Alphabet Weekends - Elizabeth Noble [43]
‘Your mum and dad here yet?’ Dave asked.
‘No, not yet. They’re coming with Patrick and Lucy and the kids. Must be running a few minutes late.’
Pinhead nodded. ‘Right. Right. Better get on. See you in there.’ He darted back across the road.
‘Is Genevieve not coming?’
‘You must be joking. She’d rather poke sticks in her eyes. Although I think she’s legitimately away somewhere this weekend – working or something. Lucky cow.’
‘Shut up, Tom. This is going to be great. I love weddings!’
Tom’s parents appeared round the corner, Cynthia clutching her hat to her head, and John holding a large silver-wrapped parcel. Behind them, Patrick and Lucy dragged one child each.
Lucy’s face lit up when she saw Natalie. ‘Nat! Fantastic. Tom told me you were coming. I’m so glad… Mystified, but glad! I haven’t seen you for ages.’
Cynthia was straightening the tie of any male member of her family whom she could lay her hands on. Ed fidgeted with his shirt collar, and Cynthia smoothed his wayward hair with a wet finger. ‘He’s cross,’ she said, to no one in particular, ‘because we’ve told him he can’t have his Power Rangers in the service.’
‘Don’t worry, mate.’ Tom bent down to talk to his nephew. ‘It only takes about ten minutes, and then you can have them back.’ Ed smiled worship at his uncle.
‘Natalie, sweetheart! You look wonderful.’ Now Cynthia was kissing her. ‘Well done for getting Tom here. So nice to have my family around me – it’s a shame Genevieve can’t be here too.’
Pinhead’s mother was Cynthia’s sister. They weren’t close. Pinhead’s mother had married someone the family hadn’t entirely approved of. Cynthia’s father had gone to his grave referring to him only as Billy Bigelow.
‘Let’s go in.’ And with that Cynthia led the charge across the pelican crossing like Monty himself.
Natalie wasn’t sure it had taken even ten minutes. It had been pretty soulless. Unless you counted the extra ordinarily powerful emotional effect of Atomic Kitten being played on the tape-recorder as Pinhead and his lovely bride Mandy walked the five metres back down the aisle (or gap between the chairs) after the ceremony, grinning happily.
Cynthia leant across her husband, and hissed at Tom, ‘Don’t even think about a civil ceremony. I want a church, with flowers, a vicar and hymns.’
Natalie did her best demure-Lady-Di at him. ‘Me too, Tom.’ He slapped her leg.
Cynthia was hissing the other way now: ‘I haven’t told them, by the way, about you, Patrick. No need, is there?’
Lucy’s heart sank. Sometimes Cynthia should think a little longer before she spoke. Beside her, she felt Patrick shrink a little. She squeezed his hand, but he didn’t squeeze back.
The reception was being held in a hotel a little along the street. Round tables, with maroon tablecloths, surrounded a dance-floor with a disco set up at one end. The food was laid out on a buffet to the side. Tom went to the bar with his father and brother, while Cynthia spoke to some elderly – not to say cryogenically frozen – relatives who’d come down from north Wales for the day.
‘So, what are you doing here really, Natalie? Can’t you think of anything better to do with your Saturday?’
‘F for Family-get-together.’ Lucy was puzzled. ‘Long story. Tell you later. I suppose I dared Tom to bring me.’
‘Is something going on between you two that I should know about?’
‘Is there heck! Come on, Luce. You of all people! But it’s nice to see you. How are you? I’m sorry about Patrick. Tom told me. I hope it’s all right, me knowing? I haven’t said anything to him about it. Heard Cynthia in the church, though. She doesn’t change, does she?!’
‘We’re not brilliant. I think Patrick’s far more upset than he’s letting on, even to me. And I don’t think I’m being as patient about it as I should be. I want to get on, you know, deal with the practicalities. Maybe I haven’t given him enough time to get used to the idea.’
‘But Tom says he reckons Patrick knew about it before Christmas.’
‘He did. Didn’t tell me