Finula swallowed hard. ‘Don’t, Daddy, you’ll set me off.’
Daddy? It had been a long time since she’d called him that. He understood her vulnerability and willed himself to be strong for his girl.
‘I’m so nervous,’ she told him, gliding down the stairs.
‘Well don’t be. There’s a man waiting in that church who loves you as much as I do,’ he said encouragingly. ‘Now would I be giving you away if that wasn’t so?’
Finula smiled. ‘No, of course not,’ then she pulled her shoulders back and stood tall.
‘That’s my girl.’ Dermot hooked his arm for Finula to hold and together they walked through the hallway, to cheers and claps from all The Templar staff, eagerly waiting to see the bride off. Christie quickly ran to them both before they got into the wedding car.
‘Good luck, enjoy every minute and we’ll be waiting for you, with the champagne flowing!’
‘Thank you, Christie.’ Finula gave a dazzling smile and waved at everyone.
Marcus was stood next to Tobias on the front row. Behind them sat Sebastian, Megan with Edward and Beatrice. His heart started to beat faster when the organ music struck up and all stood to greet the bride. Megan turned to see Finula and Dermot slowly walk up the aisle then leant forward and whispered in Marcus’ ear. ‘You’rethe luckiest man alive.’
That made him smirk. How right she was, though, he thought, when Finula joined him before the altar. His eyes pierced her. God, she looked like a Gaelic queen. He was speechless. Finula too was blown away by this tall, dark, handsome man standing proudly in a grey morning suit. Their eyes locked and they held hands.
Dermot just about managed to keep it together for the full length of the service. Sebastian, true to form, gave a wonderful reading from Mark, Chapter 10, where Jesus teaches about marriage and welcomes children, with all the expression and drama one would expect from an actor. When the priest announced them husband and wife a loud cheer and applause echoed round the church.
Walking down the aisle with his new bride on his arm, Marcus had never felt such completeness. He turned to Finula who was now looking peaceful and serene.
‘I love you, Mrs Devlin.’
‘You better,’ she replied grinning.
They were greeted with more cheers and applause, plus confetti as they walked hand in hand into The Templar. An Irish folk band played merrily on the lawn as guests chatted and circulated, ate canapés and sipped champagne. Dermot was in full flow, constantly ensuring everyone’s glass was full. He was thoroughly looking forward to making his speech and didn’t have to wait too long before Christie announced dinner was about to be served and they could all take their seats. After enjoying a banquet of carrot and coriander soup, roast beef and Yorkshire pudding, and Baileys Irish cream cake, the guests sipped coffee as they listened with anticipation whilst the groom spoke, followed by the best man. As expected, they were touching, genuine and peppered with humour. But then up stood Dermot, all eyes on him.
‘Well, when I set eyes on Finula today, the very last thing I wanted to do was give her away…’ And on he went, with humorous tales of her childhood, how together they’d coped with the loss of her mammy, how proud he was of her and how pleased he was with her choice of husband. It was met with a warm round of applause and Finula’s eyes swam with emotion.
She looked round the marquee, now softly lit with tea lights. Here, under this canopy, was every single person she loved. This had to be the happiest day of her life.
