Some weeks before, the Platoon had been busy with rifle cleaning in the Church Hall. It wasn't generally something Wilson enjoyed doing – after all, it got so dirty –but it was welcome respite from Mavis that evening, who'd been quite unmanageable since she found out that Mrs Hodges had a new dress for the occasion.

'…and so you see, Jonesy,' he continued, '…I told her she looked perfectly nice in that blue dress she wore to yours, but she won't have it…'

He sighed. There was nothing for it but to give her half his Clothing Book too.

'Yes, well, ladies like looking nice, Mr Wilson. I always remember when I was in the North West Frontier, there was this Mogul's daughter, and she was getting married, and did you know they wear red getting married out there…?'

'Yes, I do seem to remember hearing that.'

'Well, she was all in red and gold, you know, they wear a lot of gold, them Mogul ladies…'

'What do the men wear?' Pike asked then. 'Do they dress different too?'

'Course they do, Pikey boy,' Jones replied. 'Couldn't have a Mogul prince dressed like what we would…'

Pike was quiet as the tale of the Indian wedding continued, before inspiration struck.

'Hey!' he exclaimed suddenly, looking round at them all. 'You remember when we was all dressed up as cut-throats and desparados?'

'Yes?' Mainwaring looked up at him dubiously, not sure where he was going with this.

'Well, why don't I wear that? You know, that suit I wore? It looked nice!'

'You covered it in chalk, you stupid boy!' Mainwaring would be glad when this wedding was over and his junior clerk was hopefully able to focus on something other than that blasted girl again.

'Well, yeah…' A familiar, slightly sulky look crossed the boy's face. 'But that's part of the costume! I could wear that, couldn't I, Uncle Sergeant?'

'Really, Frank? You really want to wear that...?'

'Yeah! Not uniform, 'cause me and you don't have any medals, do we, Mr Mainwaring?'

Having ignored all the advice to the contrary, Pike was kept quite busy on the morning of his wedding carefully lining his suit with chalk, and found his other hat with the white band. That looked good. It reminded him of the daydream he had every so often that he'd met Sylvia in some bar in downtown Chicago too, in some long, glittery dress with feathers in her hair and was this married to the Mob moll who dumped some big boss to run off with him…

It had taken some intervention; clearly pointing out that he would be expected to take his new bride's hand at some point, to convince him that the Tommy Gun really wasn't a good idea.

'Frank!' Mavis's nerves were strained already. 'What on Earth have you done to that suit?'

'Good, innit?' Mum, this is what we wore as cut-throats and desparados!'

Mavis (in her new dress) rolled her eyes and sighed.

'Well, it's too late now! We've got to be in there in half an hour!'

Coming to pick her up in his van, Hodges couldn't help but feel a certain amount of pride on his brother's behalf as Sylvia came out, some flowers from the garden in her hand. It was the wrong boy, of course it was, but she did look happy.

'You sure about this?' He had to ask, even so.

Sylvia sighed. 'Course I am.'

Hodges grimaced slightly. Now Stan had gone, he had the last job he would have wanted – giving his own flesh and blood away to a lad he couldn't stand, but there was nothing to be done about it. She was 21, she wasn't even his, and that was the end of it. Ada had made that quite clear and the look in her eyes as she followed her daughter out made it clearer still.

There was quite a crowd gathered at the church, with the whole Platoon, including Walker and a new young lady, various distant Westcountry relatives and Pike's Auntie Beryl from Scotland, and some blonde girl. Probably a cousin from Weston or something, Pike guessed, too nervous to really care about chatting with relatives he hardly knew. They'd been picked up by Mr Blewitt ('I been chauffeur to Lady Maltby for thirty years, man an' boy…') and Mavis had been dabbing at her eyes all the way there.

'Frank?' she asked, catching his arm.

'Mum?'

She looked at him, an odd mix of a young lad playing dress-up and man about to get married.

