Текст книги "After Forever Ends "
Автор книги: Melodie Ramone
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Текущая страница: 10 (всего у книги 39 страниц)
I gasped. I was weak all over.
Oliver moved back up and laid his weight upon me. I had never wanted anything so badly in my life as I wanted him. I wanted all of him, every bit of his body, every piece of his soul, every ounce of his love. There was no sound but our breath, the only light in the room were grey whispers that seeped in around the edges of the sheet he had hung in the doorway. I finished undressing him, slowly and with great care, making every inch of his flesh known to me.
We were belly to belly on the smooth sheet, my legs wrapped around his middle. I could feel him ready for me, so close to where I was waiting. On thrust and he would be inside me, but he stayed still, kissing me endlessly, waiting for my final permission. I rolled on to my back and pulled him on to me in one motion.
“Make love me to me,” I whispered in his ear, “Please, I want you to. I’m ready.”
There were no more words. He asked no questions. He loved me. I loved him in return. There was no rushing, no nervous or clumsy hands, no second thoughts or anxiety about what we were doing. It was Oliver and me becoming one as we had always been meant to be. The way he melted into me astonished me; how easily my body had given in to allow it to happen, how smooth the skin of his back was as he focused his strength to keep from crushing me, how right the bulk of his body felt on top of mine, so fine, so perfect, pressing me down. I revelled in the way his muscles moved with mine, skin on skin, so supple. I would never have imagined a boy so strong could be so yielding, but he was, gentle as ever. I loved the way he breathed into my ear and moaned so softly, the way he responded to the sounds I made in reply. I was amazed by him and by the way we took each other to a place we had never known existed and never wanted to leave. The way he loved me….
He brought me to life.
I had never felt so safe, so completely warm and protected. He moved upon me slowly, gently, with a rhythm that said he never wanted to stop. I clung to him with my arms and legs, caressing him with my limbs. My heart was pounding.
“Sil,” He whispered, “I…oh, Love, I…”
“No-no, no-no,” I clung to him tighter, “It’s all right, Oliver. I want you to. Please, come to me, Sweetheart. Let me give you that.”
He groaned, almost a whimper, and his body began to shudder. After a moment, it was as if all the strength had left him and he laid still, his breath hot and even on my neck.
I didn’t move him. I cradled him instead, holding him inside me as I came back to reality. I wished that we would never have to return to school or to our homes. I wished that I could stay in that little cabin like this with him forever.
We lay together, still stroking each other‘s skin, “You are so beautiful,” He mumbled, “You’re so soft. You feel just like silk…”
I never prayed. I never talked to God or believed that he even existed, but that morning, I thanked him. I thanked God for creating a man as wonderful as Oliver and I promised that I would be a woman fit to have him.
“Just say that you want to stay right here with me forever.” I whispered to Oliver, “Just tell me we can.”
“Maybe we can do that,” He replied dreamily, “Maybe this can be our home.” He lifted his head and looked at me with those beautiful, dark eyes. He was so tired he could barely focus them, “There’s magic here. There is.”
I smiled, “I know.”
He moved off my body and pulled the blankets up over us, gathering me close. “We’re so tired,” His words slurred, “Come, let me hold you.”
I lay my head on his chest and listened to the steady beating of his heart. He stroked my hair gently with one hand and wove our fingers together with the other. I found myself falling asleep.
Oliver’s breath was light and his voice drowsy when he spoke, “Hey, Sil, marry me?”
He said it just like that, just like it was the most natural thing in the world. I lifted my head and looked into his eyes, wondering for a split second if he was even awake. His brown eyes were open wide, staring into mine. There was a slight smile forming at the corners of his mouth. I grinned, “OK,” I answered. I kissed the smooth skin on his chest, “I’ll marry you.”
“Today,” He whispered, kissing the top of my head. “Promise me today after I show you the faerie circle. Let‘s get married…”
“OK,” I remember saying again as my eyes closed again.
Oliver woke me up only three hours later. I swear he had enough energy for ten people. “Silvia,” He whispered, tickling my nose, “Sil, wake up. We’ve got loads to do, Love.”
I opened one eye and groaned, “I need coffee.”
“That I can do for you,” He kissed me quick and bounced off the bed, “It’s not the greatest, mind. It’s instant stuff I nicked from the Professor’s lounge. We’ll get the kind you like in town.” He walked to the stove and poured steaming water from a metal teapot into a mug, “Come on now, Love, I’ve got to show you the circle before we head into town.”
