I felt a little out of place. As something akin to an acquaintance of the happy couple, I'd no real idea which side of the aisle to sit, but a cheery lad of about ten years had pointed me to the left side, and now I sat watching the proceedings with interest.
Jem stood at the front, this was a civil ceremony, so no altar as such. She looked lovely in a white trouser suit with a white jacket on top. The best man, beside her, could only be her brother. The same aquiline nose, black hair and piercing blue eyes. Jem rocked from foot to foot, nervous. She jumped as the recording of the bridal march played, peering over her shoulder to watch as Sue began her short walk from the back of our village hall.
Sue looked stunning. Five foot two inches of cute beauty and attitude was squeezed into a flowing white dress, her long blonde hair topped with a glittering tiara and a short veil. Her smile lit up the room as she made her journey to take her place with Jem. Her father walked with her, her hand on his arm. He smiled at Jem as he took his daughter's hand and placed it in hers.
The two giggling bridesmaids, neither over twelve years old, took their places behind her.
The Humanist celebrant they'd chosen made the service a pleasure to witness, and soon we were all standing outside in the spring sunshine for the photographs.
Once the young photographer had taken shots of almost every possible combination of attendees, even me, in a group shot, we were ushered back into the transformed hall.
Rows of tables had replaced the previous seating, each one topped with a pristine white cloth, a floral arrangement, and gleaming cutlery perfectly placed as caterers scurried about seating folks.
I was glad to be seated near to the back, at a table with some of the few people I recognised at the affair. I'd been a neighbour to Jem and Sue for the three years I'd live in Wolton, but knew neither of their families. Ken and Mary, who lived opposite me, took the seats to my left.
"It was beautiful, wasn't it, Jim," Mary said, still dabbing a handkerchief at her puffy eyes.
"They make a lovely couple," Ken agreed. "You know, I wasn't sure of them when they moved here, but we couldn't have nicer neighbours."
"Because of their sexuality?" I asked.
Ken nodded. "It wasn't done when we were young. I'd no experience of... what is it they call it? Same sex couples?"
I nodded. Ken and Mary had lived in Wolton all their lives, and must be in their late eighties. "And now?" I asked.
"Times change. They're harming no one, they're obviously happy."
"And Bob and Simon?" I asked, nodding towards the recently arrived new owners of our village shop and post office.
"Men is harder for me. It's how I was brought up. I don't judge them, though. Seeing them kiss makes me uneasy, that's all."
"If you don't judge them, I'm sure that's all they ask, Ken," I said.
"You don't have anyone then, Jim?" Mary asked.
"I like women, if that's what you're asking, Mary. I've had a few long term relationships - I was even engaged once. It never worked out for me."
"We have been so blessed," Ken said, squeezing Mary's hand. "We've know each other since we were nippers. There was never anyone else I was going to marry."
"My dad didn't give you much choice!" Mary said, laughing.
"Mary!" Ken said, blushing.
"What? There's no shame in it like there was then." She turned to me. "Our Tom, rest his soul, was born seven months after our wedding. My dad was the gamekeeper then, had a shotgun and everything," she said nudging Ken.
"Hush, woman," Ken said, but he couldn't avoid smiling.
The food, for a catered event, was good. There were only sixty people there, and the caterers were professionals from the city. I managed a brief chat with Jem and Sue before the tables were cleared once more, and the dancing started. I stayed for half an hour, but I'm no dancer and made my way home before eight.
* * *
I noticed the car in the driveway next door on the Friday morning, two weeks later. I finished my morning coffee and went round to knock on the back door.
"Jim! Come in. It's lovely to see you," Sue said, pulling me inside. She stood on tiptoes and kissed my cheek. "Jem! Jim's here," she called.
I took in Sue's tanned skin as she filled the kettle. Her petite body was dressed in skin-tight jeans and something akin to sports bra covered the prominent breasts she was blessed with. Her blonde hair looked lighter - sun bleached, I supposed.
"Jim!" Jem said, striding into the kitchen. She hugged me and kissed my cheek. "Have a seat."
I sat at the busy kitchen table. Magazines, keys, empty coffee cups, and their passports were scattered about. Jem began to tidy up.
"How was the honeymoon?" I asked.
"Antigua was sublime," Sue said, placing a coffee mug in front of me. "Warm seas, golden sands, palm trees. We spent so much time in the sun," she said, stretching a golden arm for my inspection.
"You both look good," I said, noticing a glance between them as Jem sat beside me. "When are you back to work?"
"I have surgery on Monday," Jem said. She was a partner at the local veterinary practice - strictly small animals.
"I've actually got a wedding tomorrow," Sue sighed. She was a photographer. Family portraits and weddings were her bread and butter, but I'd seem some of her wildlife portraits in a gallery in town. She definitely had talent.
"What about you, Jim?" Sue asked.
"The usual," I said. "Odd jobs at the hospice on Monday and Wednesday, animal sanctuary on Friday and Saturday." I'd worked in finance for twenty-five years after I left university, though I'd always longed to do something more practical. I'd got lucky. A tip off from a colleague led me to a short term investment that netted me a small fortune. Not mansions and Rolls-Royces rich, but, if I was careful, I never had to work again. I volunteered my time, and played in my workshop making furniture and crafts. You'd find me with a table at a local craft fair most Sundays.
"Do you enjoy it?" Jem asked. "You don't have any overriding ambitions?"
"I'm lazy," I said, smiling. "It's why I've never married. The hospice is just fixing and painting, the animal sanctuary is scraping up poo and re-homing cats, dogs and bunnies."
"We love your furniture," Sue said. I remembered that I'd sold them a pair of bedside cabinets not long after I moved here. It was the first time we'd met. "We were going to ask you if you'd make us a bed."
"Could do," I said. "You want it in Ash, the same as the cabinets?"
"Mm hm, come and look," Sue said, bouncing to her feet. She took my hand, dragging me towards the stairs. Jem gave me an indulgent smile.
The bedroom was a mess, clothes strewn everywhere. "We're not usually this untidy," Jem said, picking up some discarded underwear and dropping it into a hamper. "Only just unpacking."
"Just where the bed is now, but we want a bigger one," Sue said, bouncing on the mattress. She produced a measuring tape, handing me the end. I held it to the side of the bedside cabinet while Sue stretched it across the bed. "See, there's room for a king size bed."
"I'll do some sketches for you," I said. "Headboard and footboard, or do you want a divan?"
"Actually, I've always fancied one of those sleigh beds," Jem said.
"I'll get on it this weekend."
* * *
The weeks passed. I was contented in my quiet life. The bed was complete, and I'd arranged to install it for Jem and Sue on Wednesday evening. Jem came to the door in answer to my knock. She wore a mid-thigh dress and was barefoot. Her lithe figure still showed the remnants of the honeymoon tan. "Hi Jim," she said. The kisses had progressed from cheek to lips over the last weeks. I didn't complain. The bedroom was tidy, this time, and the space had been cleared. A new mattress stood against the wall, still wrapped in plastic. Jem explained that Sue would be home shortly, as we carried the parts of the bed up the narrow stairs. "She's got a family shoot, and they wanted an evening. She's so excited about the bed."