'She will look after you, won't she?' It was every bit as difficult as she'd expected, and the worst was yet to come.'

'Yeah.' He smiled, but it was quite sad too, in a way. 'Course she will.'

Mavis nodded, and clutched at Wilson's arm then, as if she needed the support, and followed him in.

The church was busy inside, and Pike wasn't sure what to do.

''Ere Pikey!' Walker called just then, looking back down the aisle. 'Up 'ere!'

'Is that where I sit?' Pike looked to his mother and Uncle for confirmation.

Wilson nodded. 'Go on, Frank.' He was undoubtedly proud of Mavis's boy today, but there was someone else here he had to talk to before she left…and there she was…at the back there.

'All right, mate?' Walker had been proud to act as Best Man, acquiring not only the car, but also some wine for the Reception and another present he'd have to make sure the lad didn't show his Mum.

'Yeah…just hope she turns up.' She could have changed her mind, Pike worried, much like he had just before that first time they went out, or Hodges could have convinced her not to, he added suspiciously. There was a real possibility that he would try, and she was really pretty, and could probably marry anyone…

'Yeah, course she will!' Walker asserted breezily. 'Oh yeah, an' I got your car!'

'Oh good, 'cause we got to pick up some stuff from the Church Hall before we go!'

'What stuff?' Walker was puzzled.

Pike looked round, considered telling him, and decided against it. 'I can't tell you – it's a secret!'

At a loss to understand what game he appeared to be playing, Walker thought it best to leave him to it, and checked he had the ring Wilson had given him.

'Joe?' The other man looked up.

'I don't have to learn the bagpipes, do I?'

'What? Why?'

'Well, you remember when Mr Mainwaring was piping in the haggis? He said that's what he did on his honeymoon?'

Walker grinned. 'Yeah, well, it's not so much what he did do, as what he didn't, know what I mean?'

It took a couple of moments for the penny to drop.

'Oh, right!' While of course he'd theoretically been young, it was hard to imagine his CO as ever having done much of that sort of thing, and apparently hadn't even then.

'Ah, Frank!' exclaimed the Vicar, seeming just as much a twitter as the two little Miss Godfreys a few rows back. 'Now you just wait there, and when Mr Yeatman starts playing, your lovely young lady will be on her way!'

'Thank you, Mr Farthing,' Pike replied politely, hoping he was right.

Outside the church by now, Hodges tried one more time to make his niece see sense, at least as far as he was concerned.

'So you really want to go through with this?'

Sylvia turned to him. 'Yeah. Uncle Bill, I know you two don't get on, and we didn't have the best start, but yeah, I'm sure.'

She looked like her mother there, Hodges thought, and her father, actually. Stan had always been the quiet one, but once his mind was made up, there was no budging him. Hodges couldn't quite bring himself to say Stan would be proud of his only daughter's choice, but he'd be proud to see her married, all the same.

'All right,' he managed, exasperated but resigned. 'Come on, then.'

The pair of them entered, and the traditional strains of the Wedding March began. Sylvia walked along in a sudden daze, and only knew later what she'd looked like from people telling her. They told her she'd looked beautiful, an elegant young lady carrying her garden roses with pride and eyes shining every step of the way.

'Pikey!' Walker nudged him sharply. 'She's 'ere!'

Scrambling round clumsily on the narrow pew, Pike's eyes widened as he caught sight of the pretty girl he'd fallen in love with looking so beautiful. He still couldn't quite believe she was there to marry him, and every click of her heels and sway of her hips was sending his emotions and hormones crazy.

''Ere,' Hodges informed him, bluntly interrupting his daydreams. 'And you best look after 'er!' he added, before being beckoned back sharply by Ada.

Sylvia dared a glance across at her fiancé then, remembered her morning and blushed. He looked so grown up…and was that chalk…?

As the Vicar began the ceremony, both mothers couldn't help but think back to their children growing up…it didn't seem so long ago, and here they were all of a sudden, a young man and woman getting married. Mavis hadn't stopped dabbing at her eyes since she sat down, but the loss hit harder than ever as Frank's redhead girl smiled at him.

