by Jacobs, Anna
His voice was low and husky and he had never looked so handsome – or so loving. She stared at him and knew she’d have to give in. She’d been lucky in love, so very lucky, and this was a small price to pay for marrying Ben. But she still hated the thought of a fancy wedding. ‘Oh, hell!’
Silence tiptoed around them as he waited, arms folded across his chest.
‘You’re a rat, Elless!’
‘And?’
‘And I’ll do it your way. But don’t expect me to like it.’
He picked her up in his arms and swung her round. ‘You will. We’re going to have the best damned wedding there ever was. Shall I ring my mother first or shall you ring yours?’
She shuddered. ‘I’ll get it over with.’ She picked up the phone, took a deep breath and said brightly, ‘Mum? Guess what? . . . ’
* * * *
A month later a big four-wheel drive purred into the small country town of York, Western Australia. The sun was shining and the town looked dusty, the people hurrying from one patch of shade to the next. The vehicle didn’t stop in the town centre but drove on through, following the new, elegant signposts that said SOMERLEE COUNTRY RETREAT.
The driveway was wide and neatly gravelled, with plants and flowers all the way along the sides. They were still young, but had space to spread and many were already in bloom or displaying beautiful foliage.
The central complex of the small, exclusive development stood at some distance from the original house, in a spot overlooking the new lake.
All the buildings were in the old colonial style, with tin roofs and wide, fly-screened verandas. Behind the central complex, pathways led to the individual units, but the units themselves were also screened by blocks of vegetation, so that only glimpses of them could be seen from the entrance road.
Beyond the buildings, gleaming in the sun, was a lake, bordered on one edge by the line of original willow trees. A path circled the stretch of sparkling water, begging people to walk round it, and here and there were shaded seats in case anyone wanted to sit and commune with nature.
At one point there was a circular paved area, with stone seats built into the low wall that surrounded it. This was becoming very popular for weddings.
The owners’ house was screened from the guests’ area by a group of young gum trees and a low fence bore a sign saying PRIVATE. The vehicle turned that way.
As the visitors drew up, Meriel came hurrying out of the house, beaming, and the two women embraced. ‘Rosanna and Karl!’ She lowered her voice. ‘Thank goodness you’re here! My mother’s been here for four days and I’m already dreaming of shooting her.’
‘It’s all looking great. You’ve done a lot since last time we came.’
‘Wait till you see it when some of the fast-growing trees mature. Ben’s done some lovely watercolours of what it’ll be like. I’ve never seen a man so happy.’
‘You don’t seem unhappy yourself,’ her friend commented. ‘Whenever we meet you’re bubbling over with enthusiasm for something.’
‘I am happy, very – except for this wedding stuff, but Ben’s lapping all that up. He even thinks my mother’s amusing. Ha!’
‘Where are your resident hippies? I’d like to catch up with Ria again.’
‘They’ve finished building their eco-house and live over the brow of the hill now. We’ve given them a couple of acres. They’ll be with us for the wedding.’ She paused and gestured to two dogs, who were sitting panting and grinning up at them. ‘Dillon visits us regularly. He’s a great favourite with the visitors and inspects them all carefully for us. Tina follows him around so closely I’m sure she’s in love.’
She chuckled. ‘Actually, the Back to the Sixties aspect of our resort is very popular indeed. People come here, buy flower people clothes, burn sticks of incense and really chill out. Ben’s not the only one to have good ideas, you know. Ria and I do too.’
She bounced to her feet and went across the room. ‘I took the liberty of putting a bottle of champers in the fridge.’ When she’d poured them a glass each and herself a thimbleful, she said softly, ‘Here’s to us!’
A voice from the doorway made them both jump. ‘I knew you’d be into that champagne, Ingram, as soon as my back was turned. Are you an alcoholic or what?’
Meriel bounced to her feet. ‘Look here, Elless. One quarter of a glass isn’t going to hurt the baby and it’s not every day Rosanna comes to help me get married, so butt out.’
He walked across and gave her a quick hug. ‘I didn’t realise I was marrying a secret drinker.’
Meriel pretended to slap the side of his face. ‘I said watch it, you!’
He poured himself a glass and smiled at their friends. ‘Tomorrow can’t come too soon for me, but she’s a bit on edge, so treat her gently.’
‘Make that a lot on edge,’ Meriel said sourly.
‘It’ll be all right,’ Rosanna soothed. ‘My wedding was great fun.’
Meriel just sighed and didn’t waste her energy arguing. Everyone else was happy about all the fuss, but not the bride.
* * * *
The next day dawned bright and clear, but fortunately not too hot for the overseas guests. Sunlight and laughter threaded the day.
Meriel wore a calf-length dress of ivory silk, her hair as simply styled as ever. On her head she wore a wreath of fresh flowers created by Ben and in her hands she carried a posy he’d made, as did her matron of honour, Rosanna.
And when the bride and groom made their vows, using words they’d written themselves, few people stayed dry-eyed, because love rang in every word, shone in every glance.
‘Your piece was beautiful, Ben,’ Meriel said as they had their photograph taken yet again.
‘I meant every word, my darling. I really am the luckiest man on earth.’
Time hung suspended for a moment, then she dabbed at her eyes and smiled mistily at him. ‘Look what you’re doing to me. I don’t usually do sentimental stuff.’
‘You do now.’
Copyright © 2011 by Anna Jacobs; published by Anna Jacobs at Belgrave House
Cover Copyright 2011 David Jacobs
Originally published by Severn House [ISBN 978-0727869340]
Electronically published in 2013 by Anna Jacobs at Belgrave House
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This is a work of fiction. All names in this publication are fictitious and any resemblance to any person living or dead is
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