January 16th, 1992

January 16th, 1992

At home, England

“Who gets married on Leap Year Day?” Pamsy screeched on the phone. “You’ll only get an anniversary gift every four years!” We continued chatting about my upcoming nuptials and when I told her how brutal Winter is in New England, she joked, “You might be better off wearing a white snowsuit and gloves!”

I have no idea how I’ll balance wearing something I like versus something I won’t freeze in! Mum, on the other hand, already bought a hat and not one but four new outfits, all of which would be much more suited to a wedding in Hawaii.

Planning a wedding while your fiancé is involved in rescue efforts at sea, for people fleeing their homeland in makeshift boats, seems frivolous so I’m glad our wedding isn’t going to be some frothy frock affair.

Growing up, I never gave much thought to my wedding, unlike some of my friends that have been planning “the big day,” since they started talking! I’ve never really understood putting all that emphasis on one day, when the really important part is the years that follow.

I’m excited that we at least have a date but I wish William didn’t have to head back out to sea so soon after. Between his work and mine, we decided to put our Honeymoon on hold until I get my Green Card and can live in the States legally, but who knows when that will be.

It’s crazy to think that in just six plus weeks, I’ll be married!

 

September 8th, 1991

September 8th, 1991

At home, England

Sarah is married! The day started out with a few sprinkles but by the time we were ready for pictures in her mum and dad’s garden, the sun was out in full force.

“Look at you lot,” Sarah’s dad said, discretely wiping a tear, as the photographer barked, “No squinting!”
“Bleeding ‘ard not to,” Suzette, the other bridesmaid uttered, while I made a poor attempt at sucking in my stomach.

“You’re not crying, are you, dad?”

“Me? No. Think I’ve something in me eye.”

“Aw, bless,” Sarah and Suzette cooed in unison.

“No talking! Please!”

“He’s a bundle of laughs, where’d you find im, Sarah?”

“And three, and two, and one,” the photographer shouted, above the sound of the shutter, snapping what I imagine will be amusing pictures.

“He’s a mate of-”

“And silence!”

“He better not keep this up all day!” Suzette huffed, making me laugh.
“And we’re quiet! And we’re still!”

“Still annoying,” Suzette hissed, as the photographer waved his hand. “Bridesmaids, step aside! Parents, step in!”

Suzette shook her head and pulled me aside. “We’ve time for some happy juice, before we go to the church,” she winked.

I gave her a questioning look. “Listen,” she whispered. “If we ‘ave to be stuck in these frothy frocks all day, we’ll need a drink. Or three.”

Ah, a girl after my own heart!

 

September 1st, 1991

September 1st, 1991

At home, England

It’s hard to believe that this time next week, Sarah will be married and the pastel, puke inspired dress, she’s insisting I wear will be rolled into a ball and stuffed in the back of my wardrobe.

She caught me off guard when she asked who I’m bringing to the wedding, something I hadn’t given any thought to.

“You can bring anyone you want,” she said. “Just not Ben!”

“Like I’d invite him!” I said, much too defensively.

“You should invite Jon.”

“Nah.”

“Why not? He’s really nice to you and-”

“He is…was, but he’s heavily involved with someone.”

“I bet he’d come if you asked him.”

“I just told you he has a girlfriend!”
“I still think you should invite him.”

“No, absolutely not. I guess I’ll be coming alone.”

“Well in that case I’ll get my husband to be on it and he can fix you up with one of his friends.”

“Ehm, thanks, but no thanks,” I stuttered remembering several occasions where Sarah thought it’d be a good idea for me to meet “someone they already know.”

“You say that now,” she smiled, “but you know after you see me getting married you’ll feel all romantic and want to snog somebody. That’s what happens at weddings!”

All I could do was roll my eyes as she continued. “Where is it you’re going tomorrow?”

“Delhi.”

“And when are you coming back?”

“Friday morning.”

“That’s cutting it a bit close, don’t you think? What if you get delayed or something?”

“I won’t,” I said, inwardly chuckling at the thought of not having to wear “the dress,” but knowing she’ll kill me if I miss her wedding.

 

 

August 3rd, 1991

August 3rd, 1991

At home, England

Spent the morning with Sarah, at “the final fitting,” for the bridesmaid dresses she chose for Suzette and I.

“How it feels?” the seamstress said, jerkily zipping me into the dress.

