‘No. It’s Blossom who’s really suffered.’
Margot looked across at the dog who would always have first claim on Will’s heart, not that Margot begrudged her that. Even though Blossom’s snores had reached a crescendo that could be called cacophonous and it was slightly killing the mood.
‘So, we really are going to get back together for Blossom’s sake?’ Margot asked. She picked up her glass so half her face was obscured, but she was properly smiling for the first time that evening.
‘We need to do something to stop her acting out. She did a poo in one of my limited edition, Gucci-inspired, Nike Air Force 2 trainers,’ Will reminded Margot in scandalised tones.
‘She chewed through my personalised Anya Hindmarch handbag,’ Margot said sorrowfully. ‘But more than that, she’s already had a very hard life.’
‘And we don’t want to add to her trauma . . .’
‘We really don’t.’ Margot sighed. ‘Then I guess we really are stuck with each other.’
‘I guess we are.’ Will said, and he sounded very happy about it. With a groan of anticipation, he stood up and managed not to wake Blossom.
Margot stood up too, so now she could press more than just her knees against him. ‘I should have known that you were the one right from the start,’ Margot whispered in his ear. ‘I mean it was obvious.’ She picked up one of Blossom’s paws, which was draped around his neck. ‘Dogs are very good judges of character.’
‘Hate to burst your bubble but Blossom isn’t the most discerning of creatures. She’d love anyone if there was a sausage in it for her.’
‘Blossom is an excellent judge of character,’ Margot insisted. ‘She picked us, after all.’
44
A year and a bit later
It was early September, one of those tricksy weeks when just as everyone thought autumn was here with its fallen leaves and The Great British Bake Off , summer decided to have one last hurrah.
It was a gorgeous day. Blue skies, a gentle breeze, and though it had rained earlier, there wasn’t a cloud in sight, and the playing field in Highgate Woods was a glorious green once more.
Perfect cardigan weather, Margot thought with great satisfaction as she and Blossom entered the woods at the top of Muswell Hill Road. Blossom came to a stop because this was usually when Margot unclipped her lead, but today Margot shook her head.
‘I’m not having you run off after a squirrel,’ she said as her phone beeped in time with the frantic thrum of her heart.
Waiting for you. Usual place.
It was a walk Margot had done hundreds of times since Blossom came into her life. A walk she didn’t give much thought to, usually her attention on Blossom as she trotted on ahead, but today it felt like the longest walk in the world.
Past the toilets, past the children’s playgrounds, then onto the field. The weather had tempted out many, many people, but Margot had eyes only for the tall man in a suit who was standing in front of the café, the clock showing that Margot was running ten minutes behind schedule.
But then everybody always expected the bride to be a little bit late.
Aware of all eyes on them, Margot bent down to adjust the garland of flowers around Blossom’s neck, then the crown of flowers on her own head, and walked slowly through the crowd, nodding at her dog-walking friends and Sophie from the rescue centre, smiling at her Ivy+Pearl family, waving at Daphne and Geoff from upstairs, and coming to a halt because she couldn’t quite believe that there was Tracy, standing with Sarah and Jess, even though they’d agreed that it was too far and too expensive to fly all the way from New Zealand.
‘Like I was going to miss you getting married,’ Tracy said in Margot’s ear as she gave her a quick hug, then a shove forward as people murmured impatiently.
Margot had said, to Will’s surprise, that the ‘getting married isn’t as important as the being married. Really, I only have strong opinions on the dress and the cake. I don’t suppose you know anyone who could do our flowers?’
‘Possibly,’ Will had said. ‘I could make a couple of calls.’
But it had turned out that they both had a lot of strong opinions on getting married and, happily, most of those strong opinions had converged. They’d get married in Highgate Woods at the place where they’d met for those Sunday handovers, had sniped and argued and eventually decided that maybe they could be friends. Also, Blossom was Dog of Honour, and a surprising amount of wedding venues didn’t have a dog-friendly policy.
They couldn’t legally get married in Highgate Woods, so they’d done the actual deed the day before in the less than salubrious surrounds of Haringey Register Office, in front of Mary and Ian and Derek and Tansy.
So today, now, after pleading with the City of London Corporation, was when Margot and Will would really come together. And everything was perfect.
Her dress was a blush pink duchesse satin, with fitted bodice and full skirt (which concealed the small but already pronounced curve of Margot’s belly), three-quarter length sleeves, and pockets, as she later announced to delighted applause. Because her ankles were already swollen and because the terrain of Highgate Woods wasn’t really suited to anything with a heel, Margot wore glittery trainers.
Will said that he’d wear trainers too, with his navy-blue suit, which set off the little sprig of pink-tinged marguerite daisies in his buttonhole. They’d had no say in the flowers whatsoever. Mary and Rowan had informed them that their wedding flowers would be sweet williams, marguerite daisies and orange blossom. When Margot had burst into tears, because she was bursting in tears a lot, Mary had patted her hand and assured her that the three flowers were a perfect match.
Margot gazed down at her bouquet, the delicate white orange blossom providing a beautiful backdrop to the vibrant cerise sweet williams, which in turn complemented the softer pink of the daisies. Then she lifted her head to where Will was standing with Ian, his best man, at his side.
Guests and onlookers clapped Margot and Blossom as they passed, so it felt a lot like a freedom walk with Blossom tugging at the lead until they reached Will, who had a soft smile on his face that she hadn’t seen before.
‘Hello, you look beautiful,’ he said, taking Blossom’s lead. Then he cupped Margot’s cheek. ‘You scrub up all right, too.’
‘You don’t look so bad yourself,’ Margot said, as Blossom sat down rather heavily on her foot.
There was a cough, and Margot and Will turned to face Derek who had married loads of his punk friends back in the day, and had offered to do the honours.
‘Ladies, gentlemen and honoured dogs, we’re here to celebrate Margot and Will at a spot which has played a significant part in their lives ever since they first met at a dog-rescue kennels off the A41.’
There wasn’t much for Derek to do, other than to set a light-hearted mood. They’d written their own vows.
‘I promise that we’ll always face the future together, whatever the future brings.’
‘I promise that I won’t just be your husband, I’ll be your family.’
‘I promise that I won’t always stick you with that last ten thirty p.m. wee walk.’
‘And I promise that I really will stop letting Blossom sleep in our bed.’