A Civil Wedding

Claudia smoothed the ivory satin over her five-month bump, and marvelled at her exotic reflection. She swished girlishly in the gown, loving its rippling feel on her legs; the serene walk these new cream shoes impelled her to adopt. The small tiara twinkled in her softly bobbed hair, as though giving Claudia a ‘you’re gorgeous’ wink.

Through the bay window beyond the mirror, the first clusters of guests – those few relatives who had not sourly snubbed their invitations – were like a rainbow of chickens in their silks and fascinators. It was a bracing March morning; the pastel sunshine lent an auspicious radiance to this former Victorian manor house.

Claudia watched her family bobbing across Ackleton Manor’s gravelled car park – until a knock drew her to the door. Their loss, she thought contemptuously of the absentees, as she sailed across the bedroom. This is going to be a wonderful day.

Violet was there, in her appropriate colour: a floaty suit, accentuating her still spry figure, and a hat whose diameter was virtually the doorway width.

‘Grandma, you look stunning.’ Claudia manoeuvred herself beneath the brim for a hug.

‘Violet for Violet.’ Her grandmother did a saucy little spin, like a blue-rinsed supermodel. ‘Now let me look at you. Ah, how proud would Grandpa have been!’

‘Don’t start,’ Claudia mock admonished, ‘I’m hormonal enough as it is, remember! Mind you, I can’t wait to see Kenny’s face.’

‘I know! He is an immensely lucky man, but then I am somewhat biased! And if this place does flood with tears, I’ll be all right. I can sit in this thing’ – Violet motioned to her hat – ‘and punt myself to safety!’

Alan, Claudia’s father, hovering wanly in his tailcoat all this time, now hugged his daughter. ‘You look gorgeous, my sweetie. S’cuse me a mo, though, just going to dash off for a fag.’

‘Thought he’d given up.’

‘Poor love, he’s working himself up about his speech.’

‘He’ll be eloquent with a few glasses of red inside him.’

Claudia glided over to the flowers, propped on a cardboard block. She picked up her posy of hyacinths and rehearsed her walk, carrying them demurely back and forth past the mirror.

‘Aunty Norma’s not coming, you might know.’

‘Didn’t expect any better from her.’

‘Disowned me, in fact.’

‘The mean bint!’

‘Called us “grotesque”.’

‘Unbelievable!’

‘I’m sure she thinks anyone less unsullied than a nun’s nightie isn’t qualified to be a bride.’

Claudia stroked her belly protectively with her flower-free hand.

‘No sour grapes there then about never having married herself!’

‘Of course not! I sometimes wonder quite who she’s saving herself for, at her age. Not that that’s the only issue here. Then there’s Larry and Cath, who’ve had it away to Gran Canaria. They say they’d booked the holiday before knowing about the wedding, but I’m sceptical.’

‘It’s a case of being under big sis’s thumb, though, with Larry, isn’t it?’

‘Oh, he’s always been brainwashed by Norma.’

‘S’pose these experiences can be beneficial, though – you learn who your allies are.’

‘You don’t half. Honestly, you’d think Kenny and I were beasts with three heads, the way that lot carry on. Beats me how a pair of consenting adults in love can cause so much offence.’

‘Not to us, you don’t.’

‘No, well you’ve been a total rock these last few months.’

The two women embraced emotionally in silence for a few moments, needing each other, drawing comfort at this poignant time.

‘“You haven’t known him five minutes,” is one of the more charitable comments we’ve had. “Got the bloke living with you before you even know what he’s all about.” “Making a laughing stock of yourself,” “scandalising the family,” blah blah. They’ve even taken issue with Kenny being a bit younger. Anything to detract from the real reason they’re all so anti.’

‘Ah, balls to ’em!’

‘But on the issue of us allegedly hurtling into this, Kenny did actually suggest postponing ’til after the baby comes along. A tiny bridesmaid or pageboy would have been adorable, but frankly I’m impatient.’

‘Too right! What do they think, that delaying another four months or so will give them time to talk you out of your alleged error of judgement? Ooh, that’ll be Dad again.’ Claudia laid the posy down gently and went for the door.

‘Look who I bumped into.’ Alan, smoke-scented and still looking wobbly, was accompanied now by Mike the photographer.

‘Good morning, ladies. I’ll just grab a few shots, if I may, of the bride and her granddaughter.’

******

Twenty minutes later, Alan – still trying to snuff out thoughts of his looming ‘son of the bride’ speech – escorted a stately Violet down the aisle. Alan, unique amongst Violet’s offspring to champion her union with Kenny, had crossed swords with Norma and Larry over their refusal to do likewise.

‘You’re just scared your inheritance will get chopped, that’s all,’ he’d argued against their tirades about Mother making an impetuous fool of herself.

Alan’s pregnant only daughter, Claudia, the natural choice as lone bridesmaid, was beatific in ivory behind them, exchanging doting smiles with her husband Peter.

At the head of the converted drawing room, now sanctioned for civil marriage, Kenny, Santa-haired and rod-backed in his tails, awaited his purple-garbed bride with a jubilant grin. They both looked ageless.

Theirs had certainly proven a controversial courtship – but since being paired for a foxtrot at their ballroom class three months ago, marriage had been their express intent.

‘I’m eighty-two, Norma,’ Violet had remonstrated with her scathing daughter, ‘and Ken’s seventy-one, your dad’s been gone eight years now, Ken’s been divorced nearly twenty, we’re harming nobody, we have so many shared interests, enjoy our companionship, know we want to be together – where’s the logic in dallying?’

Within weeks, they were cohabiting in Violet’s warden controlled bungalow – and on their one-month anniversary, the light-footed lovers had booked this smallest suite at Ackleton Manor, predicting the opposition and consequent sparse turnout.

Claudia dabbed her eyes as her grandma and new step-grandpa reciprocated gold rings and flowery vows.

Definitely their loss, was her verdict on the judgemental lot who were staying away today.