Bound by Ivy (27 page)

85

The sun
glows overhead as Jen and Tanya lead me across the grass.

I’m holding
their hands tightly as we near the woods and I don’t let go, even when we near the woodland path.

Jen is holding up the silk skirt of my dress so it doesn’t trail along the dew sodden
ground. It’s still early – 10am – and the sun hasn’t chased away the night-time damp just yet.

Tanya is carrying my bouquet.

A gorgeous yellow sun shines down from a clear blue sky, and I can’t help smiling as we enter the dark woods, even though my stomach is churning with nervous excitement.

‘Deep breaths, deep breaths,’ says Jen, squeezing my hand. ‘Nearly there now.’

We head along the woodland path, where sunlight speckles the soil and a thick canopy of green leaves cools the air.

We
walk carefully over the bumpy, baked ground one step at a time. One, two, one, two. Breathe, breathe, breathe.

As we near the clearing, my smile grows even wider
as I see Dad up ahead. He’s waiting for me at the entrance of the fairy circle, wearing a brand new tuxedo and beaming with delight as he sees me approach.

‘You look beautiful
, love. Absolutely beautiful.’ He dabs at his eyes.

Jen lifts my hand and
gently links it through my father’s arm.

Tanya gives my
other hand a reassuring squeeze and hands me my bouquet.

‘Ready to give me away?’ I ask Dad.

‘Ready,’ says Dad.

Jen and Tanya come to stand behind me, lifting the silk at the back of my dress.

We begin to walk forward, heading into the clearing.

86

From the woven arches of branches overhead, to the dapples of sunlight shining onto our guests, everything is absolutely perfect.

I decided I didn’t want music at the ceremony, just the sounds of the trees and the birds. The stillness that comes from the woods.

At the far side of the clearing is a wooden altar, made by Marc’s friend, Peter.

The
altar is carved with ivy leaves and roses, and behind it sits Tom, wearing one of the fanciest suits I’ve ever seen him in – brown with green piping, and paisley swirls on the lapels.

Around the clearing stand our guests, all w
atching me with huge smiles.

T
he guest smiling the most has to be Annabel. She’s right near the entrance to the clearing, and she looks like a different person these days.

D
ressed in a simple light-green summer dress, white daisies woven into her hair, she holds a beautiful little boy in her arms – Daniel, her son.

Daniel rests
his head against her shoulder, sucking his thumb and looking totally and utterly content.

Danny
Blackwell. Back with his mother at last. I’ve loved getting to know him over the last few weeks. He’s shy and often seems deep in thought, but he’s always ready to smile too. I’ve taken him to the cottage a few times to play with Sammy and the two of them are becoming great friends.

Before I walk into the clearing, I stop to ruffle Daniel’s hair.

‘Are you liking all the trees, Danny?’ I whisper.

He nods shyly
and smiles.

Denise is
beside Annabel, holding hands with Sammy.

I smile
at Denise and kneel down to Sammy.

‘What about you, short stuff? Do you like trees?’

Sammy nods and leans against Denise’s arm. It hasn’t taken long for Sammy to fall in love with Denise, just like Dad has.

When Genoveva found out that Dad was with someone else, she started calling him. Apparently, her doctor boyfriend went back to his wife and now she has no one.

Dad told her that he didn’t want to get back together, but arranged fortnightly visits so she can see Sammy. Sometimes she remembers to visit, sometimes she doesn’t.

‘Shall you and I
climb some trees later?’ I ask Sammy.

‘YES!’
he bellows, a little too loudly.

The crowd
laughs.

It’s all
so perfect, but of course the most perfect thing is Marc, standing by the wooden altar.

He’s wearing a fitted, jet-black suit – so bl
ack it seems to drink in colour – and his hair is thick around his ears. His long, lean body is perfectly still, waiting for me. Although he has his back to me, I sense there’s a smile on his face.

I stand up straight, take a d
eep breath and link arms with Dad again.

‘Ready?’ Dad whispers.

I nod, and Dad walks me across the clearing towards Marc.

As we crunch over twigs and old leaves, Marc turns and our eyes meet.

It’s the most amazing moment. His eyes are so dark. So intense and stormy. He hasn’t lost his dark side. Not completely. But I definitely see light in him. Lots and lots of light.

His eyes
still undo me. For a moment, I lose my footing and Dad has to grip my arm tighter to get me walking straight.

Marc raises an eyebrow, and gives me a
n ‘are you alright?’ smile.

I return it
with a nod and smile of my own, then take the last few steps towards him.

Dad carefully places my hand in Marc’s, and Marc and I stand for a moment, our eyes holding each other.

I have never felt more loved than I do right now, standing beside Marc, among all our friends and family, about to bind my life to his.

