Page 92 of The Best of Times

She kissed him and nodded toward the door.

With a swirl of butterflies, Aron pulled it open.

It was a perfectly crisp and sunny winter’s day. The marquee had been removed. A small group of guests sat in the gardens, patiently waiting. The gold in the colour scheme glinted, giving the whole thing a fairy garden effect.

“Aron. It’s beautiful.”

It certainly was.

Those who hadn’t got an invite to the ceremony were standing on the street. Aron recognised some of them from the shops on Queens Parade. Others were in the windows of some of the houses. The one thing they all had in common was they were positively beaming.

So much love in a small space was overwhelming.

“You’ve pulled quite a crowd,” he whispered.

“As if there were ever any doubt.”

They descended the steps as the music started. The crowd turned as one.

Once on the street, Granny placed her arm in his and they walked slowly toward the gardens. They had been Granny’s domain for decades. Now she was marrying her true love in them.

Instantly a lump formed in Aron’s throat. He glanced at her. She was the epitome of poise and calm. He managed to swallow his own emotion down. It wasn’t his wedding day, after all.

They crossed the cobbled street with Parkin trotting beside them. He remembered learning to ride his bike on there when they would come to Queens Crescent for Sunday lunch.

The gates to the garden were wide open and festooned with bunting. Inside, the floor was covered with a green tarpaulin. The trees lining the space gave it the vibe of a woodland glade. But instead of old oaks, they were surrounded by Georgian terraces.

Granny was doing this in style. They would talk about this wedding for years to come. And it had only just begun.

They travelled slowly up the aisle. The Professor and Paul were at the end with their backs to everyone. Granny smiled and nodded at all the guests. Aron recognised most of them. He winked at Mercury. Then giggled at Alexander who was sobbing and having to be consoled by Zac.

“Drama queen,” Granny whispered.

This made him chuckle all the more.

They reached the dais and made it up the small staircase. Now the Professor spun round. Aron thought his heart might burst when he saw the pure love on his face as he stared at his bride.

“Beatrice,” he said breathlessly. “You’re beautiful.”

He kissed her on the cheek. Aron let her arm fall and took Parkin’s lead. It appeared that his responsibilities didn’t end with giving Granny away.

Before they all faced the celebrant, Aron allowed his gaze to rest on Paul. For a split second, they maintained eye contact before Paul looked away.

So much was said in that moment that neither had had the courage to verbalise hours before in Aron’s bedroom. Loss. Anger. Pain. And love. Still love.

This was so unfair.

The celebrant cleared her throat and the music faded.

“A warm welcome to the friends and family of Professor Philip Higgs and Mrs Beatrice Wimpole,” she began. “Today marks a new beginning in their lives. They are so happy that you are all here to share this special moment with them.”

Parkin yapped, which made everyone laugh.

“In a change with tradition, the groom would like to say a few words before we conduct the ceremony. Professor Higgs?”

The Professor straightened up and stared at their guests.

“When Beatrice Wimpole agreed to be my wife, I was the happiest man in the world,” he began. “I know that we have a reputation for sticking our noses into other people’s business.”