Alice was right and everything is organised and calm on the morning of the wedding. The sun is shining, of course, and we all have breakfast together in the garden. Alice and Stefano can’t stop smiling at each other and Stefano’s nonna, Vera is literally hopping up and down with excitement.
After breakfast, we all go upstairs to get ready and we can hear guests arriving downstairs. Alice isn’t having bridesmaids or anything so we’re all just wearing our own clothes. Leonie’s wearing a red sundress with ruffles from the top to the bottom. She puts her hair up and she looks so grown-up I can’t quite believe it. When did it happen? I still picture her in her checked school summer dress. And next year she’ll be the only one at home.
‘Help me cover this,’ she says to Elyse, pointing at another love bite on her neck.
‘Bloody hell, Leonie,’ Elyse says. ‘Tell Gia to calm the fuck down.’
Leonie rolls her eyes. ‘We had to have a proper goodbye. Are you going to help me or not?’
‘Not,’ Elyse says. ‘Do it yourself.’ She throws her enormous make-up bag onto Leonie’s bed. Leonie sighs and unzips it, tipping almost everything out onto the cover.
‘Jeezus!’ Elyse says, tugging the bag back towards herself. ‘A bit of respect, please.’
‘Just do it for me,’ Leonie says, blinking at Elyse. ‘Please.’
‘In a minute,’ Elyse says. She’s leaning over the console dressing table and doing her eyebrows in the mirror. She’s wearing a mint-green lace dress that one of her friends from college made. It looks amazing on her. It’s a bit twenties in style and she’s fastened her long hair back.
I’m wearing a green and white fifties-style dress Elyse made for me. I hardly ever wear dresses at home and I’d looked and looked for one but couldn’t find anything I liked at all. I really love this dress though. I feel like someone from an old film. And if I spin around, the skirt flares out.
‘That looks so gorge on you,’ Leonie says. ‘How are you wearing your hair?’
‘I was going to put it up,’ I say and I hold it in a ponytail to show her.
She cocks her head on one side and squints at me. ‘I think it looks better down with that dress, but it needs something. Ooh!’
She rummages in her bag and then clips my long fringe over to the side.
‘I don’t think so,’ I say.
‘Just look in the mirror. You look gorgeous.’
I stand next to Elyse and look in the mirror. I wouldn’t say gorgeous, but the simple way my sister’s clipped my hair has actually made all the difference. I worry that my forehead’s too big when my fringe is off my face, but I don’t think that now at all. And I think it actually makes my eyes look a bit bluer.
‘I love it,’ I tell Leonie. ‘Thank you.’
She comes to stand next to me and we look at each other in the mirror.
‘Look at us,’ Leonie says, smiling.
Elyse puts down her eyebrow pencil and smiles at us in the mirror.
‘I can’t remember the last time we all got dressed up together,’ I say.
The matching expression on my sisters’ faces reminds me. It was Dad’s funeral.
We meet Mum downstairs. She’s wearing a long dark-pink skirt and a white shirt with her hair piled up on her head and she looks so beautiful. The restaurant looks incredible too. There are flowers on every surface and bowls of sugared almonds in little bags, along with tiny Iced Gem biscuits that Alice loves.
We all head outside and my mouth drops open when I see the garden. It’s been transformed into a wedding grotto. We went to bed pretty late last night so either someone stayed up even later or got up much earlier because the trees are strung with multicoloured bunting and again there are flowers everywhere. Folding chairs entwined with flowers have been set out in rows facing the table under the weeping willow, where Stefano and Alice will sign the register. Even the table’s been hand-chosen: it’s white with bow legs and a multicoloured mosaic top.
‘It’s breathtaking, isn’t it?’ Mum says.
‘So beautiful,’ Elyse says and puts her hand up to her face.
‘Are you crying?’ Leonie says, laughing.
‘Oh, shut up,’ Elyse says.
We move to one side so we’re not blocking the doorway, but carry on just staring at the garden.
‘If you’re crying now, I dread to think what you’ll be like later,’ I say.
‘I’ve got tissues,’ Mum says. ‘I’m expecting a few tears. Alice has been crying already this morning.’
‘Is she okay?’ I ask.
‘She’s nervous,’ Mum says. ‘But she’s happy too. She’s been planning this for such a long time, I think it’s all a bit overwhelming.’
Toby comes out with a platter of pastries and a pot of coffee and puts it on the big table by the wall. ‘Help yourself,’ he says, grabbing a pastry for himself.