Tom clears his throat. ‘Okay you two. It’s clear to everyone that you
want
to get married. So are you ready to go ahead and do it?’

Gentle laughter fills the clearing.

I nod. ‘Yes.’

‘I’ve ne
ver been more ready,’ says Marc.

Our vows are simple.

We pledge to love each other for the rest of our lives.

Then Tom gives us the rings – two silver bands engraved with weaving roses and ivy.

I slip the band onto Marc’s finger, my hand shaking a little. Finally, the ring slides into place and I hold out my own hand for Marc.

When Marc places
the wedding band onto my finger, I look up into his deep blue eyes.

‘I love you,’ I
murmur.

‘I love you
too, Sophia Blackwell,’ says Marc. ‘Forever and always.’

87

After the ceremony in the woods, Marc and I are driven by
limousine to the registry office to sign our marriage papers. I’m shaking for the whole journey, a crazy, sobbing, smiling quivering mess in Marc’s arms.

I can’t believe it. Marc Blackwell has just made me his wife. To have and to hold. Always.

‘I’m praying those are tears of joy, Mrs Blackwell,’ Marc whispers. ‘Because there’s no backing out now. You’re mine. Forever.’

‘I know,’ I manage to sob, trying
to get my voice steady. ‘I’m so happy.’

Marc lifts my chin, tilting my face so I
look up into those strong, burning blue eyes.

‘I’m never letting you go again,’ he says.
‘Ever. I will love you and take care of you for the rest of my life.’

*****

When Marc and I return to Ivy College, we find our guests sitting in a circle around a huge picnic blanket on the lawn. They’re drinking champagne and fresh orange juice served by hovering waiters.

A round of applause brea
ks out as we approach, and I feel strangely shy to be the centre of attention among all these people that I love.

I know I’m an actress, but in real life
I’m used to looking after people. It feels strange to be the one everyone is focusing on.

‘
It’s so amazing to see you all,’ I manage to say, as Dad and Jen move apart to let Marc and I sit down. ‘Thank you so much for being here.’

Marc and I are handed champagne, and we
drink and talk and laugh under the sunshine until lunch is served from wicker picnic baskets.

Jen made sure we got the very best food for the picnic, of course – a
hand-picked delicatessen lunch from Harrods, delivered with real silver cutlery and china plates.

The hampers are full of delicious
pies, sandwiches, scotch eggs, salads, smoked salmon, fresh strawberries and clotted cream.

As the day moves on, I notice that Jen an
d Leo are talking and laughing away. They’re sitting so close that their heads are practically touching.

I smile
. Leo is perfect for Jen. And it looks like Leo knows just how perfect Jen is for him, too.

It really is the most amazing, glorious, loving, happy day. To be
surrounded by love from my friends and family, but most of all from Marc, well ... I’ve never felt anything like it.

I didn’t organise
speeches or anything like that, but as the sun begins to set, Jen raises her glass and says, ‘A toast to Mr and Mrs Blackwell.’

E
veryone cheers, raising their glasses.

‘Oh, wait,’ I say, getting to my feet. ‘There’s something I forgot to do.’ I pick up the bouquet of ivy and roses
. ‘I need to throw this,’ I announce, turning my back on the crowd.

I hear murmurs and laughter as female guests get to their feet.

‘Ready?’ I call. ‘One, two, three!’

I throw the bouquet high i
nto the air, and turn to see it land between Jen and Tanya, who both catch the ivy and roses with one hand. They turn to each other, laughing with disbelief.

‘We both caught it,’ laughs Jen.

‘Looks like we’ll have to have a double wedding,’ says Tanya.

‘I’m up for it if you are.
’

88

When I sit back on the grass, a waiter comes to top up my champagne glass.

‘Oh, no thank you,’ I say
, holding my fingers over it. ‘I think I’d better stick to orange juice from now on.’

I f
eel Marc’s arm tighten around my waist. ‘Are you okay? Do you need me to take you for a walk? To clear your head?’

‘No. I’ve only had one glass of champagne so far. It’s just ... I have a feeling about something.’

‘A feeling?’

‘Yes. After last night. It was the first time we ever ... I mean without protection.’

Suddenly, I feel like we’re the only two people in the whole world.

‘Sophia, it’s far too soon to know anything like that.’

‘But where my body is concerned, my feelings aren’t usually wrong. And I feel this pretty strongly.’

‘Do you feel ill? Do you need a doctor?’

I shake my head. ‘No, it’s nothing like that. Nothing physical. It’s just ... a feeling.’

Marc slides his hand
around to my stomach, his eyes fixed on mine. He pulls me tight into his body.

‘Let’s hope your feeling is correct.’

‘And if it is?’

‘
Then you, Mrs Blackwell, will be a wonderful mother. And I will be the happiest man in the world.’

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