I got dressed quickly and, shivering in the cold of an early spring morning, took my coffee and followed him out into the garden. “Careful, the grass is slick with dew,” He steadied me as we descended the hill past several ancient trees. We stopped before a large ring of mushrooms. At first I didn’t think there was anything odd about it other than its size, but after a moment I noticed the mushrooms were too hefty for the time of year, giant, in fact, while the trees were still budding. Set among the mushrooms were stones of various shapes and sizes.
“It’s a magic circle,” Oliver was excited to show me, “Try to pull up one of the stones.”
I leaned over and tugged what looked like a loose rock. It wouldn’t budge. “Odd,” I crouched and set down my mug, pulling again. Finally, I tried with both hands. I got on my knees in the wet grass to have a better look, “Goodness! They’re set in the earth!”
“Right they are!” Oliver crouched beside me. “When Alex and I were boys we decided to try to dig one out. We must’ve gone down about four feet before Grandpaddy came out and gave us a beating for it. I don’t reckon we were even near the bottom of it.”
“They’ve always been here?”
“Long as I’ve known and long as Grandpaddy knew, too.”
“And the mushrooms?”
“They’re there all year round. Get buried in snow, but you can dig them up if you like.”
“Ever pulled one up?”
“Are you joking?” He looked deadly serious. “Of course we did! They pop right back-like. Grow the size of this in a day or so! Go ahead and try it if you don’t believe me!”
I picked up my coffee cup and stood, “No, I believe you.”
“Well, let’s get into town now that I’ve shown you. We’ve got a lot to do,” He raised himself to his full height and stretched, “You’re still going to marry me, aren’t you?”
“I will.”
“Well then, in that case,” He held out his hand and cocked his head, “We really must move more quickly!”
Oliver had wanted to rush into town for two reasons. The first was that we needed to buy a new door and the second was that he wanted to ring Alexander and ask him to come to our wedding. He called him from a phone box inside a store.
“Do I sound like I’m bloody joking?” He looked at me and rolled his eyes, pointing at the phone. “Yeah, I’ve got the ring that belonged to Nana. I told you I was! Oh, stick a baguette in her mouth and shut her up, Alex! She’s annoying is what she is!” He rolled his eyes again and hung out his tongue. “Let me talk to her…hello, Meredith? Hey, I appreciate your concern, but mind it’s really none of your business. No, I’d like it very much if you came, but this is a happy occasion so keep the negativity to yourself, yeah? OK. Put Alex back on the phone, yeah?” Oliver shook his head at me, “Alexander? Yes. All right. We need the signatures. Can you do that? Yes. Right, I don’t think that Silvia’s dad will be any problem. Yes, but mum and dad know we’ll be eighteen in five days, don’t they? Silvia has a bit longer, but her dad won’t make a fuss. Why would mum and dad? So they could force an annulment and then have us just go do it again in three weeks when Sil's eighteen? Imagine that! OK, Alex. Thanks! See you then, Brawd!”
“It works out bloody perfect!” Oliver told me as he hung up the receiver, “They won’t be leaving for a bit, Alex is doing us a favour first. Then it’s a good three hours or so from where they’re at, so that gives us enough time for me to put up a new door and us to heat water for a bath. Blimey, I didn’t bring any shampoo, so we’ll have to buy that, too,” He was chattering a mile a minute, “I’m starving, aren’t you? Should we stop in at the pub? We need to buy coffee. That instant stuff I nicked could knock the hair off a wolf.”
“Yes, we need better coffee. You know I’m addicted to coffee with cream and sugar. I need to buy myself a face cloth and a pair of socks.’’
“You didn’t bring socks?” His eyebrows rose.
I looked away quickly, “I thought I did. But I can’t find them.”
He laughed and tossed his head back, then quickly looked straight into my eyes, “They got you already! I told you! Nicked them right out of your sack, did they? Ha!” He clapped his hands, “Fine then! Brilliant! But you don’t need to buy new ones, the old ones will show up!” Oliver whooped and lifted me off of my feet, “I told you! Didn’t I?” He noticed people staring at us and grinned at them all, “Don’t mind us! She doesn’t listen to a thing I tell her and I’ve just been proven right! It’s better than Christmas!”
An old lady smiled and a young man looked away.
“You haven’t proven a thing!” I giggled loudly as he tickled my neck with kisses, “I forgot to pack them is all!”
“Ah, no you didn’t!”
“Then you took them!”
He looked a little hurt, “Come on now, Love! You don’t think that, do you? Can’t you just give it a chance?”
“Faerie Folk and magic?”
“Yes, both of those! Yes! And me, too! Trust me that I’m not lying!”
