Something to Declare by Cyclist

Chapter 55

The final part of my tale.

It was a glorious summer morning in August, and I was rushing. Those of you who have regularly worn proper stockings will laugh at my discomfort, but I was determined to be as feminine under my gown as I could manage outside it. This was my thank-you to the most wonderful man I knew, and my entry to a world I had once seen only through a cracked window and from afar.

I wore the bandeau, as an old item, white satin court shoes with a modest heel as the new. My locket was around my neck, and some blue knickers mismatched the rest of my clothes for obvious reasons. A bracelet of small pearls was on my right wrist, borrowed from Naomi to complete the rhyme. Jan, Kelly and Naomi had spent all morning working on my face and hands, putting my hair up in a style similar to that I had worn at the rugby dinner, centuries ago. I had a veil pinned to the top of what seemed like an awful lot of hair, and I smiled at the memory of Kelly’s demand that I never cut it

It had turned out that Stewart, in his retirement from the Corps, ran a specialist car hire company and had managed to source an antique Rolls Royce for the day. I smiled at the memory of him returning Geoff the morning after the stag night, grey-green in the face and not appreciating my offer of a Full Welsh breakfast with bara lawr a chocos, as for some reason the thought of a plateful of seaweed and shellfish seemed to cause him distress. Poor lamb.

Mind you, my own hen night was pretty much a mystery to me the next day, until the ambush memories started kicking in. By far the worst was of a whole string of friends and colleagues, and colleague-friends, INCLUDING c-m-V, lining up to inspect the surgeon’s work n the ladies’ at Bar Two. Oh dear. And the pink furry cowboy hat and learner driver L-plates I found next to the bed, and the fact that my bra was with my knickers in my handbag.

Extreme blushing, even for me. Naomi called me to let me know the car was ready, and that my life was ending. How fortunate was I, then, to have a new one ready and waiting for me a short ride away. I had a thought about Melanie, and how she had lost everything, but I couldn’t help a smile as I realised that she would literally be at my wedding.

Sleep well, girl

Sally, Naomi and Albert rode with me, the two girls fussing over me the whole journey, and we arrived at the same gate we had carried poor Melanie through. I was helped out by my entourage, all in matching lilac gowns and looking gorgeous. Kelly was almost dancing in excitement, and before she could speak I held out a manicured, if wiry, hand to silence her.

“If you say ‘Aunty Steffy’ just once today I will find them and burn them. And don’t pout, you’ll spoil your lips”

Naomi confirmed all was ready, and Albert, in a spiffy morning suit, took my arm and dropped my veil.

Deep breaths, girl. Walk tall, walk smoothly, imagine the book on your head, and whatever you do don’t fart.

As we entered, the organist made a valiant attempt at the Widor toccata from his fifth organ symphony. Not bad; I had asked for anything other than the usual dirge about coming brides, and the Mendelssohn was a little hackneyed.

The church was packed. Geoff was at the altar with Dave, both fully and formally attired in the same style as Albert. As I passed down the aisle I saw colleagues and friends, many in the OLD uniform rather than the new rubbish, a phalanx of bootnecks, several coppers I knew from work, the Grahams with little Ashley in a really extreme party dress, Jerry and his wife, a seemingly unlimited number of Chandrasekhars around Raj, and the family.

My family. My joy and my delight, my saviours and my life and my amazing good fortune.

I looked to the other side, and there was Naomi, crying happily. Geoff turned to look at me, and that smile hit me like a warm breeze, the smile I had first seen nearly two years before. I remember what I said, about how he makes the world’s dark places illuminated with that smile.

I took my place, and Simon’s smile almost rivalled that of my beautiful man.

“Dearly beloved…..”

“Do you, Stephanie Bronwen Jones, take this man…”

“ Is there anyone here who knows of any just…”

“I now pronounce you man and wife. Kiss her, Geoff”

The organist played “Jesu, Joy” as we walked arm in arm out through double lines of uniforms to begin the round of photographs and bride kissing, and it came to the point where I had to hurl my bouquet to the ladies.

Do you know, I swear I saw Sally stick an elbow in Sue’s ribs as she took the flowers. Stewart had a very appraising look on his face as she grinned at him, and then cracked a smile.

“What the hell, neither of us is getting any younger. Shall we?”

I rather think my proposal was a touch more romantic, but from the way Sally tackled him I don’t think she cared. They were so obviously good for each other I felt painfully happy.

“Penny for them, Mrs Woodruff?”

“Just remembering trying to get out of a tent in a dress two years ago, husband of mine”

“ I would prefer to think of getting you out of that dress, wife!”

We adjourned to the church hall, where Dave made his speech as best man.

“Ladies, gentlemen, cussers, bootnecks, rozzers, trick cyclists, sky pilots and stray punters looking for the toilets. Thank you all for coming here to share with my best friend and her new husband the joy and delight of their nuptials. I find myself in an odd position here, as the stories I should be telling about the groom are actually more applicable to the bride!”

After a roar of laughter, he continued.

“Besides which, despite Steph’s earlier medical issues, I doubt my wife would be too happy to hear some of the better ones. Perhaps, when we have lubricated our tongues and minds I may be able to deliver the goods in private sessions. My fees are reasonable, but not negotiable, unless that involves a decent single malt”

More laughter.

“The journey to this wonderful day has been long and hard, especially for the happy couple themselves, but we are now here, the past is the past, and the future is unlimited. Ladies, gentleman, tools of the fascist oppressors, please raise your glasses. I give you that fabulous rhyming pair, the bride and groom, Steph and Geoff Woodruff!”

A roar went up: “Steph and Geoff!”

Albert and Big Bill said their bits, and I saw Naomi and Angela cuddling and crying again, and when the music started I got to do my “backwards in heels” thing. The various bridesmaids made bee lines to selected uniforms, jackets and ties were discarded and food was inhaled. I had come a long, long way and fully intended to keep going, and with this man beside me I could see nothing ahead that could frighten me.

I passed from partner to partner, Dave, Albert, both Johns, Stewart, even Raj and Simon, till I was back with my darling, fe fyddwn i dy garu di am byth, fy nghariad, am byth..

We left in the van, with walking gear, bikes and rock kit, and headed off for our hotel, a rather comfortable one in Llanberis. I took my wedding and engagement rings off several times, but only so as not to damage them on the long routes we did at Cyrn Las and Gogarth in gorgeous late Summer sun, the joy of balance and grace at height above watching seals followed by more Earthbound pursuits back at the hotel. We shared a hot flask in the shelter on Foel Grach, and a passing walker took our picture on the Cantilever rock on Glyder Fach.

We made memories and took photos, and we even went to a local indoor swimming complex where I got to try out the minute bikini I had sneaked along without telling Geoff, and it pleased him so much on me that he had to try it off me that evening, and it was all very, very newly-wed. Even now, as I write this, my eyes look into the distance and I smile at the memories.

And then….and then we were back at the festival, our third together, meeting up with our family. The woman who issued the wristbands recognised us, and I let her see my left hand, and she squealed. Bill laughed, and said

“We have five tickets booked. A junior for Miss K Woodruff, two adults for Mr and Mrs W Woodruff, and two adults for Mr and Mrs G Woodruff”

And we danced.