‘Oh, Florrie, lovey, you look absolutely beautiful,’ exclaimedher mum, her voice wavering as she handed her daughter the small hand-tied bouquet of spring flowers.
‘Aye, that you do, lass.’ Her dad beamed, pride shining in his eyes.
‘You look like a princess,’ said bridesmaid Chloe, who’d been dropped off earlier by her mum Jasmine.
‘And so do you,’ replied Florrie. Chloe was dressed in an ivory silk ballerina-style dress, the bodice decorated with ivory bugle beads, a cashmere shrug cardigan over her shoulders. Her long strawberry-blonde hair, which had been fixed in loose waves for the occasion, was held off her face by a diamanté and faux pearl headband. Florrie could only imagine how proud Jasmine was of her little daughter.
‘Ready, lass?’ Her dad arrived by her side.
‘Ready, Dad.’ The pair exchanged a happy smile.
‘Let’s do this,’ cheered Chloe, her chirpy voice puncturing the air of anticipation and making them all laugh.
As the car headed out of the street and set off on its short journey to the church, Florrie found herself lost in her thoughts, not all of them welcome. A happy one was that her dad’s health had improved in leaps and bounds since his trip to hospital, and the dizzy spells were less frequent – though the labyrinthitis still hadn’t stopped her from worrying about him walking her down the aisle today, knowing he’d be mortified if he had a dizzy turn in front of so many people.
Ed had gone to great pains to reassure her that nothing untoward would happen involving his parents. Luella, he said, had finally got the message loud and clear that their relationship was over, and was now back in London, as were his parents. His father had told him that after everything that had happened, he and Dawn wouldn’t return to Micklewick Bay for the wedding. That had triggered conflicting emotions in Florrie who, on the one hand, was enormously relieved to hear that, since their absence guaranteed Dawn wouldn’t be causing any trouble. On the other hand, she felt bad that Ed wouldn’t have his mother andfather there.
When she’d voiced this to him, he’d explained that he thought it was for the best. A further development was that his father had encouraged Dawn to seek help for her gambling addiction. Since she’d returned to London, she’d made an appointment with her GP, who’d put her on a waiting list for addiction counselling. The news had left Ed and Florrie feeling inordinately relieved. It was a start; Florrie just hoped that it would mean she’d leave them to live their married lives together in peace.
‘Here we are, lass.’ Her father pulled Florrie out of her thoughts. She glanced out of the window to see her mum standing on the church steps with Chloe, the sun doing all it could to push its way through the clouds. Gerty was there, too, in her capacity of second bridesmaid. She was sporting a new cream collar, a basket brimming with flowers that matched Florrie’s and Chloe’s clenched between her teeth, and as usual, her tail was wagging happily.
Florrie and her dad waited for the organ to strike up, their cue to make their way down the aisle. She could see Ed up ahead at the altar, looking smart in his dark-blue suit and laughing at something Bear was saying in his ear. Suddenly, the opening notes of Wagner’s ‘Bridal Chorus’ echoed around the church, sending butterflies running amok in her stomach. Her dad gave her arm a squeeze accompanied by a proud smile before they began their slow walk down the aisle towards Ed, Florrie glancing from side to side as she went. Her heart gave a happy lilt as she spotted her friends, the women waving excitedly at her and making her giggle. In the pew behind them, she noticed Jean with Amery standing next to her in his capacity as Jean’s ‘plus one’, both looking inordinately happy. With a mix of excitement and nerves building inside her, Florrie was just a few feet away when Ed turned, his face lighting up with the widest smile, sending a tidal wave of love racing through her.
‘You look beautiful,’ he said, when she was beside him, his eyes shining with happiness.
THIRTY-EIGHT
After the initial drama, the wedding went without a hitch, much to Florrie’s relief.
A cheer rang out when the photographer finally declared that she was happy with the photos she’d taken as they’d shivered in the grounds of the church, being buffeted by a chilly breeze that was struggling to keep the rain at bay. No one wasted a moment and hurried to their cars and drove to the reception.
Upon their arrival at the bookshop tearoom, Florrie and Ed were greeted with a rousing round of applause as they took their seats at the newly created top table. Florrie glanced around her, thrilled to see the room had been given a thorough wedding makeover. The tables had been covered with crisp white tablecloths, while lengths of frothy organza were wrapped around the backs of the chairs and tied in a bow – no doubt courtesy of Lark who Florrie recalled had mentioned recently taking a delivery of such fabric. Spring flowers that matched her bouquet had been arranged in vases and placed on any available surface, with smaller versions dotted at intervals along the tables. Florrie was delighted to see the wedding favours set out on the placemats. She’d commissioned the chocolates in the shape of miniature piles of books from Becca at the Chocolate Cherub chocolatiers in Middleton-le-Moors. They’d been placed in book-shaped boxes Becca had sourced specially for Florrie and Ed’s wedding. The confectionary had luckily avoided being stranded at the Jolly since Mandy had expressed her concern about them getting damaged owing to the lack of storage space at the pub with all of the wedding paraphernalia taking up so much of it. Florrie gave a grateful smile; she’d have been so disappointed if they’d been ruined in the flood.
