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like the bouquet she’s chosen.’

      ‘What!’ Tom was astounded. ‘I always thought it was the bride’s prerogative to choose her bouquet?’ He stuffed a potato in his mouth and began chewing.

      Nancy brought him up sharply. ‘Tom!’

      ‘What?’

      ‘It’s none of your business who chooses the bouquet, or anything else.’

      ‘I never said it was.’

      ‘Besides, how do you know it wasn’t Alice’s idea for her mother to choose her bouquet?’

      ‘It was not my idea,’ Alice offered, ‘but mother said if she was paying out a fortune on my wedding, she had every right to do some of the choosing.’ She gave a sad little smile. ‘To be honest though, I don’t think that’s why. I think it’s because she never had a white wedding of her own.’

      ‘Why was that?’ Frank was learning more about his future wife and family, with every passing day.

      Alice explained, ‘She told me that she and Father decided not to spend money on fripperies, and that it would be far better to invest the money in their first restaurant.’

      ‘I think they did right,’ Frank declared. ‘After all, look how they’ve used that money. Three restaurants up to now, and all because they started that first one with money that could have been wasted on paying for a big, fancy wedding.’

      While Alice pondered sadly on his remarks, Nancy said she would have much preferred a white wedding, ‘…with all the trimmings, like me and Tom had.’ She was quick to assure them, ‘It was nothing posh mind, but I had the loveliest dress and we paid for the choir to sing in church. We hired the village hall for the best party ever, with a pianist and a flautist and we danced all night long.’

      Sighing wistfully, she reminded Tom, ‘It was the best day ever, wasn’t it, Tom?’

      Tom readily agreed, but added, ‘To my mind, Alice’s parents did right. They made a first-class business decision. That’s why they now own three of the best eating places in the area.

      ‘My own story is not so straightforward. Y’see, my father once owned all the land adjacent to this farm-cottage, only he fell on hard times and had to sell a good part of it. Fortunately, he arranged to rent back some acres and the cottage…’

      ‘That’s enough now, Tom!’ Nancy often had to check him when he was being too forthright.

      Joe had a pertinent question for Frank. ‘So, if it was you, and you had a choice, you’d really go without a white wedding, and invest the money in a business, would you?’

      ‘Too right I would!’ Frank was adamant.

      ‘In that case, I reckon it’s just as well that it’s the bride’s family who are paying for yours and Alice’s wedding.’

      Frank nodded unashamedly. ‘That’s right. If it was coming out of my pocket, there’d be no fancy clothes, no big church do with a hundred people wanting to be fed and feted. Oh no! We’d be in and out of the registry office; a meal back at the house, then a few days looking about for a new and exciting enterprise.’

      Glancing over at Alice, he smiled encouragingly. ‘You agree with me don’t you, eh? You and me, setting out on our first big adventure together?’

      Alice gave him her best smile. ‘Sounds exciting,’ she said brightly, as though she actually agreed. But she did not agree. And as she looked up she caught Joe’s eyes. It was as if he could see right into her soul. She flushed slightly and looked away.

      Unaware of the change in atmosphere, Frank went on glibly, ‘But it’s not my money, so now that my future in-laws have amassed their fortune they can splash it about all they like; if they want to give me and Alice the best wedding that money can buy that’s up to them!’

      Across the table from Alice, Joe saw how Frank’s insensitive babble had dampened Alice’s bright and sunny nature. He wished there was something he could do to bring back her smile. But he couldn’t. That was Frank’s role in her life now.

      With Frank’s embarrassing and thoughtless remarks out of the way, Nancy turned her mind elsewhere. ‘By the way, Joe?’

      Joe looked up. ‘Yes?’

      ‘With Alice staying here again tonight, you’ll need to sleep on the sofa. Is that all right?’

      ‘Absolutely!’ He was just glad she wasn’t going home yet. ‘The sofa will be just fine.’

      ‘Good! That’s settled then.’

      Marred only by Frank’s damning words about white weddings, the next hour proved to be the most pleasant Joe had spent in a long time. The meal was wholesome and delicious, and with the conversation focusing on local events in the farming calendar, he began to feel as though he had never been away.

      Nancy had something to show them. ‘Now then, look at this, everyone!’ Grinning from ear to ear, she held up the leaflet. ‘I got this from the post office in Blackhill,’ she informed them. ‘It’s the information for the Spring barn-dance in the village hall.’

      ‘Give over, woman!’ Tom reminded her. ‘We’ve no time for dancing. You know as well as I do…Spring is a busy time on the farm, what with lambing an’ all. Besides, in case it’s slipped your mind, we’ve a wedding to go to!’

      Nancy shook the leaflet in his face. ‘Ah, but the dance isn’t for another three weeks, and anyway it’s been carefully planned to work with the farming calendar,’ she added triumphantly. ‘We all know how much you hate these events, and how you make every excuse not to go dancing. Well, we’re all going, aren’t we, folks?’ She waved the leaflet in the air.

      ‘I would love to go,’ Alice said, excitedly.

      ‘Oh, well if Alice is going, then so am I.’ Frank did not want other men anywhere near her. Alice was a prize he meant to hang on to.

      Joe, too, was all for it, though for different reasons. ‘Well, I’m raring to go!’ he told Nancy. ‘I haven’t been to a village dance in a long time, and now I’m really looking forward to it.’

      ‘Aha!’ Nancy was jubilant. ‘So there ye have it, Tom Arnold,’ she told him. ‘We’re all going and so are you. It’s either that, or you cook your own meals for the next six months.’

      ‘Have sense, woman!’ Tom groaned. ‘I’ve a gammy leg, in case you’ve forgotten!’

      ‘I have not forgotten,’ she answered. ‘But gammy leg or no gammy leg, you’d best get yourself to that village hall with the rest of us, and no argument. You can sit it out and sulk if yer afraid to join in, ‘cause it’ll make no difference to me.’

      She gave him a shrivelling glance. ‘Besides, you’ve never once danced with me in public anyway, and only once in private, and that was on our wedding night when you were blind drunk and couldn’t care less who saw you.’

      ‘That’s not a nice thing to say.’

      ‘Mebbe not, but I don’t reckon it’s nice if you’re ashamed of dancing with your own wife in public.’

      ‘Don’t be daft, ‘course I’m not ashamed.’

      ‘Yes you are. I know it, you know it, and everybody in this village knows it.’

      Tom actually had a flush of conscience. ‘All right then, Nancy Arnold. If it’s dancing yer want, it’s dancing you’ll get, but it’ll be your doing if this old leg gives up the ghost.’

      Alice clapped her hands and gave him a kiss. ‘You’ll enjoy it,’ she promised.

      Nancy’s face was wreathed in a broad, happy smile. ‘That’s settled then, husband.’ And flushing with pleasure, she laid the leaflet on the table.

      When

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