Lydia, Tim and Jemima walk towards us, Lydia wearing an enormous hat that is going to annoy the people behind her.
‘Ollie invited us,’ Lydia says. ‘Not sure why, after that meal. But he apologised and asked us to come.’
‘Seemed the right thing to do,’ Ollie says.
‘I wouldn’t miss free champagne.’ Jemima holds up a fizzing glass of champagne, beaming.
‘There was free champagne?’ I ask.
‘Aye, have mine,’ Tim says. ‘I don’t like the stuff.’
I take the flute and savour the fizz as I sip. There is nothing more serene than ice-cold champagne on a hot day when you’re about to marry your ex to someone else.
Music swells, a slowed-down version of ‘Lay All Your Love On Me’ played by an orchestral band. I think of that walk with Sam right at the start of my trip. The buzz of the crowd dims. Alec appears at the top of the colosseum, and walks down the stairs alone. All eyes on him.
He’s dashing in his smart shirt, his flowing pleated shorts, his spotless loafers.
At the altar, he looks at me, his grin falling ever so slightly, but his eyes alight. ‘Thank you,’ he whispers to me, his back to the audience.
‘You look absolutely beautiful.’
Ollie. Alec. Their wedding day.
This is it.
Silence stretches around us, except for the sound of birds in thedistance. My heart pounds, my mouth running dry. I taste the champagne I sipped from Tim’s glass, wishing I’d downedthe whole thing. Summoning a new-found courage, I project my voice.
‘Good morning, everyone, and thank you for joining us on this glorious day,’ I say. ‘We’re here to witness the marriage of Ollie Pankhurst and Alec Aniston.’
Ollie smiles at Alec, and Alec smiles back.
The apprehension I felt about coming to the wedding is slowly absorbed by the sun, and like a plant, I can feel myself growing. With every word of the ceremony, the two men before me get lost in one another. Alec wipes a tear. Ollie’s lip quivers. I know this was the right thing to do.
Ollie and Alec hover before me, waiting for my final words.
I meet Ollie’s eye.
‘You may now kiss your groom.’
This whole time, I dreaded this moment.
The old me would have stood up, shouted stop, and objected until the goddesses heard me.
The old me may have fainted, or declared my love for Ollie for everyone to hear.
But no objection comes to mind.
I don’t even avert my eyes as Ollie and Alec kiss, attracting cheers and applause from the crowd, and the snap, snap, snap of photographers. I applaud, smiling, elated at what I’ve done. This is happiness. The rings on their fingers glint in the sun, their lips locked. They break away, laughing, ecstatic that after all this time they are bonded. Tears prick my eyes, and I wipe them away.
Ollie looks at me, and I hold up my thumbs.
‘You did it,’ I say.
‘Thank God,’ he replies.
He goes to hug me, but I stiffen. He settles for a friendly thumbs up, and I wipe my tears once more.
The band plays ‘Lover’ by Taylor Swift, and the happy couple begin making their way out of the odeon, hand in hand, confetti fluttering over them. My smile aches, my heart slow.
