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I felt the blood rush back to my face. He was fine. It was fine. There would be a perfectly good explanation and we’d have a happily married lifetime to laugh about it.
‘He’s there, Jeff,’ I said. ‘We can go back.’
‘See, I told you it would all be OK,’ he replied.
‘What possible reason can he have for being late on your wedding day?’ Dad said, furiously. ‘If there’s one thing I can’t abide, it’s poor timekeeping.’
‘Calm down, Dad, this is supposed to be a happy day, remember?’
Jeff got us back to the church in record time, screeching to a halt outside the front door. Lilian gestured to someone inside, then disappeared through the doors and Abi and Mum rushed over to help me out of the car.
‘Have you seen him?’ I asked, scanning their faces for information.
‘Yes, he arrived with Andy just after you drove off,’ Abi replied. ‘He seemed fine.’
‘Ah, thank God.’
Jeff wrestled the bouquet from the front seat and handed it to me.
‘See you in there,’ he said with a reassuring wink.
‘Are you OK, darling?’ Mum asked.
I nodded, taking a deep breath.
‘Everyone’s here and the church looks beautiful,’ she whispered, hugging me tight, ‘and the flowers are fabulous too, of course.’
‘You’ve done a marvellous job, Annabel,’ Dad said.
‘I’ll go in then and leave you to it.’ She touched both our faces and gave Abi a smile as the priest waited patiently by the front door.
‘Are youreallyOK?’ Abi whispered as we walked into the vestibule. I shook my head and took a deep breath as she fussed about with my train, smoothing it down and fanning it out. The harpist was plucking out a Taylor Swift number, and I could see everyone seated through the crack in the curtain. Rows of gleaming mahogany pews decorated with pale-pink roses, packed with guests wearing their finest, waiting for the ceremony to begin. Candles flickered on every shelf and from all the nooks and crannies, lighting up the church and giving off a soft, romantic glow. Jeff and Marjorie, Auntie Pam and Uncle Steve, my cousins sitting together across two rows, George’s school friends, our university mates, everyone happy, smiling and shining. And then there was George. My George. Tall and handsome at the end of the aisle in a sharp, navy suit, with a peacock cravat that matched his eyes. Chestnut curls cropped short, his hands clamped firmly in his pockets as he nervously shifted from foot to foot. I took another deep breath. I was ready.
I nodded at Abi and she signalled to the harpist, who stopped playing. There was a moment of silence as Dad squeezed my hand and mouthed ‘I love you,’ then the music kicked in and Christine McVie filled the room.
Abi pulled the curtain aside with a big grin to step out first, as George spun on his heels and walked down the aisle towards us, slipping through the curtain and pulling it behind him. There were now four of us squeezed into the tiny foyer.
‘What are you doing?’ I squeaked, hiding behind my dad. ‘It’s bad luck to see me before I get to the altar.’
‘I need to talk to you,’ he replied, his eyes to the ground as he walked straight outside.
Oh no. No, no, no, no, no. I looked at Abi who ushered me towards the front door to follow him.
‘I’ll get them to sing the first song to buy you some time,’ she said.
‘What the…?’ Dad was turning purple.
‘Hang on, Dad, let me find out what’s happening.’
I suddenly felt dizzy and for a brief second, thought I might faint, but somehow managed to keep it together and put one foot in front of the other to get myself outside.
George was stood facing up to the sky with his eyes closed as I clip-clopped over in my Louboutins. He was deathly pale and taking dramatic deep breaths.
‘George? What’s going on?’ I asked, as he continued to heavy-breathe.
Now wasn’t the best time to have a breakdown, but it would at least explain things. In fact, an ambulance turning up would make the situation a lot less embarrassing if this was about to go the way I thought it was.
He finally looked at me.
