Page 97 of Coming Home to Sturcombe Bay
Then it was all laughter and kisses and photographs and people blowing bubbles that glittered and shone like miniature rainbows in the crisp December air. Cassie posed with Liam, with Liam and Robyn, with Liam and Robyn and both their set of parents, then both their families.
Then everyone crowded together for a large group photo, slapping their hands together and hunching their shoulders, and smiling against the cold.
* * *
At last there was a moment of peace as the photographer lined up various groups of guests which didn’t need to include the bride and groom. Liam glanced down at Cassie, laughing.
“Phew. Maybe we should have opted for the Register Office and jeans after all.”
Her eyes danced. “Never mind, this bit’s nearly over now. Then it’ll be cake and champagne.”
“I could go for that!”
“Daddy.” Robyn was tugging at his jacket. “Can I put my flowers on Mummy Natalie’s garden?”
He felt a pang as he smiled down at her. “Of course, sweetheart. That would be lovely.”
He glanced across at Cassie, but she was smiling too. How lucky was he to have found two such loves, and the second had accepted without doubt or question that the first would always have a space in their lives.
He took her hand, and they followed the child over to the grave. It was in a sheltered corner beneath a tall beech tree, holding up its bare branches like a net of lace against the pale-blue sky.
Natalie’s parents were there. Sylvia was quietly dabbing at her eyes with a tissue. As they approached, she glanced up with a slightly watery smile.
“Oh . . . It was a lovely wedding.” She reached out and took Cassie’s hand. “I . . . I hope you’ll be very happy.” She glanced down at the grave. “Natalie would want you to be.”
He could see that Cassie was struggling. “Thank you.”
“I can see how Robyn’s so fond of you. Take good care of them both, won’t you?”
“I will.”
“Come on then, dear.” Martin Brayley patted his wife’s shoulder. “Let’s go home.”
“You’re not staying for the reception?”
“No, dear. It . . . would be too much.”
Liam nodded and shook his hand, watching as they walked away.
* * *
Robyn crouched down beside the headstone and carefully laid her small posy of white roses and mauve gerberas on the ground. “Here you are, Mummy Natalie. These are for you. They’re my bridesmaid flowers, but I want you to have them.”
Oh lord, she was going to cry. Cassie was struggling to breathe, watching the child at her mother’s grave.
But then with the joyful resilience of childhood, she jumped up, having spotted little Amy, and hurtled off to join her friend.
“She’s having a lovely day,” Liam remarked.
Cassie smiled. “She is. It wouldn’t be the same in jeans.”
“Daddy,” the child called to him. “Come and have your picture taken with me and Amy.”
“Another one?” he murmured dryly, but obeyed the instruction.
Cassie lingered a moment longer, looking down at the grave. “I will take good care of them both,” she whispered. “I promise.”
She scooped up the long skirt of her dress, tossing it over her arm, and walked back to where everyone was still milling around the church porch. On the steps, she had paused to chat to Julia, her new sister-in-law, when Robyn came hurtling down the aisle of the empty church.