‘I thought you weren’t working today?’ I ask him.
He’s wearing a black suit and white shirt with a napkin tucked down the front in case of spillages.
‘That’s me done. That was my last responsibility. Until, you know …’ He gestures at the table. Toby is Stefano’s best man.
‘Is your mum okay?’ Leonie asks.
Toby nods and then grins. ‘She’s stopped crying. Now she’s holding ice to her eyes.’
I walk around the garden taking it all in. It looks like something from a dream. Or a film. I notice that the bunting actually has ‘Stefano + Alice’ printed on, along with the date. And the ice-cream colours of the bunting and the flowers match the mosaic on the top of the table (and, for that matter, Mum’s skirt).
The next person through the door is Luke and my breath catches as soon as I see him. Like Toby, he’s wearing a suit, but his is navy blue, and a white shirt that shows off his tan. He grins and heads straight over to me.
‘You look beautiful,’ he says, smiling.
‘You too,’ I say. ‘Good, I mean. You look good.’
He grins. ‘I was cool with “beautiful”.’ He reaches out and wraps his fingers around my wrist. I turn my hand so I’m holding his wrist too. I can feel his pulse under my fingers.
‘So have you heard what Stefano and Alice want us to do?’ Luke says, looking down at our hands.
‘No. What?’
‘They want us to walk down the aisle ahead of them. In pairs.’
I must look blank, because he adds, ‘You know? Two by two.’
‘Like the ark?’ I say.
He laughs. ‘Yeah, I guess. I think Alice is nervous about walking down the aisle with everyone looking at her or something.’ He shakes his head. ‘I don’t really know. But there’s me, Toby, Stefano’s friends, Vincenzo and Marco, and your mum and the four of you. So …’
‘And Alice told you to partner me?’ I ask.
‘No,’ he says and smiles. ‘I chose you.’
The sun is shining. Music is playing. My family all look beautiful – happy and confident. My Dad is conspicuous by his absence and I can’t imagine how beyond hard this must be for Mum, watching her sister marrying the man she loves while the man my mum loves died in bed next to her.
But all I can think is ‘I chose you.’ Over and over. ‘I chose you.’ And it makes my insides do a happy little hop every single time, which is ridiculous since I know he’s chosen lots of girls. And I’m here and he knows I like him and so it’s the easiest thing in the world for him to choose me. But still I can’t stop thinking about it.
The music for the ceremony starts and Luke arrives next to me. As Mum and Stefano’s friend Vincenzo start walking, I feel like I can’t quite catch my breath. I’ve never hyperventilated before – I’ve only ever seen it in films when they make people breathe into a paper bag – but I feel like I’m doing it now. Marco and Elyse start walking and I can hear myself panting like a dog. Toby and Leonie are behind us so we’re next. And then Luke takes my hand.
We start walking and the ‘I chose you’ in my head has been replaced by a kind of whooshing sound. I’m breathing fine, so that’s good, but I’m not thinking so well. And I can’t stop smiling.
Luke and I are at the front now and we step to one side and sit down on the front row next to Mum and Vincenzo. Luke’s still holding my hand, his thumb brushing over my knuckles, and he whispers ‘Are you okay?’ in my ear. I nod and smile at him. His eyes look almost gold in this light. I want to run my fingertips over his eyelashes.
Instead, I turn away and look down the aisle at Stefano and Alice. Stefano looks his usual gorgeous self in a black suit and a pink shirt, but Alice looks unbelievable. Her dress is full length and pure white. It’s covered with lace and little jewels that glint in the sun. She’s beaming. I don’t think I’ve ever seen her look so happy, and Stefano can’t stop looking at her. Once they reach the front the music stops and the ceremony starts.
After the ceremony is over, we all stand up and hug Stefano and Alice and, at some point, Luke lets go of my hand. Or I let go of his, I don’t know.
We go inside for champagne and a few of Stefano’s family make toasts while the staff move the folding chairs and bring more tables outside for the meal. I’ve finished my first glass and I’m wondering if I can get away with a second without getting drunk, sick, or falling asleep when Stefano comes in to announce that the garden is ready and the meal is served.
Our table has Alice and Stefano, Toby and Luke, Mum, Elyse, Leonie and me. Everyone takes their place, leaving me, Leonie and Luke. Leonie throws herself into the seat next to Elyse, and I sit next to Mum so that Luke is between me and Leonie. Once the waiters have been round and poured our drinks, Stefano stands up and raps his fork against the side of his glass. We all look up at him obediently.