“Oh, Oliver,” I suddenly felt ghastly, “I do trust you!”
“Good. We’ve got to trust each other. It’s the only way we can be a real team.”
We finished our shopping and went to the timber yard where Oliver had a door cut out to fit the one he had chopped down. “It’ll be a lot warmer tonight,” He told me as he strapped the door to the top of the car.
“I wasn’t cold.”
He grinned, “We can always leave it open if you like.”
“Oliver?”
“Yes, Love?” He wasn't looking at me.
“Have you noticed that people are watching us?”
“Of course they are,” He tugged a knot on the rope and gave the door a shake to make sure it was tight. “It’s you they’re looking at, Sweetheart,” Oliver said softly, rubbing my arm through my jumper, “Cause you’re beautiful,” Then he grinned, “And ‘cause you keep clamouring on and no one can understand a word with Scottish brogue of yours.”
“Really?”
“Really. Everyone thinks you’re mental. Can’t figure out a word you’re saying, can they? But they smile at you because you’re cute-like.”
“Oh, shut it,” I mumbled, feeling my face go red.
“I love you even if you can’t talk, Sil. Mind, I understand you by now. You say, ‘yugh’ instead of you and I know you’re talking to me. And you say, ‘Oooop’ when you need to get on a lift for the third floor and ‘Doon’ when you want to get back to the lobby. You call me ‘Ahlahvehr’, he imitated my accent precisely, “And you roll your R’s like a drunken German. The rest of it, I dunno. It’s all rubbish.”
It was funny, even if I was feeling a bit insulted. “And Welsh accents are so much better?” I asked. I mimicked him, “’I loves what I dos, Buttie!’ you say! Or it’s something that makes even less sense like, ‘Whose coat’s that jacket, Butt?’ or ‘Have a swill in the bosh, Biwt!’ What the bloody hell is a swill? Or a bosh? Or a biwt? Eh, Buttie?” I demanded and then started laughing when he burst out, “Heel-lo!” I continued, “I-yam from Wales-like and I likes tah play da roog-beh! Mind, I like-at keck da balls throo da bag ay-cha…“
“The big H?” Oliver giggled like a child, “Do you even know what it’s called?”
“Do I even care? No! Besides, I’ve heard all about you Welshmen!”
“From who?” He asked with great humour, “Englishmen? Let me tell you about Englishmen,” He leaned close to my face, “They say that same thing about everybody, especially the Scots.” He raised his eyebrows and then lowered them again, “Here’s the line: ‘You know about Scotland, don’t you?’ The other bloke says, ‘No, what about Scotland?’ And the first bloke says, ‘Scotland is the land where men are men and sheep are frightened.’”
“No! No! They say it about Wales!!” I giggled as he grabbed me around the waist and playfully wrestled me from stomping away. “When I said I was moving here, that’s what someone told me! Welshmen love their sheep like their wives!”
“Oh, aye, they say it about us, too! Sure they do! But, mind, tell me then why the English put lipstick and high heels on their sheep?” He caught me and spun me around. His face was very close to mine again. I think he would have kissed me if someone driving by hadn’t honked their horn and made us both jump. Oliver flushed, “Wanker!” He yelled at the driver and then turned back to me, “Let’s go to the pub and get breakfast, yes? Fat sausages and eggs? Bacon and toast?”
My stomach growled. Food and I have never been enemies.
By the time we got back to the cabin, heated the water for and taken a decent bath and Oliver hung the door, Alexander and Meredith came walking up the path.
Oliver ran out into the lawn and leaped at his brother. Alex caught him with little effort and pounded him on the back, “Thanks for coming all the way here, Alex,” Ollie released him. “It didn’t seem right without you.”
“Wouldn’t miss it, Ol,” He slapped Oliver on the back once again, “Hello, Lovely Silvia! How is the blushing bride?”
“Alexander!” He lifted me up and spun me around. I tried to kiss his cheek, but he turned his head and I got the corner of his mouth instead, “I’m so glad you’re here!”
“Me, too,” He looked around, his eyes catching the light and sparkling. “Don’t you love it here?”
I started to say that I did when Meredith replied, “This would be just like camping. I never want to go camping.”
“I will remember that,” Alex replied through clenched teeth, giving his brother a look that said he’d had it with his current mistress.
She turned to me, obviously concerned, “So you two actually want to get married? Today? No one gets married on a Sunday. It’s the Sabbath.”
“Historically,” I could not help myself, “Saturday is the Sabbath.”
She frowned, but said nothing.
