Chapter Six – The last Saturday in June.
It was a beautiful dawn. Greg stood in his pyjama bottoms in front of the central window in the bedroom, staring out at the glow of the rising sun. By the time it went down tonight, he'd be a married man. As the thought settled in his head, he smiled, turning his head to look at the duvet-covered form still asleep in the bed behind him. On any other day, he'd have been tempted to crawl back in under the covers and wake Freddy in the way he knew she enjoyed. But not today. Today was special. Today was his last wedding day; he'd never have another. And at that thought, his stomach shimmied with excitement. Slinging a robe around his shoulders, he left the room quietly, heading to the kitchen for a bracing cup of coffee. He'd leave Freddy sleep a bit more; it was going to be a long day.
As the fragrance of freshly-made coffee filled the air, there was the sound of footsteps on the small staircase leading up for the ground floor. "Are you decent?"
"Come on up, Gwennie," Greg reached for a second mug. "I've just made coffee."
"Freddy still asleep?" Swathed in her own long dressing gown, Gwendoline took a seat, wrapping her hands around the warm china, relishing the heat.
"Yeah. There's no need to wake her just yet," Greg rubbed a hand over his stubble. He'd need a proper shave today, a real good one. "What's the first item on the agenda?"
Gwendoline smiled as she sipped the hot drink. "Nothing too dramatic," she said. "As soon as Freddy's up and about, she's coming downstairs with me until the car arrives for us at one-fifteen. I assume you've got your own plans before we meet you at the church?
Grinning, Greg ducked his head. "One or two things to get sorted, yeah," he swigged some coffee. "Sally's coming over about twelve to make sure I remembered to wear underpants and still know how to tie a tie, and then we'll be heading off to St Mary's to get there around two-ish," he stood, suddenly restless. "I think I'll treat myself to a session at the barbers this morning," he added, rubbing his jawline again.
"I'm sure you'll look absolutely splendid, dear boy," Gwendoline smiled understandingly. "And it's always a good idea to keep oneself occupied at times like this, as long as you don't overdo things; this is a day for the both of you to enjoy and remember. It should be a wonderful one for that reason alone."
Rinsing his mug under the tap, Greg spoke over his shoulder. "I've never really thanked you for all the hard work you've done for Freddy and me," he said. "Ever since the hospital, really, you've always been there for both of us and it's made things really easy to manage," he paused, meeting her eyes. "I wanted you to know that, even if I don't always say anything at the time, that all the stuff you've done for me and Freddy has been amazing, it really has and I have appreciated it all. Thank you, Gwendoline, you've been wonderful."
"Oh, such nonsense," she blinked rapidly and took a swift sip of coffee, watching through slightly misted eyes as Greg went to a small drawer and pulled out a thin flat box. "This is a little thank you from me," he added, sliding it across the table.
"Oh Gregory, my dear, there's no need, really ..."
"Yeah, there is," he said firmly. "You've been a real brick these last few months and I know I don't always do a good job of saying thank you, but maybe, when you wear this, you'll know that I hold you in very high regard."
"That's perfectly adorable of you to say, and thank you," the old woman smiled as she lifted the lid. Inside was a delicate filigree gold bracelet, hinged to be easily opened and closed. It was a beautiful piece of goldsmithing and Greg had known, as soon as he'd seen it, that it was for Gwennie.
"My goodness," she whispered, lifting the delicate bangle carefully from its velvet nest and closing it around her right wrist. The gold gleamed in the early morning sunlight. "It's absolutely exquisite, Gregory," she smiled, turning to him and patting the back of his hand. "I shall wear it today and tell everyone who asks where it came from. This is such a lovely thoughtful gift, thank you, my dear."
"What are you thanking Greg for at this time of the day?" yawning, Freddy padded into the kitchen in bare feet, lured by the scent of coffee and the sound of voices.
"For this," Gwendoline lifted her arm. "I shall wear this the entire day."