'…and do you, Sylvia, take Frank to be your lawful wedded husband?' the Vicar continued, pleased to see his church full again for a change.

Under the scrap of netting on her hat, Sylvia's eyes held those of the young man opposite her, and smiled.

'I do,' she murmured gently, extending her hand to his.

Nervously, Pike reached for the plain golden band in front of them. It felt cool to the touch, and he was afraid of dropping it, his hands were so sweaty. Her skin though, felt warm and soft, and a slight shiver ran through him as he slid the ring on her finger. She was his, a real girl, better than any Hollywood fantasy, and he loved her so much.

Feeling the smooth gold brush her skin caused Sylvia's vision to soften, as if in a dream, with her heart starting to race as her mind caught up. She watched his hand draw back from her own, shivering a little herself at the touch.

'…I now pronounce you Man and Wife!' finished the Vicar, smiling at them. It was so nice to see young couples in love in these troubled times, he thought, before adding, 'You may kiss the Bride!'

In the pews, Hodges grunted and looked away. Even if this was happening, he didn't have to like it. Mavis's eyes had blurred from the moment she saw the ring, and was by now letting her tears sink into Wilson's shoulder, who was ignoring Mainwaring's insistence that he 'do something' about her.

The two of them looked at one another, shy in front of all these people, suddenly looking very young. They caught each other's gaze, smiled rather nervously, and leaned in closer. It might have seemed an almost teenage kiss to those watching, but it said so much more than they could see. It said they'd chosen each other, that they'd be promised to one another for ever, and burned its way into memories that would never fade.

Watching them, Clara Wilson smiled. He seemed like a nice boy, and clearly adored his new bride. She let herself imagine her own Wedding Day for a moment, then let her thoughts run on. It would have been nice to be able to stay, and meet them properly, but, well…it wouldn't really be right. Only a little longer, and she'd have to go. It was sad, and she wished it wasn't so, but it was. Maybe one day, after the War, things would be easier for families like hers...

Breaking apart, breathing slightly more heavily, it took a moment for the young couple to remember where they were, and it was hard to absorb quite what had just happened. They possibly would have remained in some sort of daydream had the Vicar not reminded them that they needed to sign the register now, and it dawned on Sylvia that her name – her life, and theirs, had changed forever.

It seemed to hit Pike at the same time, watching her in awe signing her name, roses at her side. This was his wife…the girl he would look after for the rest of their lives. It was a great responsibility, but one he'd never hesitated to take. She looked so beautiful it made him fall rather heavily into the chair still warm from her touch, and his hand shook a little as he signed his own name above hers.

'There!' the Vicar smiled at them, then over at the two mothers, who both looked rather emotional, Wilson (who Mavis had not wanted to let go) and Hodges, who just looked impatient for the whole thing to be over. His prayers for a sudden Invasion alert had not been answered, and there she was, Sylvia Pike, God help us...

'We're all ready, Mr Yeatman!' the Vicar continued, and the Verger began to play.

'All right?' Pike asked then, taking Sylvia's hand.

'Yeah,' she smiled, the starry look never leaving her eyes. 'Come on!'

The congregation stood as the music played, following the procession of the newlyweds down the aisle. Once outside, a pronounced Welsh accent called over to them.

''Ere, Pikey! You and your good lady, you come by 'ere, yes indeed!'

'Hello, Mr Cheeseman!' Pike called back, eagerly positioning himself alongside Sylvia for their pictures, never letting her hand out of his.

'That was lovely,' Sylvia whispered, under the excited hubbub and flashbulbs that suddenly surrounded them. She waited until he turned to face her properly, and then leaned in closer.

Rather overcome, Pike couldn't really answer just then, and felt another kiss would say it much better than he ever could, just as another flash went off.

'Oh yes, boy, that's it now! That'd make the front page!'