When I woke up a thin ray of sunlight was pushing its way through the curtains. I smiled and stretched lazily. This time tomorrow Id be waking up to the bright warm sunshine of Lanzarote, and I’d be Mrs. Gareth Stevenson.
I could hear Mum bustling around in the kitchen nagging Dad about something or other, then his footsteps clumped up the stairs and there was a light tap on my door.
“Sally, you awake, love?” he asked, pushing the door ajar. “I’ve got a cup of tea for the bride.”
“Thanks, Dad,” I said. I sat up in bed and took the cup from him. “All ready for the big day?”
“More to the point, are you?” he grinned.
“After being engaged nearly three years I think I’ve waited long enough,” I laughed.
“I think you and Gareth were very wise to wait,” Dad went on with a wink. “Let’s face it, nobody could accuse you of rushing into anything!”
That was true, I thought idly as Dad went. Although this time last week it was touch and go that there’d be a wedding at all...
From the moment Gareth and I set the date we were determined not to have the customary stag and hen night. It was old fashioned and I had my own reasons for not wanting to follow the tradition. I wanted to make sure Gareth was sober for the wedding!
He played in his firm’s rugby team and I knew how they liked to ‘celebrate’ after
a game. What they’d get up to on a stag night didn’t bear thinking about. Besides,
all we wanted was to be married. A quiet wedding with just our families and close
friends, a small reception, and a honeymoon somewhere hot and not too crowded. It
all seemed so simple. Until our parents stuck their two-
Our guest list started to grow without our even realising. Then Gareth’s father insisted on morning suits. Not to be outdone, Dad arranged for the hotel to erect a Marquee for the reception. When he told us he’d smiled broadly and gone on about Easter sunshine and apple blossom petals on the lawn. Not to mention people wandering about sipping champagne.
Oh, they all came up with wonderful ideas and made it sound so fabulous that gradually Gareth and I found ourselves giving in to it all. Well, we thought, our parents wanted our big day to be extra special and we couldn’t complain bout that. But we were adamant about the stag nights.
Until last weekend...
On Saturday Gareth was playing in the last big game of the season. When he came round that evening he was crowing with delight because they’d won, but for some reason he didn’t seem able to look me in the eye. The moment I got him on his own I tackled him.
“You’re not going to like it,” he said, shaking his head. “But there was nothing I could do, Sal.”
I took a deep breath. “I hope you’re not going to say what I think you are.” My voice was sharp and Gareth didn’t miss the cold tone.
“What could I do?” he protested. “When they asked me what the plan was I told them straight I’m not having a stag night, I said. Sal, they nearly drowned me in the bath!”
“It’s a pity they didn’t!” I returned furiously. “We’ve given in to everything, Gareth. Our small, quiet wedding was subtly turned into a mammoth occasion never to be forgotten, and now this!”
“Oh, come on, Sally,” he snapped back. “Aren’t you going a bit over the top. After all it is my last night of freedom. What’s wrong with me wanting to spend it with my mates?”
“Last night of freedom!” I blazed with fury. “You’re getting married not going to prison.”
We glared at each other and you could almost see the anger flashing between us. We
said a lot of nasty things that night which I don’t want to remember. It was as
though we’d unleashed a pack of ferocious dogs that wouldn’t be satisfied until they’d
drawn blood. In the end I’d stormed that if he was having a stag night -
“But it’s traditional!” our families had insisted. We’d wanted a quiet wedding. No stag night. No hen night. No chance! Our special day had been ruined, and I began to wonder if it would happen at all...
| Intro |
| Biog |
| Confession |
| Romantic |
| Emotional |
| 3 for 1 |
| Christmas Stories |
| Summer Special |
| Paul Swann |
| Jessica's Story |
| Toni's blog |