“You’re looking sharp, man,” said Lenny, eyeing up Danny in his wedding regalia.
“The motor looks good, Lenny,” Danny replied, then stated the obvious. “No Albert?”
“Better get going,” was Lenny’s reply. “You go in the back, make you look more important. But I ain’t wearing no chauffeur hat.”
These weren’t the kind of nerves Danny felt before a fight. They felt different, not unlike the butterflies he felt when he first kissed Wendy.The kind he felt when he’d first gone to Patsy’s boxing gym.
As the Cortina pulled up at the church, impressing the guests outside, Danny panicked.
“The wedding rings!” he said. “Albert had the rings!”
“Don’t worry,” Lenny replied calmly. “Albert gave them to me.”
Danny eased the collar away from his neck. He was sweating. Seeing a group of guests at the door of the church having a quick cigarette before the service focused him on his role. He’d practised this with the vicar and Wendy a few evenings ago. It was going to be fine.
Danny got out of the car, going over the choreography of the day in his mind.
“All right, Danny?”
“Good luck in there, mate.”
He nodded absently at a few church stragglers, most of whom he had never met. Lenny stood awkwardly with him. They were were relieved to see the hand of the vicar at the church door outstretched in welcome.
The Reverend John Edwards had a headful of white hair, smiling eyes and a stammer. Now in his sixties, he had seen many of his congregation literally come and go, with countless baptisms and funerals. Weddings meant too much confetti strewn over the churchyard, but the vicar seemed happy to grin and bear it. His genial presence brought a sense of calm and order to proceedings.
“Where is your b-b-best man?” he asked.
Danny wiped his forehead. “He’s not here. But Lenny has got the rings.”
“Yeah Father,” Lenny confirmed. “I can be the second-best man.”
“Very good. Don’t w-w-worry, I’ll guide you through the service. Now, we’d b-b-better get going, I’ve have a christening in thirty minutes. Shall w-w-we go in?”
As they walked through the large arched wooden doors, the chatting turned into whispering, like the reverence shown when visiting someone in hospital. Rosie waved furiously, poised for a good cry with handkerchief in hand. Rick gave Danny the thumbs up.
Black Lenny’s appearance caused a minor stir, but respect seemed instinctively to prevail in the hallowed surroundings. Nods and smiles all round greeted Danny as he walked to the altar. He felt as if he was floating, mentally and physically. The demonic-sounding church organ provided the backdrop to this surreal dream.
He was brought back to earth when he saw Cohen and Costa standing on his sparsely populated guest side of the church. With smiles like Cheshire cats and the light from a nearby candle catching Costa’s gold tooth, they gave Danny a wave. Lenny made that hissing sound he used when a job was a nuisance.
At the altar, Lenny dropped to one knee and crossed himself, which surprised Danny. He was anxious to get going. It was now past two o’clock, and there was no sign of Wendy yet.
“It’s tradition for the bride to be late,” Lenny whispered in Danny’s ear. “Don’t worry man, she’ll be here soon enough.”
The organist played on, a rather sombre and funereal choice. Then, silence. An air of anticipation floated through the church followed by Mendelssohn’s well-used Wedding March.
Heads turned in admiration. Danny turned too.
A vision of stunning beauty in a flowing white dress with a veil across her smiling face, Wendy looked a picture as she and her father made their regal entrance. Through the ringing in his ears, Danny could hear crying. Clearly some of the lady relatives were determined to enter fully into the emotion of the occasion, Wendy’s mum among them. Hopefully they were tears of joy.
“You’re a lucky man,” Lenny murmured as Wendy floated majestically down the aisle.
Speechless, Danny could only nod in agreement.
Reaching Danny’s side, Wendy looked into his eyes and smiled. Their love was clear for all to see.
Possibly because of the time pressure of the upcoming christening, the vicar’s stammer grew worse as the service got under way. It really came to prominence when he tried to pronounce “Wendy”.
“Do you, Wa-wa-wa,” said the vicar. “Do you, Wa-wa… Do you…”
On the third attempt, Wendy got the giggles. Danny followed. The pressure of the occasion had got to them both, and like a pair of naughty children, they were soon uncontrollable.
A stern look from Mr Bristow restored some sense of order. The probably-too-happy couple managed to confirm their vows with just the odd snort of laughter, much to the relief of both vicar and congregation. Then the vicar invited the witnesses to the back of the vestry to sign the paperwork. As Albert had not made the wedding, Danny pushed Lenny into taking his place.
And at last, with the register signed and the organ in full swing, the church bells rang out with a vengeance, heralding the emergence of Mr and Mrs Danny Watson.
Back in his bedsit, Albert could hear the church bells ringing in the distance. Rocky did her version of Irish dancing on her favourite perch, a treat she reserved for bell-ringing occasions.
Rocky was happy, but Albert felt a sadness. He had wanted to be there, but socialising with Cohen and Costa was something he couldn’t stomach. Although Danny’s betrayal still hurt, he felt he had let the boy down.
He looked out of his window towards the church just a few streets away.
Perhaps he had overreacted; perhaps he should have honoured his commitment to be best man. He had asked Lenny to look after Danny on his behalf, but he was full of mixed feelings. He’d had a right to be there, much more than the new duo trying to muscle in on Danny’s boxing career.
He picked up the photo of his son from the sideboard, stroking his fingers over the young Tommy’s face. Tears filled his eyes. Danny had helped to fill the void left by his Tommy’s death and it hurt Albert to think he was not present at the boy’s big day. But as usual, Albert’s principles, coupled with his stubbornness, had made the decision for him.
If he had gone, any word out of place from Cohen and Costa would have led to an awkward and possibly physical outcome. Albert was no longer young, but his reflexes and punches were still sharp, and to cause a commotion at the wedding would certainly spoil the day. Danny’s day. So his decision to steer clear was best for all.
The bells stopped ringing and Rocky stopped dancing. Albert wondered if Danny’s mother had been at the wedding. He’d never been introduced to her, but felt he knew her from all of Danny’s stories. He thought of Lenny decked out in his cream suit, looking worried when Albert had delegated his best man duties on to Lenny’s reluctant shoulders.
Feeling like an outsider, Albert looked through his window at the Trinity Church steeple. Not sure if it was wanting to be a part of Danny’s day or just curiosity, he grabbed his coat and hat and went out into the street.
Simon was downstairs, wrestling with a set of Victorian drawers outside his shop.
“Present and correct Albert, off to the wedding?” he asked. “Enjoy yourself.”
“Will do,” Albert replied, and quickly made off before Simon could interrogate him further.
Making his way towards the church, he stood a safe distance away. He could see the confetti-covered newly-weds posing for photographs, the stately horses and carriage, people getting in cars to make their way to the reception. None of them noticing the scruffy figure standing alone on the corner.
As Albert stood and watched, he thought how good Danny and Wendy looked together, how happy they were. But the smile on his face soon faded when he saw Cohen and Costa warmly shaking Danny’s hand, congratulating the couple with all the smarmy good wishes they could muster. The promoters got into their expensive cars: Cohen in his white Jaguar and Costa in his black Mercedes. Not even noticing Albert, they drove away to the reception. Albert felt invisible and helpless, and he didn’t like it.