Another laugh.
‘Or maybe you thought we wanted our marriage to be all over Instagram, but that’s not it either – although don’t forget “hashtag Ali and Nat forever”.’
‘She’s good,’ Reshma murmured.
‘Actually, it’s the opposite. We wanted our wedding to be a reminder that there are bigger things in the world than us and that’s why we’re getting married: to face our challenges together, to be each other’s second sword. Yes, I love Nat to bits and by some miracle, he loves me too. But getting married isn’t only about that bond. I loved him yesterday, today – and I’ll still love him tomorrow.
‘Many of you will know that Nat’s mum lost her battle with COPD last year.’ Alison’s hand shot out to clutch her fiancé’s shoulder and he grasped it in return. ‘At that time, we talked a lot about next of kin and through the saddest time in his life, we decided we wanted to get married after all.’
Reshma’s sigh was almost a huff and she couldn’t quite hide the knuckle she lifted to dab at her eye. ‘I didn’t expect there’d be a fucking sob story with this one.’
Toni watched, clear-eyed, cynicism warring with bitterness with a confused layer of perplexed approval on top. Naïve as they might be, they were getting married for the right reasons.Next of kin. How those words haunted her.
‘Maybe this one is reason number three after all,’ Reshma whispered. ‘Every damn wedding gets to me!’
Alison continued. ‘The setting sun is the end of one day. It brings the night, when our fears come out, but in a sunset is also always the promise of a sunrise, a world that keeps on turning.’
The guests broke into spontaneous applause and Toni sucked in a much-needed breath. Darting her gaze away from the glowing bride, she found Gabri standing in the doorway to the kitchen, staring right back at her.
‘But really, the most important thing for me to say,’ Alison called out over the hubbub of excited guests, ‘is thank you for coming. Thank you to the amazing team at I Do for making all of this happen – even the weird wedding ceremony in the middle of the meal. We’ll see you down on the beach soon and… hold onto your hats!’
The wind died down fifteen minutes before the ceremony. Not soon enough to save Aunt Thelma’s wrap, which would probably wash up on the shore tomorrow morning, but soon enough to spare Nathaniel and the groomsmen the kilt’s greatest indignity.
Gabri just had time to add water to all of the sponges and replace a few blooms that were looking ragged or missing altogether after the day’s westerly. He kept his mind on the jobas much as he could, despite the awareness of Toni behind him, battling the drapes.
Their conversation yesterday evening had opened him up wide and suddenly, there was an empty space where his finely balanced contentment had been. He’d made such an effort to shed life’s complexities, but other people were complicated, so he’d shed those too.
Until Toni.
He’d spent half their time together convincing her he didn’t do responsibility. Her whole life was about responsibility. He almost wished he’d never discovered what it felt like to have her eyes on him – in curiosity, in anger, in affection. He should never have touched her. All he had now was proof of how lonely he’d really been.
Usually, he just delivered the flowers and left long before the ceremony and he’d never realised how wise that approach was. Ever since the bride had delivered her speech, he’d been itchy, his thoughts vacillating between Rosa and Toni, along with a prick of guilt about how long it had been since he’d phoned his mother.
He wasn’t built for all the soft feelings of weddings. He didn’t even know Alison and Nathaniel and yet he already suspected he’d be sobbing into his cuffs by the end of the ceremony.
Job done, he was planning to head off quietly, but Toni had disappeared up the steps and the thought of leaving without saying goodbye to her made his stomach twist, so he took up a position under the spreading canopy of an Aleppo pine where the rocky hillside met the beach and waited for whatever emotional damage this event would inflict on him.
It was easy to believe the sun had been ordered especially for the wedding, but Alison’s speech had reminded everyone it was the other way around and he was proud of his adopted home island for putting on such a spectacular show. The goldenhighlights on his floral masterpieces completed the scene as the celebrant took up her position behind the lectern and Nathaniel tugged nervously at his sleeves.
At a discreet signal from Reshma, the violin trio started up and then Alison appeared at the top of the steps down to the beach – with his stunning bouquet of peach carnations, burgundy protea and antique roses.
Perhaps there were some small positives in attending the ceremony.
When Toni appeared after her, making the final adjustments to the veil, the thump in his chest told him yet again he wasn’t ready to say goodbye. But what could he say to herexceptgoodbye?
Alison made her way up the aisle with her bridesmaids in pink satin dresses. The lovers’ beach was the site of a new story tonight. Perhaps in his experience, happily ever after was a myth, happiness ‘for now’ was all he could hope for, but he had a sense that this moment would stretch through their lives, that they’d remember it every time they watched the sunset from wherever they were in the world.
He sincerely hoped Alison and Nathaniel would grow to love this sunset – and each other – more each year. But Gabri was collecting reminders of things that had slipped through his fingers. He’d married Rosalba with an untested heart and walked away when he couldn’t hold her together.
Toni was built differently. He didn’t know what she’d been like at her own wedding, but now, with the marks of tears and laughter on her face, that dark scar on her belly and the sunlight of the isola touching her skin, she was devastatingly beautiful.
He wanted to keep writing to her, the way he’d enjoyed her messages before, but how could that be enough now he knew what her laugh sounded like and how it felt when she teased himand gave him one of her doubtful looks? How could it not hurt to contact her, but not be near her?
The celebrant’s short address was over before Gabri had taken in a word and then the groomsman was producing the ring. After a short musical interlude from the violin trio, it was time for the sunset – and the marriage vows.
His skin prickled with the memories of his own wedding in a church, with Rosalba under a lace veil and a thicker layer of innocence.
But he was distracted from the business end of the wedding by movement out of the corner of his eye. Toni was heading away from the ceremony, her brow knit, her phone screen alight with a call. Sparing him a glance as she hurried past, she connected the call when she reached the stairs.