Blinking to clear her eyes of sleep, Freddy peered closer at the bracelet. "Blimey, Mummy, that's gorgeous," she smiled and turned to her fiancé. "You're such a nice man," she leaned against his body and nuzzled his chest as Greg brought an arm around to hold her against him.
"You say that now," he rumbled. "Wait until I've been out working all the hours of day and night and come home stinking of sewerage and river mud," he kissed the top of her head fondly.
"What shall I make us for breakfast?" Gwendoline sat up straight. "I have a sudden yen for pancakes."
Greg laughed. "Careful now, Gwennie or I'll have to make it a matching pair."
###
With something filling in his stomach, Greg watched, amused, as his affianced, with wildly rolling eyes, was hauled away downstairs in her dressing gown to be there when her sisters arrived from their hotel. At first, Gwendoline and Freddy had wanted them to stay in the house, but there simply wasn't sufficient furniture ready yet for a pile of visitors, and there was also Henri and little Cosette to think about as well, not that the child was all that little any more. Considering that both her parents were of medium height or less, their daughter was already showing signs of future tallness. There'd been something of a family reunion the previous night where Greg had been a little swamped by the collective Kerr joie de vivre.
Margot, the youngest at twenty-six, had flown in from Switzerland, a petite figure with the widest smile he'd seen on such a small woman. They'd hit it off immediately, her lithe form rarely still and her long brown hair tied up messily in a loose knot at the back of her head. Louise and Henri arrived at the house shortly afterwards, with their daughter running around the bare garden, imagining mazes and magical forests while the grownups chatted. Seeing the three sisters together, one could never mistake them for anything else, Greg observed, though Margot had been experimenting with her hair colour as it had long blondish streaks. Henri Cissac was a dark, quiet man, who said little, but his expression was relaxed and content and it was clear that Louise doted on him and their child.
After Freddy's forced departure and finally alone in the flat, Greg made his plans for the morning. Shower, head to the barbers, back at the house in plenty of time to get dolled up before Sally arrived for her final inspection, before they headed off to Harrow in plenty of time for pre-ceremony jitters. About to lay out his new suit on the bed together with the snazzy waistcoat she'd picked out for him, he realised his sergeant's insistence that he get something new to wear had been the right thing to do. The thought of going to his wedding in anything less than his smartest would have been to lessen all the work that Gwennie had done for them both. He sniffed the boutonnieres she'd left for him and Sally on the kitchen table: a hint of green leaf, with semi-open white roses nestled inside a few tiny white flowers, star-like and almost without fragrance.
Freddy had tidied up before she left and, lying on his side of the bed, was a carefully-wrapped package. A small card bearing his name lay on the top and he found himself smiling again. Ripping into the careful wrapping, Greg pulled out two pairs of thick socks. Looking more closely, he laughed as he saw the words 'for cold feet' knitted into both of them. Packed in between the two pairs was a small box, with yet another card. Inside the box was an antique pair of silver and mother-of-pearl cufflinks which would go perfectly with his new shirt.
I love you, she'd written on the card. He felt his insides tremble with a strange emotional response and he had to take a couple of deep breaths to settle himself. At this rate, Gwennie wouldn't be the only one having a bit of a weep at the wedding. Clearing his throat, Greg scowled at himself in the mirror in a manly fashion and headed for the shower.
Dressing quickly in light, casual gear, he ran quietly down the back staircase and out through the garden doors at the rear of the downstairs kitchen. He had no idea what might be going on in the ground floor apartment with all the Kerr women and he had no intention of interrupting them. Hopping into the BMW, he headed over to Luli's in Tachbrook Street, the place still mostly empty because of the early hour. The two barbers, Joss and Micha, were still in the process of getting things ready for customers when Greg walked in wearing a big grin.
"Morning lads," he looked around the bright shop and grinned even harder, a feeling of incredible happiness welling up in his chest. "I'm getting married this afternoon and I'd appreciate having the works please," he looked at himself in one of the large wall mirrors and scratched his face. "I need a decent shave at the very least."