“Fine,” I lied, continuing to suck in my stomach, whilst attempting to hold my breath, which I have to say is not an easy combination!

“Leetle tight,” she said, her heavy Russian accent doing nothing to mask her disdain.

“Uh-huh,” I uttered, afraid the zip would give if I dared say anything more.

“Heeps,” she stated, smacking my right hip, before undoing the zipper in one fell swoop.

“Yes,” I said, quickly stepping out of the dress. “I have hips.”

“Tut tut tut,” she clucked, staring me down. “Too much heeps.”

“Too much tongue,” I hissed, under my breath.

Sarah smiled in my direction. “What was that you said?”

“I was just saying how much I love my dress.”

“Aw, do you really love it?” Sarah cooed.

“Truly,” I smiled.

About as much as I can love something that clings to me and looks like regurgitated pastel crayons!

 

March 10th, 1991

March 10th, 1991

Flight from BDA – NAS – BDA

Hamilton Princess Hotel, Bermuda

I’m so enjoying this trip, which took precedence over a weekend in the English countryside at what I expect would be some stately home (ah!) owned by Jacob’s parents. Frankie and I had a good laugh after I remembered I was actually due to be here in Bermuda for Lorna’s wedding!

Just rolled in from a most entertaining evening with the wedding gang. We’re all so familiar with each other that it’s hard to believe we only met just over two years ago. Life for all of us has changed so much, all from joining British Airways as Cabin Crew.

Operated the shuttle to and from Nassau, with high winds and a deluge that drenched us while we waited for the crew bus to appear. Carl said the only remedy for the cold was rum and lots of it, so we headed to his room to put his theory to the test!

Several hours later, we made our way into town. I walked with Lorna, who seemed quieter than usual.

“Penny for your thoughts,” I said, linking my arm through hers.

“I’m just thinking about tomorrow,” she said, sounding wistful.

I squeezed her arm. “It’s going to be amazing!”

Carl and Daniel lead the way,  with Klaus walking between them. Klaus kept looking back, blowing kisses in Lorna’s direction.

“Look at him,” I said. “He’s totally gaga about you.”

“He is that,” she sighed.

Sensing something that I couldn’t put my finger on, I stopped walking. “Lorna, is there anything you want to talk about?”

“Nah,” she said. “I think I’ve just got a bad case of the wedding jitters.”

“I can only imagine what a big deal it is.”

“I think it’s just, you know, moving to Holland dealing with his family and stuff. It feels like a lot.”

I nodded. “I think once you’re married it’ll be different.”

She gave me a questioning look.

“What I mean is, I think your relationship with his family will be different.”

“How so?”

“I think once you’re his wife, it’ll be easier for you to tell them to piss off,” I said, making her laugh.

 

November 16th, 1990

November 16th, 1990

At home, England

If I had a pound for every time Sarah used the word, “wedding,” tonight, I’d be a wealthy lass!

We arranged to meet at six at The Barn in Central Milton Keynes, after Sarah finished work. Even on the phone, I could tell she was bursting to tell me something. No sooner had we taken our seats by the roaring fire and ordered drinks and a couple of starters, when she shrieked; “I have a wedding date!”

“Yay! When?”

Sarah proceeded to share not only the date (next summer) but every other detail of what promises to be an outstanding day. Her description of “the bridesmaid dress,” she already picked out doesn’t sound like my cup of tea, but when, in the history of the world has any bridesmaid ever worn a dress she actually liked?

“So,” she said, finally taking a breath. “Are you excited?”

“Very,” I smiled. “This is great news.”

“I’m not talking about my wedding, I’m asking if you’re excited about your wedding.”

“What on earth are you talking about?”

“Don’t you think you’ll get married next year?”

“I’m not even engaged!”

“Yet!” she exclaimed.

I shook my head dismissively.

“Christmas is just around the corner,” she sang, flashing her engagement ring.

“You should meet Lorna,” I laughed. “She’s as keen to marry me off as you are.”

“Isn’t she getting married next year?”

“Yeah, next March, in Bermuda. David has already agreed to go with me.”

“Ooooohhhh,” she cooed in such a way as to make the girl sitting next to us flash an approving smile.

I’m surrounded, I thought.

“Well make sure you tell David I want him at my wedding. But don’t tell him anything about what you’re wearing, I want that to be a surprise.”

“Oh, ok,” I uttered.

 

Two weddings.

Two outfits.

Two countries.

One guy.