Will You Marry Me

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...

    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...

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