The men smiled broadly, laughing at his obvious good humour and, after seating him in one of the vastly comfortable red leather chairs, went about getting him ready for his big day. Feeling himself relax under the steamy hot towels on his face, Greg closed his eyes and drifted under the chatter of weddings and football and the latest political scandal as his face was rubbed and brushed and oiled and finally shaved with an old fashioned open razor. In fact, he was shaved twice before his jaw was rinsed of any traces of soap and a cooling balm smoothed over his skin. Stroking his fingertips down one cheek, Greg realised he'd not had a shave this close for years. He hoped Freddy would like it.
As he was sitting in the chair, wrapped in a towel, Joss came back at him with an electric razor and touched up the hair at the nape of his neck and around his ears, not that he really needed a haircut.
"In case you need any of these for later," Joss winked outrageously, laughing as he slipped a handful of condoms into Greg's pocket.
Grinning and shaking his head, Greg left a tip as he paid and headed back out to the car. Checking his watch, he was surprised to see it was barely ten o'clock. Sally wasn't coming over to the house for another two hours and the idea of sitting all alone in the flat, twiddling his thumbs gave him the heebie-jeebies. Deciding to go for a coffee and something light to eat, knowing he probably wouldn't be eating much until dinner that night. He and Freddy had decided to spend their wedding night at the Connaught in Mayfair where their luggage for Scotland was already waiting for them.
Freddy had wanted their first married night to be away from the Pimlico house to mark it as even more special that it already would be and Greg had been delighted to fall in with her plans. After a night of luxury, they were booked onto the ten-fifteen from Victoria to Coldstream, where they'd be met by one of Freddy's Scottish cousins. Following several phone calls and emails, they'd decided to book a tiny, one-bedroom cottage just out of the centre of Kelso itself. And then they'd have nearly a fortnight in Border country to do with as they pleased.
Greg smiled to himself again as he drove around the corner to Charlwood Place and parked opposite a proper Italian coffee shop where they made the creamiest cappuccino and a range of unspeakably sticky cakes. He was in the mood to indulge himself a little and sat for a while, sipping his frothy coffee, nibbling something sweet with ginger and dark chocolate in it. He felt enormously at peace with the world and so full of happy excitement, he could barely keep a smile off his face. He wanted to tell everyone in the café that he was getting married that very afternoon to an amazing woman, but somehow managed to keep a lid on things as he finished his coffee. Checking the time, he realised he still had an hour to spare but couldn't think of anything else to do, so he headed back to the house.
Re-entering the flat as quietly as he'd left, he heard no noises from downstairs, but then, he'd made sure the building had been well insulated in the thick walls and floors. He smiled to himself, imagining the kind of things the women were probably up to. Heading straight to his bedroom, he took a deep breath and waited for his heart rate to calm, which it seemed to have no intention of doing. Right then. Two could play at that game. Walking back into the kitchen, he yanked the fridge open and pulled out one of several bottles of champagne that had been chilling for days in case someone felt like a celebratory drink. Given that it was his wedding day and that he appeared to be as giddy as a schoolgirl, he felt now was the perfect occasion. Popping the bottle with a carefree twist of his wrist, he poured out a glass of the icy fizz and took a sip. It was brilliant. In fact, everything was brilliant this morning. Alone in his kitchen, Greg smiled at nothing in particular until his face hurt.
Deciding to have another quick shower, he nevertheless took care over his ablutions, striding back into the bedroom in a sudden rush to get ready even though Sally wasn't due for another half-hour at the earliest. Dressing himself in new togs from the skin up, he remembered Freddy's gift and carefully twisted her cufflinks into place. They looked very distinguished, he thought. The trousers fit him well, though maybe a little more loosely around the waist than before. He grinned again, taking another swig of champagne. The palest yellow silk tie whispered around his neck with the greatest of ease, followed by the embroidered silk-grey waistcoat dotted with the merest suggestion of tiny white flowers. Pausing, he looked in the long cheval mirror for the first time and stopped dead. The man in the reflection was very different from the one he remembered seeing a year ago. This one seemed lighter somehow, more together. Happier. He smiled at himself and knocked back the last of the fizzy.