Adding to the wedding vibe, fairy lights were festooned from the ceiling and subtle music spilled from the speakers of the vintage radio. The mouth-watering aroma of roast dinner that permeated the air made Florrie feel suddenly ravenous.
In no time at all, plates of steaming food were placed in front of them. Gerty, who’d travelled to the bookshop in the car with Ed and Florrie, was sitting at Ed’s feet, sniffing the air appreciatively. The room was filled with upbeat chatter, punctuated with bursts of laughter. Florrie cast her gaze around – she was delighted that the last-minute change of venue hadn’t dampened anyone’s spirits or taken the edge off the day. She caught Ed’s eye and the pair exchanged happy smiles.
When it came to the dessert, Jasmine’s chocolate brownies went down a storm, especially since they had been served warm, making the centres extra gooey and luxurious, melting into the warm custard.
Once the food – which had been delicious despite it having been hurriedly prepared – had been devoured, it was time for the speeches. Florrie could feel Ed fidgeting nervously beside her. He’d told her he hadn’t officially prepared a speech nor written anything down. He was concerned his dyslexia would make him stumble over his words if he attempted to read from a sheet of paper. He’d already warned her that it might not be a particularly polished affair, but he needn’t have worried. As he spoke, it was obvious his words came straight from the heart, his love for Florrie shining through and leaving many of their guests in tears.
‘Before I sit down, I have a surprise for my beautiful wife – blimey, it feels good saying that!’ he said, making everyone,including Florrie, laugh. He turned to look at her, his eyes warm with affection. ‘So, Mrs Harte – feels pretty good saying that, too! – it’s no secret to everyone who knows you that you’ve always been a massive fan of the Brontë sisters, and thatWuthering Heightsis your favourite novel of all time. Which is why we’ll be spending our honeymoon in the Brontë’s hometown of Haworth where we’ll be visiting what was their home at the parsonage museum. We’ll also be taking the Brontë trail, including a trip to Top Withens, and generally getting all “Brontëfied” for a good few days!’
Florrie leapt to her feet and flung her arms around her new husband, planting kisses over his face in a most un-Florrie-like public display of affection. ‘Oh, Ed, thank you! I can’t think of a more wonderful way to spend our honeymoon!’ In truth, they’d had a conversation and agreed that with all of the expense they’d had in setting up the tearoom and making improvements on the bookshop, they’d forgo a honeymoon and take a holiday later when funds allowed. Little did Florrie know that Ed had been secretly planning the Brontë trip to surprise her with, knowing how much it would mean to her.
The excitement continued with the cutting of the stunning cake Jasmine had created for them. It was a three-tiered affair covered in ivory-coloured fondant icing. On the top tier was a pile of three sugar paste vintage-style books set amongst a cluster of hand-painted sugar paste spring flowers. The faux blooms continued down the side, creating a tumbling effect. ‘It’s a shame we have to cut it, Jazz,’ Florrie called to her friend.
Before long, the tables were pushed back against the walls creating space for a makeshift dance floor. Ed led Florrie to the centre of the room as Gabe Dublin’s ‘My Rose-shaped Heart’ poured from the speakers, triggering a cheer from their guests who looked on as Ed held his new wife close, the pair swaying to the music.
‘If it’s okay with you, I wouldn’t mind sneaking out for a few minutes. Won’t take long. Sorry to sound cryptic,but I’m sure you’ll understand when I tell you the reason. Bear’s not drinking so he said he’d be happy to take us in the Landie.’
‘Oh, okay,’ Florrie said, looking puzzled.
Five minutes later, Bear pulled up at a familiar place on the top prom. ‘Here you go, folks,’ he said, yanking the handbrake on. ‘Take as long as you need.’
Ed reached for a small gift bag at his feet and climbed out of the vehicle, before helping Florrie down.
Dusk was creeping in, creating a golden glow over the sky. Taking her hand, he led her over to the commemorative bench they’d sponsored for Mr and Mrs H. ‘I thought we couldn’t let our special day pass without checking in with my grandparents.’
