Sorry again for the delay. Been away on holiday!
As the hands of his watch slipped to five past the hour, he felt himself start to grow anxious. It was only a twenty-minute slot after all, the next happy couple waiting in the wings to rush in after them, and any more of a delay and there would barely be time for a wedding at all. There was being traditionally late and then there was causing him added stress that he didn't need.
The door at the back of the ceremony room opened, and his insides leapt, but it was only Pat re-entering having left to ring Christina's flat to make sure she was all right.
"Well?"
"No answer," she replied, shrugging helplessly. "I mean, that has to be a good sign, doesn't it? It proves she must be on her way."
"So where is she?"
"Maybe she's not coming," Phil piped up helpfully from where he was lounging in a chair at the side.
"Shut up Phil," Gerry said sharply. "That's hardly helping now, is it?"
"Sorry."
"She's probably just caught in traffic," Pat said. "You know what the roads can be like round here at this time of day."
"It's eleven o'clock, not half past rush hour," he replied acidly, glancing at Phil as he spoke. His nephew's words might have been said in jest, but part of him couldn't help but wonder if there was some truth behind them. What if she had taken cold feet and decided that she didn't want to marry him after all? It was a thought that didn't rationally bear contemplating and yet he'd have been naïve not to at least think it. "Phone the station."
"What?" Pat frowned.
"Phone Sun Hill. Ask to speak to her, see if she's there."
"You said she'd taken the day off," Gerry reminded him.
"I know that, but I wouldn't put it past Jack Meadows to somehow pull her in on the pretext of some emergency or something," he replied. "Phone the station and ask if she's there."
"But why would I be looking for her at the station?"
"Just do it, will you?!"
Pat and Gerry exchanged glances before the former made her way back out of the door into the hallway, passing the registrar as she did so. He advanced upon them carefully, as though aware that he might not get a favourable reaction.
"No sign of the bride yet?"
"No, not yet."
"I see…" he glanced at his watch. "It's just that…"
"She'll be here."
"I…"
"I said, she'll be here," he repeated, fixing the other man with his steeliest look. If he knew what was good for him, he would back off.
"Quite. Yes, I'm sure she will," the registrar replied. "But, if she's not here in another five minutes or so, we may have to postpone."
"Postpone?"
"Yes. We do have other couples waiting and we're full for today. It wouldn't be fair to delay everyone else's nuptials."
"She'll be here," he said again, hoping that this time, the other man would get the message. To his relief, he nodded and turned back for the door, just as Pat reappeared. "Well?"
"I spoke to someone at the front desk, and they rang up to CID, but they said she wasn't there." She reached out and brushed fluff from his shoulder. "Don't worry, Frank, I'm sure there's a completely understandable and unavoidable reason for her being late."
"Yeah, like she's changed her mind," Phil quipped again.
"Will you shut up!" he raged at him. "It's only because of me and her that you're sat here right now and not in some juvenile detention facility!"
"Frank!" Pat gasped.
"Well, it's true, isn't it?" he paced over to the window and looked out to the street beyond, hoping and praying for the sight of her getting out of a taxi and hurrying up the steps. Outside, there were plenty of people going about their business, but no sign of the one person he was desperate to lay eyes on. A hard, angry, irrational feeling started to rise inside him. "If she stands me up, she'll regret it."
"Don't talk rubbish," Pat said smoothly. "She's not going to stand you up, and even if she did, there would have to be a good reason, like an accident or something…"
His anger was suddenly replaced by fear, and he swung around to face his sister, who had clearly regretted her remark the moment it had been made judging by the look on her face. "An accident?"
"I'm sure it's nothing like that," Gerry said, shooting his wife a look. "I'm sure she'll be here any minute."
"Yeah," he replied, as the registrar appeared at the door again. "I'm sure she will."
XXXX
"Taxi!"
"Chris, wait up!"
"Taxi!"
She ran up the pavement, flailing her arm like a madwoman, trying desperately not to catch her heel in a paving slab and go hurtling towards the concrete in her quest to reach the registry office in time. After sitting motionless with indecisiveness for a good few minutes once the taxi had stopped, she had reckoned that the only thing to do was to try to get there by other means and so, she had taken to her heels, Viv in hot pursuit. Once on the high street, back where the traffic was free flowing, she had started desperately trying to wave down any taxi that she could see, but every one appeared to be occupied or the driver looked at her askance as he sailed past, clearly unwilling to stop for the demented looking bride. "Shit!" she exclaimed, as another one drove past without stopping. "Christ, this is useless!"
"Wait…" Viv panted as she finally reached her. "We can't…can't keep running like this…"
"Speak for yourself! I've got a wedding to get to. What time is it?"