"Anyone at home?" Sally Donovan's voice echoed from the top of the stairwell.
"In here, getting dressed," Greg called back, tying his shined black shoes and collecting the suit jacket before heading into the kitchen.
"Well, wow, if I say so myself," Sally looked impressed at her DCI's wedding ensemble, even though she'd helped him with the choosing of it.
"You've scrubbed up pretty well too, for a Best Person," Greg assessed Donovan's rich wine dress and fine silk jacket. Her hair was up, tied with a heavy silk ribbon the same colour as the dress. "You look very grand," he grinned at her. "Looks like everyone's going to be done up to the nines today."
"Yeah well," Sally frowned slightly as she checked him over. "Let's have a proper look," she said. "Put your jacket on."
"Yes, Mum," he slid into the jacket and shook it straight.
"You want me to pin this on?" Sally asked, holding up one of the boutonnieres.
"Yeah, better you than me. I've got a bad case of the fidgets this morning." Greg felt his heart thump again with excitement.
"Got everything you need? Clean hanky?" Donovan pinned the other flower onto her own jacket lapel and folded Greg's white handkerchief neatly into his breast pocket. Sliding her hand into her own pocket, she brought out a small box which she opened for his inspection. Two plain gold wedding rings nestled in white velvet. "Got your wallet? Give me your phone," she added, holding out her hand. "I'll give it you back at the reception, assuming you'll want it back, of course?" she grinned slyly.
"You got plenty of petrol in your waggon?" Greg felt his heart rate ratchet up another level as he realised it was nearly time for them to be heading off. "I really don't want to be late for my own wedding because we're out of juice."
"Yeah; filled up on the way here," Sally looked around. "We've still got a bit of time before we have to go. Want to give me a tour of the place?' she stared around curiously.
"Of course, yeah, sorry," Greg took a deep breath and headed back to the fridge where he unearthed the opened bottle of champagne. "I'm going to have a glass of this," he said. "Want one?"
"I'm driving," Sally shook her head, then smiled. "But maybe I can have a sip of yours."
"Yeah, sorry. Forgot," Greg shook his head and wondered why he felt so flustered all of a sudden. "Come on then," he waved her towards the main central passage of the apartment. "Let me show you around."
###
Freddy was sure she'd heard a car arrive and then leave nearly an hour later. She smiled; that would be Sally Donovan taking care of her part of the day. Greg was driving up to Harrow in Sally's car and after the wedding, they'd return to London by whatever means her mother had arranged.
"You look like a fairy princess, Tante Frédérique," Cosette twirled joyously in her new bridesmaid's dress. In pale yellow chiffon, the child was a froth of sunshine.
"And you look very pretty too, mon poussin," Freddy smiled back, standing impatiently as Louise straightened her long veil for the umpteenth time.
"God, Freddy, you look stunning." Her younger sister had always been the kind one in the family. "Your man's not going to be able to look at anyone else today."
"That is the general idea," Gwendoline bustled over, a picture in aquamarine silk and gold jewellery, fussing over things that Louise had been fussing over for the last five minutes. "Oh, but you do look lovely, Freddy," she said finally, stepping back and admiring her eldest child. "Now, the cars should be here soon with Henri, so can everyone have a final check that we have everything they need for the rest of the day?" The sisters rolled their eyes at each other as Louise took her daughter off to the bathroom one last time.
"You really do look fabulous, Sis," Margot pinned up her hair yet again. "God, I wish I'd never washed this today; it refuses to behave at all," she grumbled.
"Leave it down, my love," Gwendoline looked pleased at how her family had turned out. "You'll be charming either way."
The sound of car engines arrived at the front of the house, followed shortly by the front door opening and Henri's voice announcing their chariots had arrived.
