‘In your mind too?’
‘In my mind? No, Luis. I want what is in my mind and in my heart to exist out there, in the world – that’s what I want.’
Black Rabbit Farm was a thirty-minute cab ride from Hatfield station and the taxi driver, having driven many guests to weddings there, asked who was getting married, incapable of imagining it could be the two men sitting in the back of his cab. Flatly, Danny answered: ‘We are.’
Embarrassed by his mistake the driver told them how beautiful the farm was and how wonderful their wedding would be. Danny didn’t speak again until they arrived at the farm while Luis made small talk with the driver to smooth over the awkwardness.
Stepping out of the taxi, Danny’s bad mood was eased by the sight of his surroundings. At the end of a driveway was a limestone farmhouse. The walls were constructed from hand-cut stone held together with mortar, toppedwith a grey slate roof, spotted with patches of moss and wildflowers. Crooked and uneven, the fairytale building was sheltered by an alliance of ash trees. Walking forward to greet them were the owners, a couple in their early fifties, both in excellent shape with lustrous hair and lean figures. It was hard to know if they drew their health from the farm or if the farm drew its health from them. They hugged Danny and Luis with as much affection as if they were long-lost relatives. The wife was called Beth. The husband was called Noah. As they walked around the farm the couple shared their life story. They had been employed by Barings Bank, one of Britain’s oldest merchant banks which, after two hundred years of profit and prosperity, collapsed into bankruptcy because of a rogue trader. Unemployed at the same time, they sold their home in Greenwich and ploughed all their money into restoring Black Rabbit Farm, making this land both their home and their livelihood, not from farming but by hosting events, from indie music festivals to weddings. They rewilded the fields and cleaned up the lake, once choked by algae and discarded scrap, now home to carp and bream. They built a walled garden using the traditional dry-stone methods where they had planted herbs and vegetables.
The threshing barn was the central space for the celebrations, far larger than the actual farmhouse, with sliding doors that could be opened if the weather was fine. Thoughit had been extensively renovated, the original timber beams remained. It looked like a cross between an ancient barn and an avant-garde theatre. Beth commented, ‘Our chairs and tables are from a furniture maker in St Albans. Our florist uses flowers grown locally. We serve seasonal food, English sparkling wine from Cornwall, fruit from the local orchards.’
Working as a team, even in conversation, Noah added, ‘We don’t want to sound prescriptive or pretentious. This is your day. You pick the food, the music; you want more flowers, less flowers – whatever you want. But this farm has a soul and a character and the closer we stay to that natural character the better the event turns out.’
Surprised that both Danny and Luis were so subdued, Beth suggested, ‘Let’s show you the wedding forest.’
On the edge of ancient woodland was a newly planted area of trees that they referred to as the wedding forest. Noah pointed to the copper name plaques on the trunks.
‘We plant a tree for each marriage we host. We moved here at the end of 1996 and opened for business two years later. To date we’ve planted over two hundred trees. Some couples who married over a decade ago have returned and we’ve hosted anniversary dinners for them.’
Walking through this forest dedicated to different love stories, Danny found the oldest tree which had been planted in the summer of 1998. He gestured at Luis.
‘This could’ve been our tree.’
It wasn’t clear if they were planning a missed wedding or an unheralded anniversary or some fusion of the two. Beth said, ‘Jasper phoned before you arrived. He’s one of the best wedding planners in the business. We only have one weekend available next summer and that’s down to a recent cancellation. I’m afraid we have no flexibility on the date, Saturday, 20 July. If you like the place, we’d love to host your wedding. We’re sure we could put on a great celebration for you guys.’
Noah agreed.
‘We’ll give you some time to talk alone. We’ll be in the farmhouse. Stop by when you’re ready.’
After Noah and Beth left Danny turned to Luis.
‘What do you think?’
Luis hadn’t moved from the base of the oldest marriage tree. He placed his hand against the trunk.
‘I think we’re getting married in July.’
Chapter Twenty-OneSave the Date
Once they confirmed the venue and paid the deposit of four thousand pounds, the largest single payment Danny and Luis had made together since the purchase of their apartment, the wedding began to take shape. When he closed his eyes, Danny could now visualize the event including where they might say their vows. He had already picked out a possible spot by the lake. After they exchanged rings, they would dine and dance in the barn.
Excited by the plans, Danny woke early one stormy Sunday morning to complete the stack of ‘Save the Date’ cards. He sat at the kitchen table dressed in sweatpants and an orange hoodie with only candles for light. For him, writing out the names of their guests was ceremonial rather than a chore – a ledger of all the people they loved in theirlife. By his side was a plate of peanut butter toast and a pot of tea. Jasper had advised him that the ‘Save the Date’ cards shouldn’t steal the thunder from the formal invitations.
Luis & Daniel
Kindly request that you
Save the Date
Saturday 20th July 2013
Invitations to Follow
Taking care over his handwriting, Danny practised each of the guests’ names on a sheet of paper before committing them to card, rejecting any with even the slightest imperfection. Breaking his promise to be frugal he had opted for expensive stationery, selecting a heavier textured vellum and unusual sage-green envelopes, adding a commemorative London 2012 Olympics stamp to each even though he was the only one who knew how important the ceremony had been to his decision to propose.
While studying examples of other couples’ cards Danny discovered that many ‘Save the Date’ cards included a photograph of the couple. It had prompted a discussion between Danny and Luis as to whether they should choose a photoof the two of them. When they moved in together Danny had bought a 35mm Nikon camera to chronicle the transformation of their apartment. It was the only album he had created during their life together. But it seemed weird to use a photo from such a long time ago. Luis took photos when they went hiking using a slim Olympus Infinity camera which he slipped into his shirt pocket. He stored the prints in a shoebox, each adventure bundled together and bound by a rubber band. As they sorted through them, they noticed that they had never taken a photo where the entire point was simply to celebrate the two of them. Struck by this fact they attempted a portrait of themselves as a couple. Using the timer on Luis’s iPhone they tried various poses, solemn, smiling, their arms around each other or by their sides, but the results appeared stilted. After many attempts they gave up. Danny comforted himself with the fact that at the wedding there would be a professional photographer tasked with capturing the two of them together.
Shortly after he had finished the last card, it started pouring with rain. Woken by the storm Luis entered the kitchen, noticing the stacks of green envelopes on the table.
