Page 88 of All Summer Long

Stewie had provided her with her something old in the form of an exquisite antique silver wand, perfect, he’d said, for the most enchanting woman he’d ever known. Niamh had decorated it with wild flowers gathered that morning from Borne woods, turning it into a special and unique bridal bouquet befitting of the village’s most mystical resident.

‘Not long now, Mum,’ Ewan said, popping his head around the lounge door and doing a double take when he caught sight of his mother. ‘Wow.’

Niamh whistled.

‘Not looking too shabby yourself, Ewan.’

This was probably the first and last time that any of them would see Ewan in a suit, and he’d tied his hair back with a skinny leather band because he knew his mum preferred it that way. His shirt toned perfectly with Hazel’s dress, and he’d even forgone his beloved black eye liner in honour of the occasion. Hazel hadn’t told anyone except for Alice and Niamh, but she’d tucked Ewan’s baby bracelet from the hospital inside her dress for good luck.

‘What about your something blue?’ Alice asked, her mind already racing through her jewellery box to see if she could come up with anything.

Hazel laughed merrily. ‘I’m marrying Stewie, my love! I think I’ve got blue covered.’

‘Five minutes,’ Niamh said, and Alice automatically glanced towards the clock on the mantle. It was one of the few pieces they’d shipped across from Nashville, first steps in making the manor theirs instead of hers. The huge painting over the fireplace was a new addition too, a handmade house warming gift courtesy of Niamh. Lavish in both size and style, it featured a bold baroque representation of Alice and Robinson in a broad gilt frame. In the scene, Alice sat side-saddle on Banjo’s back, grand and quite naked aside from her red wellingtons, her modesty protected only by her cascading pre-Raphaelite blonde waves. Robinson stood beside Banjo’s head holding on to his bit, Stetson on, shirt off, his muscles remembered with almost disturbing accuracy by Niamh. His low-slung jeans were held in place by a gilt belt buckle and, of course, he had his beloved guitar slung over his tanned torso. The manor stood behind them in the distance; the whole vibrant painting was alive with jewel colours, humour and love. Niamh had hung it as a surprise for them on their first trip home to the manor, and Alice had laughed until she’d cried, overcome with emotion and relief. She was head over heels in love with Robinson, with Borne, with her friends, and with her newest treasured possession.

A huge, brand new yellow and white candy stripe bell tent had replaced the damaged yurt, and Alice and Niamh had spent the previous day transforming it into the quirkiest of pretty wedding venues for Hazel and Stewie’s special day.

Robinson and handsome Huck, his chief roadie, had kindly dismantled the bed, doing most of the heavy lifting to bring all of the dining chairs from the manor and most of the cottages down into the bell tent for the congregation. It didn’t matter at all that they were mismatched; it all just added to the vintage charm. Lavender bunting wound around the guy ropes and fluttered in the warm breeze, while jugs of wild flowers filled the tent with the scents and colours of an English cottage garden. It was like a scene from a fairytale, made complete by the little wedding carriage Hazel’s cousin Starling had managed to borrow for the day on a ‘no questions asked’ basis.

‘Your carriage awaits, Cinderella,’ Ewan called from out on the driveway, and all three women made their way outside into the sunshine.

Banjo looked magnificent harnessed to the navy-lacquered open top carriage, a jaunty plume of lavender feathers on top of his head, as handsome Huck appeared and opened the carriage door. Ewan offered his mother a hand as she stepped inside and then hopped in beside her.

‘Come on up, Goldilocks,’ Robinson said, nodding at Alice to join him up front on the padded driver’s bench. Alice grinned, and then turned to hug Niamh quickly. Loosely allocated the role of bridesmaids, they were both dressed in Hazel’s choice of identical pink mini dresses with white cowboy boots and wild flower circlets in their plaited hair, blending seamlessly with the bohemian and mildly eccentric tone of the day.

Alice skipped up to the carriage and then paused, unsure how to clamber up without showing her knickers.

Handsome Huck hovered, on hand to give her a boost if needed.

‘I’m watching where you put your hands,’ Robinson warned, winking at his buddy.

‘So am I!’ Niamh said. She smacked Huck on the ass smartly, and he twisted around as he boosted Alice and kissed Niamh hard on the mouth. From the moment Niamh and Huck had met backstage at Robinson’s concert, they’d fallen irrevocably in lust with each other, and it would come as no surprise to anyone if the next wedding at Borne had a distinctly Anglo-Southern twist.

As the carriage made its way sedately off across the lawns, Niamh clapped her hands happily and then climbed up aboard Huck’s back, arms around his neck, her cowboy boots crossed over his crotch. He growled, sliding his hand behind him and up her bare thigh until she slapped him away.

‘Later, my big handsome Huck,’ she whispered, biting his ear. ‘I’m gonna wrap myself naked in the American flag and pledge allegiance to your huge, mercifully un-fig-like todger.’

Huck laughed and jiggled his belt. ‘Darlin’, I don’t even know what half of that means, but I sure as hell am lookin’ forward to findin’ out.’

‘Yee haa!’ Niamh shouted, kicking his hips and lassoing the air as they set off after the carriage, keeping a safe distance until Huck was once more respectable enough to be seen in public.

It really was the most marvellous of weddings. Stewie was every inch the Prince Charming in his white suit and lavender frilled dress shirt, his head gloriously bare and buffed at his bride’s request. Dessy and Jase assisted him ably as his best men, both in powder blue shirts that hugged their muscled biceps as they directed people randomly to any spare seat they could see.

Most of the village had turned out, a curious collection of farmers, WI members and the obligatory smattering of goth teenagers keeping Ewan company at the back.

The only person in the village who hadn’t been invited to the wedding was Davina. Hazel and Stewie had boycotted the post office as soon as it became clear that Davina had been the one responsible for tipping the press off about Robinson’s presence in Borne. They weren’t the only ones to take umbridge with the post mistress; most of the village had wised up to her ways now and she’d had to turn to internet dating for the attention she craved.

Finally the ceremony got under way, and there was barely a dry eye in the tent when the happy couple made their personalised wedding vows. A ripple of laughter moved around the tent when Hazel vowed to let Stewie wear his Elvis wig once a year on the King’s birthday and in turn Stewie agreed to become foster father to both Ewan and Rambo. On cue, Rambo, who had of course attended the wedding as guest of honour in his huge gold cage, preened his feathers and shouted his now legendary phrase.

‘Come here, handsome, and let me rub your big bald head!’

Stewie ran his hand over his smooth head and then bent Hazel back over his arm, Rhett Butler to her Scarlett O’Hara.

‘I rather think that’s a job for my new wife, don’t you, darling?’

Everyone clapped and wolf whistled as Stewie whipped his hankie from his top pocket for Hazel to do the honours, and Ewan slunk lower into his chair and covered his eyes when a few moments later she flung the hankie aside and pulled Stewie down into an X-rated snog.

As dusk fell, hundreds of fairy lights glittered in the trees and tea-lights shone in the hand-painted jam jars Alice had hung from the branches. Inside the tent Stewie and Hazel danced slowly to live music provided by Hazel’s cousin Starling on violin and handsome Huck on his antique mouth organ, and outside in the grass Robinson pulled Alice in to his arms too.

---