Having no real idea what to expect, Freddy made her careful way to the door and out onto the steps. A pair of shining black Rolls-Royce Silver Clouds, enormous things, complete with broad white wedding ribbons, rumbled softly in the driveway. They looked astonishing.
"Mummy," Freddy whispered, awed by the magnificence of the gleaming vehicles, their sleek and sweeping lines a hallmark of sheer luxury. "What did you have to sell to organise these for today?"
"Mr Lewis has a friend in the wedding car business," Gwendoline smiled, delighted. "It was his idea, actually."
Ushering her two younger daughters and Henri in the second car, Gwendoline helped Freddy into the first vehicle, ensuring her dress remained unmarked and uncreased. Cosette joined them, thrilled to be sitting on a special fold-down seat in the middle of the car. After ensuring the main house gates were locked, the two cars began their gentle peregrination towards Harrow. Though she said nothing, Freddy felt a little like royalty as people on the pavements stopped and watched the impressive wedding entourage wind its way out of London.
###
For a Saturday, the roads out of town were surprisingly empty of traffic, possibly because it was such a lovely day, everyone had decided to head for the coast, leaving the inland roads less crowded than usual. Greg was glad Sally was driving as he was having the worst case of a racing pulse and sweaty palms.
"You feeling alright?" Sally kept her eyes on the road ahead, but she couldn't help but notice Greg's predicament. He seemed a little pale. "Want me to find the nearest service station and toilet?"
Taking a slow deep breath, Greg made himself relax. "I'm just a bit excited," he confessed sheepishly. "I can't wait to see her."
Smiling, Donovan shook her head at her DCI's complete lack of cool. "There's plenty of time," she said. "Practice some breathing exercises before you implode or something." For the remainder of the drive to St Mary's, Greg did his best to get his emotions under control though he'd have been the first to admit he wasn't doing a terribly good job of it.
They pulled into a packed carpark outside the church, with cars lining the side street and some of them even half-up on the kerb. Had Greg not recognised several of the vehicles as belonging to Yarders, he thought the local plods would have had a field day.
"Christ," he muttered, getting out of Sally's car and looking around at the mass of vehicles, some of them pretty swanky. "Looks like Gwennie's invited half the county."
"Let's get you inside then," Sally patted him on the arm. "And let you have a chat with the vicar while you're waiting."
Reverend Polglaze was already waiting at the main entrance dressed in pristine vestments of white and gold, a pleased smile on his face. "I thought you might be arriving about now," he said, checking his watch, confirming the time. "Do you want to come and sit in the vestry for a little while, or go straight in to the front seat?"
Taking another deep breath as his pulse headed north once again, Greg squared his shoulders. It was about time his brain took charge. "I think I may as well go and sit in the front and wait," he said, looking sideways at Sally. "You okay with that?"
"Ready when you are, Boss," she laughed softly. Showtime.
###
As the car travelled down roads she was beginning to recognise, Freddy felt her pulse start to thump. They were nearly there. It was almost time. She swallowed in a dry throat.
"There'll be one or two photographers waiting, I expect," Gwendoline glanced out of the car window. "The papers would undoubtedly have heard about such a high-profile wedding."
Her mother's words almost lost in the sudden thunder of her heart as the grand car they were in swung into a slow majestic circle almost directly in front of the church. Her mother was wrong. There were four photographers, apart from the official wedding photographer, waiting in the grassy churchyard beside the stone pathway.
Looking around, Freddy felt close to tears as she took in the mass of flowers and long white ribbons everywhere; adorning every gate and pillar, even the outside of the church's main entrance. Her favourites; white scabiosa, white roses, Stephanotis and the sweet fragrance of white Sweet Pea, exactly the same as her wedding bouquet. Her mother had done all this ...
"It's all so beautiful, Mummy," she whispered. "It makes me want to cry."
"No crying just yet, dear," Gwendoline patted her shoulder as she straightened Freddy's long veil. "Gregory will think you've changed your mind."
