He pulled me roughly into his arms and sobbed hard, twice, as much emotion as an old Irishman was capable of. Cameron and Mala moved away to check on their people and to give us some space.
“If I’d lost that sweet, gobshite of a boy I don’t think I could have borne it.” Then he pulled away, wiping his face with the back of his hand. “That’s enough of that now. I’ll go have a word with him, you know he’ll forgive you. He can’t help himself.”
The next time I saw Grandad was an hour later, walking about the farm, a bottle of Teelings in his hand, pouring tots for anyone who wanted one, slapping backs and generally having a fine old time. Preet gave him a wink, taking her glass before turning back to directing some of the clean-up.
I was pretty sure he forgot about the Lady Elspeth from that point on.
“Fee.”
From behind me I heard Alec’s voice. I knew he was alright, had he not been that would have been the first thing I heard when I came out of the house. And yet some part of me must have been unsure, since the sound of him unlocked every sinew in my body and it was all I could do to stay upright.
He was a right mess, the worst I’d ever seen him, disgustingly drunk, passed out in the boot of a car, dressed in ancient dirty overalls, all included. From the legs down he lookedlike the least successful scarecrow in the world, his trousers shredded and his knees looking a mess. Though the Kevlar lining of his jacket was intact the wool was torn to threads.
His hair looked like he'd brushed it with a rake and there was dirt on his face.
We started walking towards each other.
“You look a sight,” I said.
“Your hair is perfect, but that dress has seen better days.”
“I caught it in the doorway to the cellar, helping carry Da down, and then I was sitting on the floor.”
We reached each other, separated by inches. He reached out and cupped my face in his muddy hand, so now we were both dirty. “Martin, how is h-”
Alec’s voice was broken, as if he’d taken a bullet rather than Da.
“Fine, fine. He’s probably been hurt worse working a day on the farm. They’re dangerous places, ya know? He’s mad at both of us for lying about the wedding.”
“If anything had happen-”
“It didn’t.It didn’t.” And then, because I couldn’t say what I wanted to say, because I was feeling too much, I stood on my toes and pressed a kiss to his mouth. He wrapped his long arms about me and pulled me up that few inches difference in our height so my toes dangled and we kissed and kissed like we might never again because maybe we wouldn’t.
From under the catering table that hadn’t been knocked to flinders a Scottish voice rushed out, “...kiss the bride. What God has joined together let no man put asunder. Amen. Get me a bleeding car, I want off of this mad farm.”
Father Barclay, forgotten in the commotion, crawled out from under the table looking, like the rest of us, as if he’d been pulled forwards through a hedge. Lachlan, the most Extra ofthe MacTavish’s appeared from nowhere, looking perfectly neat and pulled together despite having certainly had a piece of the mayhem, and all but skipped over to try and help him up.
“No!” The priest slapped his hands away. “No. You lot find a new parish. I will have nothing more to do with any of you. If one MacTavish - your fine lady mother aside - steps a foot into my church I swear I will have each of you excommunicated!”
“Now, father,” Lachlan started in a placating voice, but the priest thrust a finger up to his face, all but picking his nose for him.
“Silence, you spawn! Take this,” he thrust a piece of paper into Alec’s hand and then said to me, “God save you girl, from this family of rogues.” Then he was off, heading towards where the guests' cars were parked, possibly intending to steal one if need be to get away from all of us.
“Father, let me give you a lift at least,” Lachlan strolled after him, laughing, his hands in his pockets like he was taking a Sunday walk in Kelengrove Park.
“What’s that?” I asked.
Alec shrugged, unfolding the paper.
It was a marriage license. Either a real one, or the finest-looking fake I could imagine. Signed by both of us.
“What the-? Lachlan!” Alec bellowed. “Fee, do you remember signing this thing? I don’t remember signing it. But I sign things all day long. Lachlan, goddamnit!”
Turning back, Lachlan shrugged after the priest, “Yeah?”
“What is this bullshit?”
“Your marriage license. You’re welcome, by the way. You were so busy that you forgot to apply for the thing so I had to grease a few palms and hire two lookalikes who are also first-rate forgers to sign it for the two of you. Do you know how hard it is to find people like thaton short notice?”
