Chapter 49

How could the sun fail to shine on such a special day as this? How could the sky be anything but brilliant blue? True, there were one or two dark clouds on the horizon – but they would not be allowed to encroach on the brightness of the day. Today was too important to everyone involved. Today Timothy and Nicola were going to be married, and the ceremony would be witnessed by all the people who mattered most to them.

Timothy was there, standing at the front of the church, dressed in his hired morning suit, as devastatingly handsome as a groom could look. His best man, Ben – a friend from his school days – hovered ready to lend his support. Nervously, Ben kept fingering the ring in his pocket, to make sure it was still there. He would be glad when they reached the part where he had to hand it over.

The pew behind Timothy was reserved. Several cushions had been placed in the aisle corner of the pew. Ten minutes before the appointed hour there was a flurry of activity. A nurse appeared with a wheelchair, in which sat a tiny, bent figure with the biggest smile of anyone present. As the wheelchair progressed up the aisle, it was followed by Claudia and Fran. Nigel stayed at the back with his camera poised.

Timothy and Ben gently lifted Maria and placed her among the cushions. Maria had insisted that she wasn’t going to spend the whole time in the wheelchair. Claudia sat next to her and held her hand. Fran was next, and a space was reserved for Nigel who wanted to wait at the back and capture the moment of the bride’s arrival.

The organ struck the notes of the Wedding March. All heads turned to look. There stood Nicola, a vision of loveliness, her exquisite white dress ending in a small train that trailed behind her as she walked steadily up the aisle on the arm of her brother, her bridesmaids behind her. Timothy was clearly bursting with pride and happiness as he watched her approach. Nicola paused just before she reached him, and bending down, kissed Maria. Then she smiled at Claudia and Fran, before joining the man who would very soon be her husband. Timothy gazed at her, unable to take his eyes off her, and took her hand in a firm grip, as if he would never let her go.

‘Doesn’t she look amazing!’ whispered Maria to her sister.

‘And Timothy looks so handsome!’ responded Claudia.

‘What a wonderful couple they make! They look so happy!’ breathed Fran.

‘Anyone like a large hankie?’ enquired Nigel.

The vows were exchanged and the ring was produced without mishap. There was some dabbing of eyes in the family pew, but they were tears of joy. The wedding had taken place, and Maria had been there. The bridal party moved off to the vestry for the signing of the register.

They had agreed, previously, that there would be no attempt to bring Maria forward at that point – it would have been too much for her. Timothy had worried that she would not last until the day – her illness was clearly marching inexorably onwards – and although she never complained, he knew that the pain was becoming hard to bear. He had discussed this with Nicola, and they had even tried to bring the ceremony forward a week, but changing the arrangements had proved impossible. Nicola had said she thought the will to live until the appointed day would carry Maria through, and she was proved right.

Claudia was glowing for more than one reason. It wasn’t just that the ceremony had been so moving. On the way to the church Fran and Nigel had imparted some news, and she longed for the chance to share it with Maria. But this was not the moment – nothing must detract from concentrating on Maria’s thrill of seeing her son marrying Nicola.

Someone gave a signal and the organ struck up once more, the triumphant notes of Widor’s Toccata resounding through the building. There stood the bride and groom, arm in arm, broad smiles on their faces, beginning their walk back down the aisle. All those present rose to their feet – except one. The bride and groom broke with tradition, stopping as soon as they reached the second pew. A great deal of hugging and embracing, and expressions of good wishes took place, mingled with not a few tears. At last the procession continued on its way.

In all the bustle and commotion, with the organ tones ringing in the rafters, only those close by saw Maria keel forward. Claudia grasped hold of her, and managed to prevent her from collapsing completely.

‘I’ll ring for an ambulance,’ said Fran.

Maria seemed to be unconscious, but then she opened her eyes. With great difficulty she said, ‘Tell them they must carry on – that is my wish. They must continue to be happy – that was what they promised me.’

Fran went to tell the best man, and the ambulance drew up round the side of the church. Strong arms lifted Maria on to a stretcher.

‘I’ll go with her,’ said Claudia. ‘Please, Fran, you stay – then you can tell me all about it.’

The ambulance men were just shutting the doors when Timothy and Nicola appeared. Once again Maria found the strength to speak. Claudia stood apart, knowing they were saying their goodbyes.

Timothy spoke to Claudia.

‘We shall do what she has asked, and what we know she wants. She wants this to be a joyous day for us, and we shall make it so. Thank God she was there – that makes it possible for us to carry on.’

They both wiped their eyes, before going back to smile for the cameras.

Claudia climbed into the ambulance and took Maria’s hand in hers. There was no strength in Maria’s grip. At the hospital they put her in a small, private room. A doctor came and gave her a morphine injection.

‘I’m afraid it is only a matter of time,’ he said.

Claudia spoke softly. ‘Maria, my dear, the wedding was just wonderful! And what do you think? I’m going to be a grandmother!’

But Maria did not speak again. Claudia went on sitting there, holding her sister’s hand. She sat there long after the hand had become quite cold.

At last she stood up, bending to kiss her sister’s brow. Then she went to find her daughter, and the new life that was just beginning.