The official photographer had Freddy and Cosette and Gwendoline stand in various poses as Henri went inside to give Greg, the vicar and the organist the nod. Finally, all the preliminary photos were done.
"Ready, darling?" Gwendoline squeezed her daughter's hand, and looked down at little Cosette who wore the biggest grin as she held her own small posy of flowers. Walking to the church entrance, Freddy took a deep breath, stiffened her spine and lifted her chin, reaching across to hold her mother's fingers.
From playing Bach, the organ began the processional music, Mouret's Rondeau as had been agreed, the lovely lilting strains joyful and happy, yet still solemn and traditional. Her emotions whirling between pride and excitement and happiness at being here, in this place, on this day, Freddy walked down the aisle holding her mother's hand, as every soul in the packed church stood and every face turned to welcome the bride.
###
Greg heard distant murmuring and turned his head just enough to see Henri stride down the aisle to nod both at him and the vicar who in turn, gestured to the organist in the organ loft. There was a distinct and palpable change in the atmosphere as the music moved smoothly from one lot of classical music into something entirely different, something more important. Even without looking, Greg knew that Freddy had arrived at the entrance of the church. He swallowed convulsively, his heart pounding and his throat dry like a desert. He'd not been this nervy at his first wedding, so why he was having an attack of the vapours today, he had no clue.
Moving across to the centre of the nave, directly in front of the alter, Reverend Polglaze gestured for Greg to stand, just as the rest of the congregation rose silently to their feet and the organist kept the music coming. Unable to wait a single second longer, Greg turned his head to watch his bride approach, his whole body shivering at the sight.
She looked like a dream, something from a dream. All in white, a small figure in a long white dress, so simple and yet so beautiful, a long veil held to her dark hair with a tiara of pearls and pearls at her throat. Greg's eyes focused on Freddy's face to meet her burning gaze as she walked sedately towards him.
His brain processed flashes of other things: the pleasure and pride on Gwennie's face; the perfume of massed flowers decorating every part of the church; the bright colours of the women's finery, Donovan's murmured words at his side ... but he could only deal with these distractions in shifting moments as his entire focus was on the woman who had come here today to marry him and love him and keep him for the rest of his life. He swallowed again as his eyes fogged. Freddy.
She had forgotten just how terribly handsome Greg looked when he wanted to impress, Freddy felt his eyes on her as soon as she walked towards the front of the church. Only a few more steps and ... She looked directly towards him and felt an incredible desire to laugh and cry and smile and to run to him; the expression on his face one of bewildered delight as he stood there for her, so tall, so self-possessed. And he would be all hers now, hers forever.
As she drew level with him at the front of the alter, Freddy felt she was in a dream, handing her bouquet to Cosette who danced away to sit at her mother's side.
Greg watched, dazed almost, as Gwendoline passed him Freddy's right hand and stepped close to kiss his cheek before she too took her seat.
And then it was just the two of them and the Reverend Polglaze who spoke for a little while, his words brushing the edges of their happiness. There was singing of something and more words, a reading of some kind. There were questions and Greg remembered saying things he'd said once before, a very long time before, but this time, each syllable burned as he voiced them, his every response carved into stone as soon as they were spoken. And then there were rings in his hand, rings he placed in the pages of an open book. And he was holding Freddy's hand and sliding one of the rings onto her finger and then she slid a ring onto his hand and it was done.
"In the presence of God, and before this congregation, Gregory and Frederica have given their consent and made their marriage vows to each other. They have declared their marriage by the joining of hands and by the giving and receiving of rings. I therefore proclaim that they are husband and wife ..."
Gazing down into the brilliantly happy face of the woman who'd filled his heart before he'd known anything about it, Greg smiled, dazed, as Freddy stood on tiptoe and kissed him. Of their own accord, his arms slid around her body and held her close as he kissed her back, gently and with respect for the wonder that she had brought him today.
As their embrace eased apart and their arms relaxed, Greg felt suddenly and wholly at ease for the first time in days, a warm heaviness, as he and Freddy turned together to look once again at the people around them.