'We knew you didn't know,' said Amaryllis, giving Jock a ten pound note. 'Jock and I had a bet on - he didn't think you'd find out until today, but I thought you might have guessed earlier.'
'Wouldn't it have been simpler just to tell me about it?' said Christopher. He was finding it hard not to spoil this big day by getting cross.
'Yes, but not so much fun,' said Amaryllis. She must have taken pity on him, for she added, 'Most of it was arranged that weekend you had Caroline and the kids to stay. It wasn't just that you weren't listening.'
'Did you get married on the train, Jemima?' said Christopher. He had the oddly familiar feeling of having lost his way and fallen through a crack into a parallel universe.
'No, of course not, that would be silly,' said Jemima. 'We got married at Paradise Halt. I read about it in the paper.'
Christopher wished he could go back to his own much more rational universe and get on with his daily routine. It was about time for a lunch-time drink at the Queen of Scots.
'It's a station halt on the route between Bo'ness and Dalmeny,' said Amaryllis, putting her arm through his in a comforting gesture. 'It's been invented by some hotel company to try and get the wedding trade. It's all big business now, you know.'
'Maybe I should go into weddings instead of quilts,' said Maisie Sue.
'I wouldn't do that if I were you,' said Amaryllis. 'It would be too depressing.'
'Weddings? Depressing?' queried Maisie Sue.
'Yes - just imagine seeing all those unsuspecting people about to make the biggest mistake of their lives, and knowing they'll regret it before the end of the day,' said Amaryllis.
'Hey, wait a minute!' said Dave, grasping even through his euphoria that he was being insulted.
'Come along, now,' said Jemima. 'We're having our reception at the Queen of Scots - everybody welcome.'
Looking resplendent in deep purple with a very stylish flowery fascinator - Christopher knew what they were called from watching the televised highlights of a recent royal wedding - Jemima led the way.
'Congratulations!' said Maisie Sue, falling into step beside them all. Was there a trace of envy in her voice? Maybe not, given the events of the past few weeks. Christopher knew she had told Amaryllis the self-help books were right and there was no point in expecting anyone else to guarantee your own happiness.
Christopher was still sort of hoping the self-help books were wrong.
The End
Author's Note
Cecilia Peartree is a pen name. I live in Edinburgh, where I work in an art gallery by day and help with community theatre by night, which doesn’t always leave much time to work on my mystery, historical and sci-fi novels.
'Death at the Happiness Club' is the latest in my quirky mystery series set in a small town in Scotland. The others are 'Crime in the Community', 'Reunited in Death' and 'A Reformed Character'.
Read my blog at http://ceciliapeartree.wordpress.com
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