Page 101 of Wedding Crasher

Gabe paused as Ivan wiped his eyes with his white handkerchief and held up a shaky hand to still him. He turned to Marla and handed her an envelope.

‘I reckon my Dora would have liked you to read this out now.’

Marla nodded and swallowed her nerves as she looked at the frail envelope with tear-filled eyes.

She joined Gabe at the lectern, and he stepped aside to allow her centre stage.

Marla drew strength from the sad smile of gratitude on Ivan’s face.

‘Ivan has asked me to read this letter to you all.’

She eased the notepaper from its envelope.

‘It’s dated August, 1944.’

Her throat burned as she scanned the letter quickly, and she took a moment to compose herself. She needed to do Dora justice. Both the elderly lady she’d known and loved, and the hopeful young newlywed with a full heart and a primrose dress.

‘Dearest Ivan,

It was such a wrench to leave you at the station last weekend, although by the time this letter finds you it will probably be more like three weeks ago. Maybe even more. How I wish that you were not so far away from me, my darling. I keep looking down at my hand to make sure that my wedding ring is still there and I haven’t dreamt that I am actually your wife!

Wasn’t it just the most marvellous day?

You looked terribly handsome in your uniform, I really thought I might actually die of happiness when I saw you waiting for me at the altar.

I have to go now as I’m expected at the factory in an hour, but whenever you read this, remember that you are always my first and last thought each day.

All my prayers are that you will come home safely to me.

Your loving wife,

Dora.’

Silence fell over the congregation as Marla folded the letter and returned it to its envelope with trembling fingers. Gabe stepped closer, and the warmth of his hand against the small of her back made her long to turn into the safety of his arms.

‘Well done. You did Dora proud,’ he murmured against her hair, then propelled her lightly back towards her seat between Ivan and her mother. The old man patted her hand and nodded as he tucked Dora’s letter back inside his jacket.

At the lectern, Gabe cleared his throat and glanced down at the paper in his hand to complete Ivan’s speech.

‘I was the proudest man alive the day Dora married me. We were never lucky enough to be blessed with children, so she’s been my everything for more than sixty years. She is more than just my guiding light.’

Gabe placed the speech down slowly and raised his eyes to Marla’s.

‘She is the rock that this lighthouse stands on.’

Marla’s heart cracked wide open. It was the most beautiful, sentimental thing she’d ever heard, and she suddenly understood why Dora had worn her little diamond lighthouse brooch every single day. It must have been a love token from Ivan, as precious in its own way as her wedding ring.

The hauntingly familiar intro bars of Dame Vera Lynn’s wartime anthem, ‘We’ll Meet Again’, floated out across the chapel, and all around the room tissues were pulled from handbags as old and young hearts alike swelled with pride.

Gabe stepped down from the lectern and joined the pallbearers around the casket. Dora’s elderly friends and fellow war survivors stood and joined their voices with Dame Vera’s, their swelling song a beautiful tribute as Dora left the chapel for the final time.

Marla rubbed Emily’s back as she sobbed quietly, and together they flanked Ivan until just the three of them remained. Almost everyone at the service had taken a few moments afterwards to offer him their condolences, their hugs, and their reassurances of casseroles and visits to keep him company over the difficult weeks and months ahead. The old man looked thoroughly overwhelmed.

‘Take a few seconds, Ivan,’ Marla said, guiding him down into the nearest chair and sitting alongside him. Emily sat on his other side, and each of them held one of his frail hands in theirs.

‘It was a beautiful send-off,’ Emily said, and they all nodded.

‘She was very loved,’ Marla said. ‘I think the whole village was here.’

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