"It's…almost ten past…"
"Oh God…" she whirled wildly, trying to think of a viable solution. "How far away are we?"
"Too far to…keep running…" Viv said, clutching her side. "Bugger, I've got a stitch…"
"Well, it doesn't look like we've got any other choice. God, this is a disaster! He's going to think that I've stood him up!" She scanned the street in front of her, watching as car after car swept by, despair rising in her chest. If they missed their slot, that would be it. All the plans for the day ruined, all because someone couldn't drive the length of themselves without crashing into someone else. For all the misgivings that she might have had about whether or not she was doing the right thing, the thought of not making it filled her with fear. "A phone…maybe if I found a phone, I could call…" she broke off as something familiar turned the corner at the bottom of the street and began making its way towards them. "Is that…is that one of ours?"
"What?" Viv asked.
"There."
"What? Where?"
"There…" she paused for a moment, hovering between the right and the wrong thing to do. If it was once of theirs, she might make it to her wedding, but the whole nature of her relationship with Frank would be blown out of the water. But what other choice did she have? "Hey!" she shouted, waving her arms above her head. "Hey, stop!"
"What are you doing?!" Viv demanded. "Chris, if that's from Sun Hill…"
"Hey! Stop!" She ignored her friend and kept waving, relieved as the panda car slowed as it approached her and then indicated to pull in, then steeling herself in case she recognised who might be inside.
"What seems to be the trouble, Miss?" The passenger window was wound down and, to her relief, she found the face unfamiliar.
"Are you from Barton Street?" she asked hurriedly. "Stafford Row? Park Lane?"
"Barton Street," the officer replied, frowning. "You are?"
"WDS Lewis, Sun Hill CID. I need a lift to Canley Registry Office."
The officer looked her up and down and then turned to look at his companion. "Uh…"
"Look, please…we're in a hurry."
"Sun Hill, eh?" he chuckled, "and you need a lift?"
"Yes! Can you give us one? It's an emergency."
"Hop in!" the driver leaned across and grinned at her.
"Brilliant, thanks!" Wrenching open the door, she slid across to the far seat, making room for Viv in the process. "Can you go lights and sirens please?"
"Well, I don't know about that…" the first officer said, just as the driver flicked the switch and the familiar wail of the siren filled the air.
"Anything to help a damsel in distress," the driver said, glancing at her in the rear mirror.
"Thank you."
"I know you, don't I?"
"Oh, probably," she replied, fanning her flushed face with her bouquet and hoping that there weren't sweat patches on her dress.
"Yeah, I do. You're Stewart Church's missus."
His words brought her up sharp and she felt herself freeze momentarily. "I'm sorry?"
"Stewart Church, ex Drugs Squad," he repeated. "You're his missus. I remember seeing you down our nick every other week or so. Her husband kept getting himself lifted for being drunk and disorderly," he explained to his companion. "She had to keep coming down to bail him out."
"That was a long time ago."
"Clearly. You getting re-married then?"
"What does it look like?" Viv piped up.
"You marrying him?"
"What?"
"Him."
"Him who?"
"Your boss. The one they said in court you'd been having the affair with."
In that moment, she wished it had been a Sun Hill car after all, wished she had never demanded to be given a lift the moment she'd known they were from Barton Street. Wasn't the day, the whole scenario, difficult enough without the third degree? "I don't know what you're talking about," she said, turning away to look out the window as they sped through the streets.
"Oh, come on, after we've been good enough to give you a lift too," the driver said. "The least you can do is tell us."
"It's the next left here," she replied, desperate to avoid answering the question and feeling relieved when the registry office suddenly came into sight. "Thank you," she said again, as they slowed and then stopped outside. Pulling the door handle, however, she suddenly realised that it was locked. "Can you open the door please?"
The driver unclipped his seatbelt and turned fully round in his seat. "Not until you tell us who the lucky groom is."
"Just open the door, will you?" Viv said, but he ignored her, his gaze still trained on her.
"I reckon it's Burnside," the driver said, and his companion laughed. "I mean, unless you were knocking off Brownlow or Conway and, well, I doubt that very much."
"Burnside?" the other officer said. "Frank Burnside? I didn't have him down as the marrying type. The shagging type sure, but not the marrying type."
"This one must have something special," the driver said, his gaze flicking over her.
"Open the door," she said, as calmly as she could.
"Well, is it him or not?"
"Whoever it is, if you don't let us out this car right now, he'll be out here and he'll make sure you pair never work again," Viv declared.
Both officers laughed again, their mirth only broken by a sudden rapping on the window and, when she looked out, she could see Pat's concerned face looking back at her. "Christina? What's going on?"
