Page 63 of A Midlife Marriage

‘Bag search?’ Helen dipped her head as she handed her bag over. ‘It’s a bit different from St Marys, where I got married.’

‘Me too.’ Kay nodded.

‘Mind, Caro’s dress is a bit different as well.’ Helen chuckled. ‘When I think back. I was like a giant meringue!’

Kay smiled. ‘I had an enormous bow on my backside.’

‘To be fair,’ Helen whispered, ‘everyone who got married back then had a bow.’

‘But not everyone’s bow fell off,’ Kay whispered back. ‘You had one job, Helen. One job.’

‘I was scared of pushing the pins in too far! Thanks.’ Helen took her bag back. ‘I’ve been telling you that for thirty years,’ she said as she turned to Kay. ‘One day you’ll believe me.’

‘You were tipsy before we left my parent’s house!’ Kay said, as she handed her own bag over. ‘And one dayyou’llbelieveme!’

‘Maybe.’ Helen picked up the pen, as she did Kay waved to her father.

’I’ll sign in for you, Dad.’

‘Oh!’ Helen looked up. ‘I didn’t see your dad there.’ She waved across, and turning back to Kay said, ‘He looks well.’

‘He’s getting married.’

‘He’s what?’ Helen blinked.

‘Next week.’ Kay nodded. ‘Don’t ask me how I feel, OK? I know the lady and she’s lovely but …’

‘Next week?’ Pen in hand, Helen didn’t move.

‘At the retirement home where Lizzie, lives. That’s her name.’

‘Oh.’

‘And then he’s moving there.’

Helen nodded, slowly she turned back to the book, but she didn’t write anything. ‘Is he happy?’ she said.

Is he happy?This was the second time in just a few days that Kay had been asked a question she hadn’t been expecting to hear. Holding her jaw stiff, she moved her eyes to look across at where her father sat, small, suited and still. He was dressed in the suit he had worn for her mother’s funeral, the suit he was wearing the day he met Lizzie, smiling as he watched the baby across the room. The baby, she supposed, who was here to have its birth registered. That first leaflet in life. The broad end of afunnel that would inevitably lead to the last leaflet,What to do when someone dies.

She took a deep breath, her eyes moist with tears. And what should you do when someone dies? Move on? Forget them? Ask someone you barely know, to marry you? There would be nothing in a three-page leaflet to explain this third option.

The baby burped, a loud and uninhibited sound that slapped off the walls like a wet flannel.

‘Babies don’t care.’ Smiling, Helen bent to sign her name.

Kay watched. Her father was also smiling, and the baby? Nestled against its mother’s breast, the baby sucked a finger, oblivious to any unspoken etiquette it might have broken.

‘Here.’

She turned to take the pen Helen had offered, but before she could make a single stroke, a buzzing sound stopped her. A low constant vibration, that sounded like … Heart thumping, she looked up to see the security guard holding her vibrator. ‘It’s a …’ But her voice died, crept back down her throat and gave up.

Helen put her hand to her mouth.

Limp with mortification, she watched the guard turn a pillar-box red as he fumbled to turn it off. ‘Shall I …?’ she managed. ‘I can …’

He almost threw it at her and switching it off she stuffed it back in her bag, deep out of sight. As she did, she felt a firm arm linking through her own, leading her away.

‘Why,’ Helen hissed as soon as they were out of earshot of the guard, ‘would you keep it in your handbag?’

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