Page 93 of The Best of Times
A murmur of amusement rippled through the crowd.
Granny took the Professor’s hand and smiled at him. In fact, she hadn’t stopped beaming since they’d left the house.
“I also realise that getting married at our age might be seen as a silly thing,” he continued. “I want you all to hear these words. Some of you might even follow us down this aisle one day. If you are half as joyous as I am right now, then I wish you all the luck in the world. Love never gets old and my love for Beatrice will never fade.”
This set Alexander off again with a huge sob.
The Professor was about to face the celebrant when Granny took a step forward.
“Anyone who knows me will know that I won’t let him get the final word. Ever.”
This time everyone roared with laughter, sending Parkin into another barking frenzy.
“Before I tell my new husband how much I love him too, I want to let you all know that there will always be a special place in my heart for each and every one of you. We are so fortunate to live where we do. I was born in that house over there and, if I have my way, I’ll end my days there.”
She faltered a little.
“Queens Crescent is the best street in London, if not the world. I celebrate you all and I thank you for sharing your love. Today and all the days we have ahead of us.”
With that, they both gave the celebrant all their attention. This time, Aron stared directly at Paul. To his astonishment, a tear rolled down Paul’s cheek. Instinct told Aron to take his hand, squeeze his arm, anything.
But sense told him it wasn’t welcome. Not now. Paul had made his decision. He was going to break Aron’s heart all over again.
Nothing Aron could say would stop it.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
The ballroom at the Nickleby Hotel looked stunning. Granny’s chosen theme of cream and gold was in abundance. Huge floral displays dominated the centre of each table, which had been duly named after the Professor’s favourite Dickens characters.
On the top table, Aron sat with Granny on his left and his father on his right. Also in attendance were Alexander, Zac and Formula One drivers Charles Worthington and Luis Salvatore. They had always been Granny’s favourites.
Unfortunately, as each table was circular, Paul sat directly opposite him. Aron had tried his utmost to avoid eye contact. Paul had made his feelings abundantly clear. Instead, he’d caught up properly with his father. Something that had been long overdue.
Mercifully there were no speeches. The bride and groom had had their say at the ceremony and Granny wasn’t about to let anyone mock her. Not in public.
Aron wondered if there was anyone brave enough to even attempt such a feat.
Instead they were enjoying a two-hour seven course taster menu. Music was provided by a rotation of pianists.
“This is perfect, Granny,” Aron said. “The halibut was amazing.”
“It’s a wonderful day, isn’t it?”
“The best. I’ll be too full to hit the dancefloor later.”
“Nonsense. You won’t let the Wimpole side down.”
“Will we call you Mrs Higgs now, Mrs Wimpole?” Alexander asked.
Granny gave the Professor a squeeze on the arm.
“Beatrice won’t be taking my name,” he said.
Aron noticed Paul bristle. Instantly his heckles rose. If he dared make a comment, Aron would shut him down.
“It is in part so that Paul’s mother remains the only Mrs Higgs who lived on Queens Crescent,” Granny said. “And the other part, the name Wimpole has been mine for half a century. I don’t think I’d know who I was if I wasn’t Mrs Wimpole.”
“And nor would we,” Charles said, raising a glass.
