Luis turned to him.
‘I’ve never heard you claim that before.’
Danny replied, ‘Because we live on the top floor. And we’ve never moved.’
Jasper pretended to be pleased at their progress.
‘There we have it. Hallelujah. Finally a preference, no basements, no crypts, no subterranean caves or nuclear bunkers. To arrive at this wedding guests must ascend a flight of stairs.’
As Jasper directed them out of the first venue he added, ‘We’re learning so much about each other. Isn’t that what weddings are for?’
Jasper had intended it to sound witty but in this instance it sounded true.
Chapter NineteenCelebration or Provocation
Despite its name the Asylum Chapel in Peckham was never attached to an asylum but was part of the support system of almshouses for destitute workers. Built in the 1820s, burned out by an incendiary bomb in the Second World War, it stood ruined for decades before being converted into an event space and wedding venue. Danny admired the ruined stonework and the newly installed stained glass, making the case to Luis that it was a chapel for misfits and outsiders who never found a place of worship welcoming to them. But to Luis, it was an inversion of the churches of his childhood – a reminder that they were being offered architectural leftovers, while straight couples sanctified their love beneath gold leaf and centuries of tradition. Upon hearing Luis’s objection Jasper clapped his handstogether as though this would instantly transport them to the next venue.
At street level the entrance to the Victorian bathhouse in Bishopsgate was shaped like a submarine turret made from bricks with a spiral staircase leading down to a series of chambers lined with Arabic-motif tiles. Jasper had booked the viewing before knowing of Danny’s dislike of subterranean spaces. Nonetheless he suggested that it would be useful for them to take a tour so he could assess their reaction. Once a bathhouse of repute for city businessmen, fuel costs made it prohibitively expensive and so it had been restored for private event hire. Plenty of straight couples held their wedding receptions here without giving the connotations further thought but for a gay wedding it felt like a misjudged joke. Wasn’t marriage a way of banishing bathhouses to the past and dispelling a stereotype about gay men? Danny’s objection bothered Luis.
‘Are we getting married? Or are we running a PR campaign for the goodness of gay guys?’
Pondering seriously Danny answered, ‘Aren’t we doing both?’
On this theme, Jasper remarked, ‘I once arranged a civil ceremony here between two men in their late fifties who were marrying for the legal protections and as an excuse to throw a party. They hated the idea that they were doinganything conventional. They embraced the history of the bathhouse rather than being embarrassed by it. They decorated the venue in the fashion of a Roman emperor’s brothel. They served platters of figs and oysters and made all the guests wear togas. The couple wanted to marry but they didn’t want to take marriage so seriously. And you know what? It was a great party. I discovered that nothing melts British inhibitions faster than fortified Roman wine. Of course, some of the guests looked down on them. But that was the point. It was a provocation.’
Recoiling at the word, Luis shook his head.
‘It’s a wedding not a provocation.’
Danny observed, ‘No matter how ordinary or low-key we try to make our wedding we will always be a provocation to some people.’
From beneath the streets to high up in the skyline – the final venue was the top floor of the Swiss Re Tower, better known as the Gherkin, located in the heart of the financial centre of the City. The space was circular and surrounded by a matrix of rhomboid-shaped windowpanes offering a panoramic view. It was so sleek and science-fiction-like that it could have served as the London headquarters of a globe-trotting villain from a James Bond movie. Checking the fact sheet Jasper told them that the price was one hundred and fifty pounds per person with a minimum requirement ofeighty guests. Luis said, ‘We don’t know eighty people. Our families aren’t coming. We’re only inviting close friends.’
Danny was taken aback.
‘We know more than eighty people. Sophie and her husband plus their two kids. That’s four people. Emma, John, their kids, five, we’re at nine already.’
Luis countered, ‘Most of our gay friends aren’t married. None of them have kids. My point is that I don’t want to look across a room and not know half the people there. We did that at our engagement party.’
Embarrassed, Danny agreed. ‘We’re not going to do that again.’
But Luis wouldn’t let the issue go.
‘The idea is to stand in a room full of people who love us. Not to fill some corporate boardroom in the sky with people who are only there for the food.’
After a painful silence, Jasper stepped in.
‘The guest list is an important conversation. I’m sure you’re loved by a great many people so finding the numbers is rarely a problem. Trimming the list is the challenge. Regardless, am I to conclude that this isn’t the place for you?’
Danny nodded.
‘It doesn’t feel like us.’
Jasper agreed.
‘This place is all about the view but perhaps the view at this wedding should be the two of you.’
He ushered them close, huddling like a sports team at half-time.
