‘It was a pleasure,’ said Jago.
‘Are you wearing that for the party?’ asked Helena.
Jago was wearing jeans with ripped knees and a band T-shirt that he probably used for sleeping in. He looked down at himself. ‘Oh, I see what you mean. Should I go home and put on my suit?’
‘I think you look absolutely fine,’ said Gilly firmly. ‘Don’t go anywhere.’
‘Totes agree,’ said William seriously. ‘Isn’t that what the young people say?’
Helena closed her eyes, shook her head and took another sip of champagne, but she was smiling.
‘Oh, are we late?’ said a voice.
It was Amy and she had James with her. ‘I thought I was early,’ Amy went on. ‘I came in case you needed any help.’ She pulled James forward. ‘You said I could bring a plus one,’ she said shyly. ‘This is James.’
‘How lovely,’ said Gilly.
‘It’s so cool you’re still friends!’ said Helena. She gave them both a hug.
‘Don’t get overexcited,’ said Amy, after there’d been quite a lot of hugging and arm punching. ‘It’s very early days.’
Gilly and Helena exchanged glances. They’d heard those words before.
‘I think you both need a glass of champagne,’ said Gilly. ‘Not that we’re celebrating …’
Chapter Thirty-eight
The party was due to start and Gilly and William were waiting in the marquee, welcoming smiles at the ready.
‘Are you all right, Mum?’ asked Helena.
‘Yes, I just want to get started. I’ve got stage fright,’ she said.
‘Aunt Daphne and the others will be here any minute,’ said William. ‘I had a text to say they were nearly here. I almost regret teaching her texting – she can’t seem to stop. It’s like a sort of Tourette’s.’
‘It all looks great!’ said Jago, looking round the marquee. ‘I’d like this for our wedding, Hels – if you’d like it?’
‘Just what I want,’ said Helena. ‘It’s so good we agree.’
‘Ah! Here they are!’ said William.
‘Oh my God,’ said Jago. ‘I think I’m scared.’
All William’s aunts, and apparently several other people, had decided to wear hats. They looked magnificent but, Gilly thought, a bit overdressed for what was basically a buffet in a tent. There were chairs and tables for everyone to sit at but it was supposed to be a very informal occasion. This phalanx of women looked ready for Ladies’ Day at Ascot, or the wedding of a minor royal.
‘People love the chance to dress up,’ said Gilly, moving forward. ‘Daphne, how lovely to see you! And I adore your hat.’
‘Not hat, hatinator,’ Daphne corrected her, kissing her cheek. ‘Not to be confused with a fascinator.’
‘You’ve obviously looked into it,’ said Gilly.
‘Of course!’ Daphne turned her attention to Helena. ‘My, you’re a pretty girl, aren’t you?’
Gilly looked at her daughter through a stranger’s eyes. She had tonged her long hair so it came over her shoulder in ordered curls. She wore a simple dress – an old favourite – and ballet flats. She was wearing mascara and a bit of lipstick and looked, to Gilly’s entirely biased eyes, beautiful. And at her side was Jago, who, although he wasn’t wearing his suit, looked kind and handsome and just the man she would have chosen for her daughter (if the matter had anything to do with her). Gilly appreciated him deeply for being who he was. She’d have loved him if he’d been wearing budgie smugglers and a snorkel to her party.
Daphne patted Gilly’s arm. ‘Lovely young couple, darling. You’re so lucky.’
‘Yes I am,’ said Gilly, feeling lucky until her son came into her mind and she felt just a little bit sad. ‘Now, where are you going to sit?’
‘Isn’t there a seating plan?’ Daphne was put out by this basic mistake.
‘Well, no, we thought people would just—’
‘Don’t worry about it, darling. I’ll organise it.’ Daphne clapped her hands. ‘People! Follow me!’
Other guests began to arrive and the enclave of hat-wearing aunties was less prominent. But they still looked like a flock of exotic parakeets on an English bird table.
William and Gilly found they couldn’t go and sit down themselves for a while, so many people wanted to congratulate them, which, Gilly realised, was really a chance for one set of friends to get a look at their friend’s chosen partner. Gilly was glad to see the chaps from the gliding club, whom she knew.
‘You’re looking very lovely, my dear,’ said one. ‘We’re all so pleased that William has found the right girl at last. One who can join in with his hobby and not resent it. And you won’t regret your choice either. Salt of the earth is our William.’
‘I’m sure I won’t,’ said Gilly, smiling happily. ‘He’s perfect.’
‘Not sure I’m perfect, darling,’ said William, overhearing, ‘I don’t wash up very thoroughly.’
‘It’s OK,’ said Gilly, preparing to greet the next guest, ‘I have a dishwasher.’
People had mostly gone to the buffet and sat down again, the waiters had filled glasses, fetched water and made sure that Daphne’s little crew got cups of tea. William looked at Gilly. ‘Time for a quick speech?’
‘Do we have to?’
‘Just a very short one,’ said William. ‘I think we should.’
‘But you haven’t got any food yet!’ said Jago. ‘I’ll get you both some. If you go, you’ll never get back to your seats.’
Gilly didn’t want William to make a speech just yet and she was glad to be presented with a plate of delicious food by Jago. It put off the moment when, basically, she had to give up hope. Although she couldn’t really eat the food, she played around with it.
She had just put a pepper stuffed with goats cheese, and, it transpired, a bit of chilli, into her mouth when she saw some movement by the entrance of the marquee.
It was Martin, Cressida and Ismene. Martin was wearing a suit, Cressida was wearing a very body-con gun-metal dress with a fascinator to match and Gilly’s only granddaughter was dressed in the kind of smocked dress Gilly would have refused to wear when she was a child. She thought her heart would overflow with happiness. Issi waved at her. Gilly waved back.
Martin and Cressida made their way across the marquee, through the people who still hadn’t sat down with their plates of food.
‘Sorry we’re late, Mum,’ said Martin. ‘There was a lot of traffic.’ He only met her eyes for a second or two but that was enough. He was here. Gilly swallowed back tears of joy.
‘That top looks lovely on you,’ said Cressida. ‘It brings out the colour of your eyes.’
‘You look lovely too,’ said Gilly. ‘But then you always do.’
‘Are there chocolate brownies, Gilly?’ asked her granddaughter.
‘Yes. I did them specially for you, but they’re in the kitchen. In the tin. I didn’t want everyone to have them.’