say how thrilled we are that you could be here to share our special day. I would also recommend that you keep your glasses charged as I intend to toast a lot of people in the next few minutes. Starting with my parents, Diana and Hunter. . .’
Hunter? Is his dad a gladiator?
Will keeps to his word, pretty much raising a glass to everyone who is here, who couldn’t be here, who works here and even family members who died before being here was even an option.
‘And finally, to my beautiful partner in crime, Greta.’ He takes her hand and she gazes into his eyes, like there’s no one else in the room.
‘Thank you for choosing to take the tube on that rainy morning five years ago. Thank you for taking a chance on the man who offered you his umbrella on the way out. Thank you for being the first face I see in the morning and the last I see at night. . . and most of all, thank you for agreeing to be by my side as we navigate this crazy, beautiful little thing calledlife. You are the skip in my step, the light in my eyes and the song stuck in my head. Thank you.’
As everyone puts their hands together, I see Sarah purse her lips, desperately trying to stop the corners of her mouth from shooting upwards.
‘Well, that was truly beautiful, wasn’t it?’ I say to her, grinning. ‘The emotion. . . the poetry of it all. . .’
‘Stop it.’
‘I mean, what new bride doesn’t want to be compared to a stuck record during a wedding speech?’
She breaks, promptly pulling a napkin to her face to hide her laughter. ‘Oh God, we are terrible people.Crazy,beautiful, terrible people.’
Shondra glances over at Sarah who’s almost hiding under the table. ‘Is she OK?’
‘Overwhelmed,’ I reply, rubbing Sarah’s back as she shakes with laughter. ‘She’ll be fine.’
Sarah finally regains her composure as the next of the speeches continues. Five speeches later, it’s time to cut the cake, which is served with even more coffee. With an hour to freshen up before the dancing begins and the evening guests arrive, those who are staying in the hotel retreat to their rooms, while Sarah and I take a breath of fresh air in the hotel garden.
‘God, I feel so bad for laughing,’ Sarah says, as we take a little walk. ‘I feel like such a jaded old bastard these days.’
‘Don’t beat yourself up,’ I respond. ‘You’re human. That level of cheese is hard not to smirk at.’
‘You dated Greta, right?’
I nod. ‘Years ago.’
‘Interesting. So that could have been you up there, almost plagiarising Queen.’
‘Doubtful,’ I reply, chuckling. ‘Our relationship was very brief and very uneventful, which is probably the reason we’ve remained friends.’
‘No broken hearts?’
