• Vol. 04
  • Chapter 03
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So, Dear Reader …

The Church Warden said we couldn’t have confetti because it’s so difficult to unstick from the stones, afterwards. ‘Weaker people slip on it,’ he said. ‘If it’s wet. Which isn’t to be encouraged. Is it?’ I’d never imagined people dying as a direct result of my wedding.

But it set me thinking.

Why a veil? I wasn’t going to wear one for the old reason, my hymen being long gone, so I told my husband-to-be I'd decided not to. He got upset. He said it was traditional.

And that set me thinking some more.

I said we should ask people not to wrap up the presents they might give us, either. All that paper. Such a waste. But he got even more upset. He’d been looking forward to doing things with those Black-and-Decker wotsits he’d asked his brothers to give him (he’s got six) but he didn’t want anyone else knowing he’d asked for them. ‘It’s a wedding, after all,’ he said. ‘Not a do-it-yourself convention.’

Precisely.

So, dear reader ... in the end, I didn't.

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