‘I’m not going to make a big speech,’ he says, holding one hand up. ‘No really. I want everyone to eat and drink and have fun. But I can’t wait any longer to say how beautiful my wife looks …’
He has to stop talking while everyone cheers and claps and he beams down at Alice. Alice looks teary and her cheeks are bright pink.
‘Yes,’ Stefano says, when everyone’s calmed down. ‘My wife. I’m so proud to finally say that Alice is my wife. I love you, tesoro mio.’
Alice stands up and kisses him, her hand on his cheek. They both look so happy that I find myself welling up again. I glance over at Luke and he’s looking at me. I give him a watery smile and he grins back.
‘I know it’s not customary for the bride to give a speech,’ Alice says and everyone cheers. ‘But I say what the hell, it’s the twenty-first century and I would like to say a few things.’
Everyone cheers again, possibly even more than they did for Stefano, and Alice laughs.
‘First, I want to thank my beautiful husband. I thank god … or the universe or whatever … every day that I met you. You’re the love of my life and I know we’re going to be just as happily married as we were unmarried.’
Stefano has sat back down and Alice leans over and kisses him again. The way he’s looking at her makes my heart hurt.
‘I’ve been very lucky in my life,’ Alice says. ‘I’ve got a lovely family … My wonderful little boy, Toby, who is growing up to be an amazing young man. And my beautiful sister, Carrie. Carrie’s marriage to Dominic was …’ She stops and shakes her head, closing her eyes, then says, ‘I’m going to have to have a little drink if I’m going to be able to finish this.’ She sips her Prosecco and I take the opportunity to drink some of mine too.
‘Sorry,’ Alice says, putting her glass down. ‘Carrie’s marriage to Dominic was my inspiration. They loved each other so much. They were best friends. They were incredible parents to my gorgeous nieces. It’s really a tragedy that Dominic can’t be here … although I can’t imagine that he’s not here, somewhere. So I wanted to make a toast to a few people.’ She picks up her glass again and we all do the same. ‘The family I feel blessed to have, and to Dominic.’
We all raise our glasses and say, ‘To Dominic.’
I look at Mum and see that there are tears running down her face. Alice walks around the table and Mum turns around to hug her, before pulling back and saying, ‘I don’t want to get make-up on your dress!’
Alice laughs and I realise she’s crying too. My throat is aching with the effort of not crying. I just don’t want to cry now. It’s all so beautiful and it’s such a happy occasion. I don’t want to miss Dad; I want to pretend that he’s here, that’s he’s just gone inside for a drink or that he’s over in the corner chatting to the band as they set up, asking them about their equipment and joking with them over their set list.
‘Are you okay?’ Luke asks me when the speeches are over.
I nod and then I feel his fingers on mine. I look down. I’m clinging to the edge of the table and I didn’t even realise I was doing it. Luke gently prises my fingers away and slides his own fingers between them, squeezing my hand.
‘Do you want to leave the other one?’ he says and nods at my other hand, which is also holding on.
I reach out and pick up my glass. ‘I’ll just hold on to this,’ I say, smiling.
He laughs. ‘Not all night though. There’s going to be dancing later, so you need to keep your wits about you. Toby’s going to show us some moves.’
‘Hey!’ Toby says. ‘I’ve got moves.’
‘You have,’ Luke says, nodding. ‘But they’re all tragic.’
‘Oh, that’s not true,’ Alice says. ‘Tobes used to know the dance routine to that Backstreet Boys song …’
‘Thanks, Mum,’ Toby says. ‘That’s really helpful.’
‘Which Backstreet Boys song?’ Luke asks, grinning.
‘No. Thank you. This conversation is over,’ Toby says. ‘So … Mum, Stefano. Married, you say?’
Everyone laughs. Toby reminds me a bit of dad, the way he can always charm everyone. Probably why they got on so well.
I turn to Mum. ‘Are you okay?’
She nods. Her eyes still look a bit wet, but her smile seems genuine. ‘It was a beautiful speech,’ she says. ‘And everyone looks so happy and excited. I just wish he was here.’
After the incredible meal – five courses starting with antipasti and finishing with an ice-cream cake and limoncello shots – the band stops playing quiet background music and starts playing the stuff designed to get everyone up and dancing.
