THERE WASN’T A cloud in the cobalt Santorini sky. The late-afternoon sun beamed down, its rays matching the rays bursting out of Tabitha’s heart.
Giannis’s sisters fussed with her hair and her dress. Helena, the fashion designer sister who’d made the alterations needed for the wedding dress to fit Tabitha’s post-baby frame, anxiously checked it every five seconds. Katarina, dressed in an identical bridesmaid’s dress to her sisters, rocked a fractious baby Elise in her arms, refusing to hand Elise back to Tabitha in case the three-month-old baby was sick on her dress. It was with much relief that Giannis’s mother, who was the designated babysitter for the day, returned from greeting the entire extended Basinas family, all squashed like sardines within the confines of the blue-topped church, snatched her newest grandchild into her arms and bustled back inside with her.
The only one of their small party stood on the steps of the church not nervous was Tabitha. She couldn’t wait to get in there.
A sharp elbow landed in her ribs. ‘Look,’ shouted Niki, laughing.
Tabitha followed her gaze and saw a small plane flying over them with her and Giannis’s names trailing behind it on a long banner.
She saw something else too that filled her heart with equal joy at this public declaration of her husband’s love. The moon had risen on this long summer’s day too, as if it had come out early to celebrate with them. She imagined her parents sat on it, watching her. She thought they would approve that this time, the time when the vows she was going to exchange meant everything, she was wearing the wedding dress that had belonged to Elise, her mother. And she thought they would approve of how she had given Brigstock Manor to the local authority to be turned into a children’s home.
She blew the moon a kiss, then stepped inside the church to renew her wedding vows to the man who had made her the happiest woman on earth.
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