Angrily, she pulled on the handle again. "Open this door right now or I swear to God…"
"Keep your knickers on…if you can."
The door suddenly opened, and she got out of the car as quickly as she possibly could, meeting Pat on the pavement. "We thought you were never coming," Pat said. "Frank's been doing his nut in there."
"Ooh, Frank…so it is Burnside then," the driver laughed, his window now down to hear the conversation. "Well, I'd say congratulations, but I don't know if that's the right word or not."
"Let's just go," Viv said, joining them. "Ignore them."
"Can we come and watch?" the driver called as she turned for the steps.
"Screw you!" she tossed back over her shoulder, ignoring them as best she could and following her soon to be sister-in-law inside to where Gerry was hovering.
"Thank Christ!" he exclaimed. "Any longer and you were going to have to cancel, not to mention Frank was about to put the registrar in hospital. I'll go and tell him you're here." Without waiting for any explanation, he hurried into the ceremony room, closing the door behind him.
"I need to go to the loo," she said.
"Can't it wait?" Pat asked.
"No, I need to go now!" she cast her gaze wildly around, finding the sign for the ladies and hurrying towards it, Viv at her heels. "Oh God…" she groaned, letting herself inside and hurrying over to the mirrors. "Look at the state of me!"
"You look fine. Just a bit flushed, that's all."
She started playing with her hair, trying to bring it back under control and willing the redness in her cheeks to dissipate, not to mention the pounding in her chest. She was under no illusion that the two Barton Street officers would most likely already be spreading the story around. "It's all going to come out, isn't it?"
"No, it looks fine," Viv tried to reassure her.
"I'm not talking about my hair! I'm talking about the fact that those two from Barton Street…"
"Forget them."
"But…"
"Forget them!" Viv said firmly. "Right now, you have to concentrate on getting into that ceremony room and getting married. Anything else is going to have to wait."
"But maybe I should tell Frank, warn him…"
"He's not going to change his mind, is he?"
"No, but…"
"Then stop worrying about it. You can deal with it after you're married." Viv looked at her kindly. "Don't let those two idiots spoil what's supposed to be the happiest day of your life."
She took a deep breath and cast herself a final look in the mirror. It was supposed to be the happiest day of her life and yet she couldn't help but think it had all just been ruined.
XXXX
"So, she's all right? She's not hurt or anything?"
"No, she looked fine. A bit flustered, but that was all."
"Thank God for that." He glared at the registrar. "Happy now?"
"I'll be happy once we get the two of you married," he replied smoothly, "as will you be, I'm sure."
"So, what the hell was the hold-up?"
"I don't know, she didn't say," Gerry replied, glancing over his shoulder as the door opened and Pat came in, followed closely by Viv. "Don't worry about it now…" his words were drowned out as Frank advanced on the other woman.
"What the hell happened?!" he demanded.
"There was an accident on the way here and the taxi got blocked. We tried to make it on foot and then we flagged a car down."
He frowned, "What car?"
"Just a car," she replied. "Chris can explain everything later."
"Explain what later?" Before he could interrogate her further, the ceremony room door opened again, and Christina stepped inside. In that moment, he forgot about the earlier events of the day and found himself transfixed by her. She looked nervous, uncertain almost, but as she caught his eye, she smiled, and he couldn't help but think how lucky he was. Slowly she made her way towards him, the faint strains of music accompanying her steps, until she was stood beside him.
"Sorry I'm late," she said softly, as he reached for her hand.
"The bride's prerogative, of course," the registrar replied, as though the comment had been for his benefit. "In any event, it's good that you're here now. So, friends…welcome to the marriage of Francis and Christina."
He winced slightly at the use of his given name.
"Today is a special day for them as they will join together in marriage supported by those who care for them. Your presence here as they affirm a lifelong commitment to each other signifies your importance in their lives. Before I proceed, the law requires that I must ask both parties to the marriage to formally identify themselves in my presence and in the presence of their witnesses. Therefore, Francis, can you confirm that your name is Francis Thomas Burnside"
"Yes," he replied, narrowing his eyes at her as a smile played around the corner of her mouth.
"And Christina, can you confirm that your name is Christina Elizabeth Lewis?"
"Yes."
"It is at this stage that I must ask you, are you both ready, without reservation to make the required declarations which will join you in marriage here today?" the registrar looked at them both expectantly and he was gratified to see, out of the corner of his eye, her nodding. "Excellent. We can now proceed to the vows. If you could please turn to one another and hold both hands."
He did as bidden, her skin warm against his own. This was it, the moment he had been waiting for almost from the first second they had ever declared feelings for one another. On the day his divorce from Julie had been finalised, he had told himself that he would never marry again and yet, here he was, pledging his future to someone else. He'd never felt more sure about anything.
