and set off in Adamâs Fiat for Epsom.
The narrow road where the church was situated was lined with cars. Adam squeezed the Fiat into a space on the verge between a Jag and a Land Rover, and he and Megan made their way to the church.
Adam had no particular expectations of the occasion. He was prepared to be mildly bored, since he knew no one and assumed Megan would spend most of her time talking to old school friends. He had his doubts about the relevance of his presence there at all. It was only as they nudged their way into a pew on the brideâs side, and Megan began to introduce Adam to the various couples around them, that he understood his role. It was bemusing. He had never, until this moment, thought of himself as being anyoneâs appendage. He was part of a unit. Theentire congregation, he realized, consisted of little family units. That was how everyone was identified. The bride and groom were their own about-to-be unit, there were aunts and uncles, mothers and fathers, grandmothers and grandfathers, themselves little units forming a much bigger one. There were young-married-couple units â a lot of them, it seemed â with toddlers and very new babies. The sense of being identified according to which unit you belonged to, even down to the business of being ushered to the correct side of the church â bride or groom? â was peculiarly strong. Adam decided he didnât care for it. When he and Megan were with people socially in London, although they were together, so to speak, he was not conscious of being identified as a couple. Here he felt his entire existence was defined only by his relationship to Megan.
âThis is Adam,â Megan said, introducing him to people. In context, these innocuous words seemed to have âand heâs mineâ automatically tagged on at the end. He knew the thought was unfair to Megan, but he couldnât help it. He didnât like being seen as someoneâs accessory, or other half. He realized, with sudden misgivings, how happy Megan seemed to be in the cosiness of it all.
He smiled politely at the various people Megan introduced him to, but had nothing to say. It simply wasnât the right set-up for conversation. While Megan chatted to a red-faced young woman in the pew behind, who was struggling to contain a boisterous one-year-old on her lap, Adam kept himself amused with a quick riffle through the Book of Common Prayer.
Suddenly there was a rustling and murmuring andturning of heads. Adam assumed this heralded the entrance of the bride. Odd, he thought, since the organ music was still pootering tunelessly along, instead of blasting out something triumphal. He turned round, along with everyone else, and was astonished to see Bella entering the church with Charlie and Claire and a few friends. What on earth were they doing here? Megan would certainly have mentioned if any of her friends knew the Day family, so presumably they were here on account of the groom. He gazed at Bella, musing on the coincidence. She looked, Adam thought, utterly amazing. She was wearing a suede skirt of a dusty shade of pink, a cashmere top of the same colour, and boots. No hat. Her raggedly cut blonde hair was longer than when he had last seen her. But it wasnât the way she looked that went straight to Adamâs heart â it was the expression on her face. Conscious of the attention she was attracting, she looked defensive, yet provocatively proud and endearingly apologetic all at the same time. Adam found himself smiling as he turned back to his perusal of Psalm 21.
âThatâs Bella Day!â whispered Megan.
âI know,â said Adam. Ever since heâd had lunch with George Meacher, heâd been debating how best to tackle the ticklish issue of Meacherâs unlikely story about the adoption. Seeing Bella here today, delightful though it was, only served to remind him that he had to do something about it soon. Today,
David Stuart Davies
Charles L. Grant
Pete Hamill
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Trice Hickman
Karen Booth
Willow Winters
Terri-Lynne Defino
Patricia Wentworth
Lucy Hay