Always and Only You

Chapter Eighty-Six

The following year

Today, there is no quaint country church, no bouquet of white roses. There are no uncles sitting on a pew, secretly wishing they were watching the football instead, no aunties with hankies at the ready to dab their eyes, or naughty little cousins to shriek through the wedding ceremony, then be hauled outside by frazzled parents. It’s just me and Gil, and less than a dozen close friends and family, inside the grand drawing room of a gleaming white Georgian mansion that stands overlooking a bend in the River Dart. A small marquee stands on the lawn behind the house, bustling with caterers and waiting staff getting ready for the reception.

I stand at the top of a flower-lined aisle, a bunch of wildflowers and roses in my hands, with Anjali beside me. I’m wearing a simple empire-line dress with a chiffon skirt. My hair is down and my make-up is soft and natural. Gil is waiting for me near the great bay windows, dressed in a charcoal suit.

I can’t believe how much has changed in the last two years since I had my accident. It’s almost as if I slipped into a parallel universe once again. New man, new job, new home …

Gil and I spend most of our time at Heron’s Quay. He can do the majority of his job from anywhere, but we bought a small flat as a bolthole near Mum for when we need to be in London – he sometimes has to meet corporate giants in towering office buildings, and I have to meet new clients in their luxurious homes or interview hopeful candidates for their household positions. I started off informally, finding my full-time replacement for Kalinda, and then some of her friends wanted to use me to vet their staff, too. I’ve also had a steady stream of yachties wanting a job that keeps them on dry land and, as I know from experience, their skills are brilliantly transferable as household staff or even estate managers. So far, I’ve been acting as a bit of a consultant, but next year I’m planning to set up my own agency. Small at first, but I have big plans for the future. I like the idea of helping other people find their perfect fit.

I’m still seeing changes in my capabilities since my accident, although progress has slowed. Headaches are something to watch out for if I get too stressed and tired, and my memory can still play a few tricks on me, but I’ve got systems in place to help me along and, most of the time, they prevent disaster. On the occasions they don’t, I’ve learned to go with the flow.

A lone violinist stands and begins to play, and I take a deep breath. This is it. My wedding day. I’m going to marry Gil for real this time.

My mother and father walk down the aisle first, followed by Anjali and Lars. They moved in together last month and seem gloriously happy.

And then I am alone, and all I have to do is walk down the soft carpet towards my waiting groom.

I don’t have to wait for him to turn round and look at me, because he does it as soon as he knows I’m standing there. He’s smiling so broadly I’m sure his cheeks will be hurting before I even reach him.

And there’s that look … the one I’ve always wanted. But I haven’t been waiting for it. I don’t need to. I see it every day. It doesn’t have to be just one perfect moment when I know I am seen … loved. I know there are going to be an entire lifetime of them.

I arrive at the end of the aisle to meet my groom. He doesn’t wait for the minister to give him permission to kiss me, which causes a few chuckles from our assembled guests.

‘Hey, you …’ I say when we pull away to look at each other.

‘Hey yourself,’ he says back.