"Do you, Francis, take Christina to be your lawfully wedded wife? Do you promise to love her, honour her and respect her, in sickness and in heath, for richer for poorer, for better for worse, for all of your life together?"
He kept his gaze locked with hers. "I do."
"And do you, Christina, take Francis to be your lawfully wedded husband? Do you promise to love him, honour him and respect him, in sickness and in heath, for richer, for poorer, for better, for worse, for all of your life together?"
He felt himself hold his breath slightly as she paused for an infinitesimal second before replying, "I do."
"Do you have the rings?"
He looked to Gerry, who reached into his pocket and pulled out the two simple bands, handing them to him before he in turn handed them to the registrar.
"Excellent. Now Francis, repeat after me: I give you this ring as a symbol of my love as I join my life to yours as your friend and husband."
"I give you this ring as a symbol of my love as I join my life to yours as your friend and husband." He slid the band slowly onto her finger.
"And now Christina…repeat after me: I give you this ring as a symbol of my love as I join my life to yours as your friend and wife."
"I give you this ring as a symbol of my love as I join my life to yours as your friend and wife," she repeated, her voice trembling over the words, her hands shaking.
"Vows having been made and rings exchanged, I now have great pleasure in pronouncing you husband and wife. You may now seal your union with a kiss."
Her breath seemed to leave her body all in one go and she let out a half-gasp, half-sob as he gently pulled her to him and kissed her, whilst the small, assembled party clapped behind them. She sagged somewhat heavily against him for a moment before seeming to regain herself and meet his gaze, her eyes watery.
"Got you," he said softly, holding her in the circle of his embrace. "You really are all mine now." She said nothing, but merely nodded and let him kiss her again, before the registrar made noises for them to follow him to sign the register and make way for the next couple.
"Mrs Burnside," he said, sliding his arm around her waist as they re-emerged into the foyer. "Who'd have thought it, eh?"
"Who indeed."
"You look beautiful."
"Thank you," she replied softly, and he couldn't help but pick up on a note of uncertainty in her tone.
"What's wrong?" he asked. "Aren't you happy?"
"Of course I am. It's just…"
"Just what? Come on, I'm your husband now. You can't keep secrets from me."
"Everything all right?" Viv interrupted, coming up behind them. "It was a lovely ceremony."
"I got here by car," she said, as though she hadn't heard the other woman.
"So?"
"Panda car. One of Barton Street's, and the driver recognised me."
He felt his stomach sink slightly. "What?"
"I had no choice; there was no other way to get here but…" she paused, "like I said, he recognised me, knew that I was Stewart's wife and, well, it wasn't exactly difficult for him to work out that I was coming here to get married and…"
"And what?" She said nothing and he lifted his gaze to Viv. "Well?"
"He guessed who she was marrying," Viv replied.
"I see…" he felt a thousand different emotions rush through him, not least of all mild panic at the implications of anyone, Barton Street officers in particular, knowing what had just taken place. It would be all over their nick by now no doubt and, as a consequence, no doubt all over Sun Hill. Not to mention the small fact of how he intended accounting for his absence for the rest of the day. Not that whatever excuse he came up with would really be of any consequence once Meadows found out that he wasn't exactly 'out on enquiries'.
"I'm sorry," she said, her voice quiet as she looked, once more, to be on the verge of tears.
It was the last thing he wanted, the last thing he wanted her to feel, today of all days. It was supposed to be the first day of the rest of their lives together. He had vowed that he was going to make her far happier than Stewart Church ever had, and he was not about to let idle gossip spoil that for either of them. "Stuff it," he said finally. "Who cares?"
Her eyes widened, "What do you mean, who cares? Meadows has probably heard already and…"
"Forget it. It's not important, not today."
"Frank…"
"I mean it," he said firmly, pulling her into his arms again. "This is our wedding day. The future, the rest of our lives, start right here, right now and I'm not going to let anything…"
"But…"
"…anything spoil that. All right?" She looked at him dubiously. "Do you trust me?"
"Yes."
"Do you love me?"
"Of course I do, but…"
"Then don't worry about it. I promise that everything is going to be fine. I'll make sure of it, ok?" He waited until she finally nodded in acquiescence. "That's my girl. Right," he directed his comments towards the others. "I need a drink, anyone else?"
"Too flaming right," Gerry agreed. "I'll go and see if I can rustle us up a couple of taxis."
"Good man."
He checked his watch and saw that it was almost a quarter to twelve. Just time enough to get to the restaurant and conjure up an excuse to slip out to meet Alan, then figure out not only how the rest of the day was going to pan out, but the rest of his career.
"One step at a time Frank," he said softly to himself. "One step at a time."