‘What was that Backstreet Boys song?’ Luke asks Alice, grinning. ‘Maybe they know it.’
‘Don’t even think about it,’ Toby says.
The band starts with ‘Moondance’ by Van Morrison – the band is Italian, but singing in English – and before they’ve even reached the first chorus, dozens of people are up and dancing as the staff hurries to clear the tables and move them to the edges of the garden.
The band have been on a break, but they start playing their second set and Leonie leans forward, looking past the others to me.
‘What?’ I say.
‘I thought you might’ve changed your mind,’ Leonie says.
‘What about?’ Elyse asks, looking from Leonie to me.
‘Mum asked Milly to sing,’ Leonie tells her.
I feel Luke’s fingers on the back of my hand, sliding round to tangle with mine. I squeeze his hand without looking at him.
‘You don’t have to do it if you don’t want to,’ Elyse says.
‘I know,’ I tell her.
I look over at the band: five men, all dressed in black, arranged around one guy sitting down, playing the double bass. I think back to my band. The band I was in for two years before Dad died. I used to love being on stage with them, loved singing with them, loved the nerves before we played and how giddy we all were after. I miss it. But I don’t think I can do it now.
‘Why don’t you go and talk to them?’ Elyse says. ‘See how you feel?’
I feel sick at the thought. Which almost certainly means I shouldn’t do it. But if I do go to Liverpool, I’ll have to sing in front of people all the time. Luke’s other hand slides up my arm and I realise I’m squeezing his fingers.
‘Sorry,’ I say, glancing up at him.
‘You don’t want to do it,’ he says.
I shake my head.
‘So don’t do it.’
I laugh. ‘That simple?’
‘Course,’ he says.
The band start playing and it only takes me a few seconds to recognise ‘Fly Me to the Moon’.
‘Oh god,’ I hear Elyse say.
‘Fly Me to the Moon’ was Dad’s favourite song. He sang it on stage, he sang it at karaoke, he sang it around the house, he sang it at every family party ever.
I hear a sniff and look over to see that Leonie is crying, her face pressed against Elyse’s neck.
‘I remember your dad singing this,’ Luke says. ‘At Alice’s barbecue.’
I shake my head. ‘He didn’t sing this that night. I would’ve remembered if it was this. He sang this all the time.’
‘I was sure it was this,’ Luke says.
Maybe it was. Maybe I blanked it out. Maybe Luke’s remembering it wrong. I picture Dad standing in Alice’s garden, laughing as he sang. Twirling a bit. Using whatever was to hand to pretend he had a microphone – barbecue tongs, a solar light he’d pulled out of the ground, his mobile.
I feel something building inside my stomach. It feels like nerves, but it also feels like excitement. I’m walking across the garden, my heels sinking into the grass, before I even have time to think about it.
The guy with the double bass – his name’s Jaxon and I’m surprised to find he’s American, not Italian – taps the microphone and says, ‘We have a special treat tonight. Milly – Alice and Stefano’s niece – is going to sing one of my favourite songs.’
A cheer goes up and I feel it inside my chest. I glance around a little and every face I see is smiling back at me. I tell myself that Dad is here with me.
The band starts to play the ridiculously familiar intro and I can feel Dad next to me. I feel it so strongly that I want to turn and smile at him, but I know that if I do look, he won’t really be there. So I just start to sing instead.
The rest is a blur. It often happens when I’m singing; I just tune out of the world and into the music and let it carry me along. It’s odd because I’m never this confident when I’m not singing and I hate having to do presentations at school, but when I’m singing it’s like I just become part of the music and the other me – the me I am most of the time – steps to one side.
It’s fine. Not amazing. My throat is tight and I forget some of the words and miss some of the notes, but it’s fine. I focus on the fairy lights and the stars, the tiny birds darting overhead and the leaves on the trees.
My skin feels like it’s vibrating. I feel alive. And that just seems so wrong to me. I’m alive and my dad’s dead. And I wonder if this is why I’ve avoided singing. Not just because I knew how much it would make me miss him, but because I know that it makes me feel this way and I know it made Dad feel this way too and I don’t want to feel like this when he can’t.
My eyes skip past Leonie, Elyse, Toby and Luke to land on Mum, who is beaming at me, her hands clasped and pride written all over her face. I so desperately want to see my dad’s face, but I picture him in my head instead. He would be proud. He was always proud. So many people have told me, but for the first time maybe ever, I can really feel it. And it feels like love.