“Let's go!” Oliver wrapped his arm around my shoulder and the four of us headed down the hill to the car. Meredith said nothing as we pressed through the brush, but as we backed down the path, she spoke again, “Don’t you have a dress, Silvia?”
“I am wearing a dress, Meredith.”
“Yes, but it’s a yellow spring dress, not a wedding dress.”
“We haven’t exactly booked an abbey,” Oliver told her shortly, pulling on to the road and putting the car in gear. “Oy, did you bring the papers, Alexander?”
“In my pocket.” He patted his jacket, “You're all set.”
“Excellent! Thank you, Brother!”
“Anything for you and your Silvia.”
It was about ten seconds before Meredith mentioned, “You’re wearing trainers, Sil.”
“So?” Oliver asked a bit hotly.
“You look like you’re headed to a picnic in the park, not to your wedding,” She leaned back, “I wouldn’t get married dressed like that.”
“Well, it’s not your wedding, is it?” Alexander snapped, turning on her in the backseat, “Silvia looks beautiful! Silvia always looks beautiful! You’re a guest and by proxy, a guest should shut her cake hole and be polite and helpful to her hosts!”
“How dare you talk to me like that!”
“Oliver!” He smacked the back of the seat with the flat of his hand, “Stop the car! Now! I want to throw her out on the road!”
“What? We’re in the middle of nowhere!” She shrieked.
“Perfect! Then no one will hear you scream!”
Meredith began to cry.
“Oh, stick a cork in it!” Alexander hit the back of the seat again, “I’ve been listening to you for days! I'd love nothing more than to reach in and yank out your vocals cords!”
“Alex!” I scolded him because it seemed like the proper thing to do.
Alex glanced at me and then leaned forward and slapped his brother on the shoulder, “Oliver, take me back to the cabin then! I’ll drown her in the lake!”
“Alex!” I admonished him again.
“Don't stop the car!” Meredith wept.
“I’m not stopping anything!” Oliver looked in the mirror at the two of them, “And there’ll be no one being drowned in the lake either! Meredith, please don’t cry! No one’s throwing you out!”
“Not until the car does stop and then you’ll be lucky if it’s not at a bloody red light!” Alex threatened.
“You wouldn’t!” Meredith screamed, huge tears pouring out of her pretty blue eyes.
Alexander gave her a blank stare and turned away.
She wailed again. Oliver shuddered, looking in the mirror to get his brother’s attention. When he caught Alex’s eye, he mouthed, “Stop!” and Alexander made the motion of grabbing someone by the collar, choking them, and tossing them out the window. Oliver shook his head. Alexander nodded with enthusiasm.
Meredith continued to cry, sniffing loudly.
“Aw, Mere,” I said gently, passing her a tissue from my purse, “Please don’t cry. It’s OK if you don’t like my dress or my shoes. I’m sure you’ve dreamed of your perfect wedding all your life, while I’ve never even given it a thought. I’ve only dreamed of Oliver. The clothes I’m wearing mean nothing to me.”
She wiped her eyes, “I’m sorry, Silvia. You look positively adorable, really. Not many people can wear yellow, but you look like Cinderella in it. It’s really beautiful with your hair.”
“Oh, my goodness! Thank you!”
“I’m sorry to you, too, O. You look quite handsome in your...” She leaned forward and peered over the seat, “Shirt and tie.”
“I look like I’m heading for class, really.”
“No, because your buttons are done and the shirt’s tucked in and your tie’s on right,” She said seriously, “And you combed your hair. You don’t do that at school. At school you look like you just rolled out of bed. I think you look very put together. I am sorry if I sounded like I didn’t want to be here. It’s just this is very fast and you’re still in school. I don’t think this is such a good idea.”
“It’s all right,” Oliver told her as we entered town once again. “It’s forgotten. We’re glad you’re here.” I saw him eyeing his brother in the rear view mirror again, making sure he was behaving. Alexander was staring out the window.
After a bit more driving, we located the local magistrate and Oliver banged on the door. “We’d like to get married, Sir,” He said with his usual grin when the old man answered, “Today, right now if it’s possible.”
“How old are you?” The magistrate peered at us over his spectacles.
“Both seventeen, Sir,” Oliver told him.
“Legal then, I suppose. You look young, though. I’d have said sixteen at most.” He looked at me up and down like he was still trying to guess my age, “Baby faces. Humph. Do you have written permission from both of your parents?”
I froze. Written permission from my parents? I had had no idea that we needed that. I looked at Oliver in horror, but he didn’t seem fazed.
“Yes, Sir,” Alexander answered smoothly, “They do. I have the letters with me.”
He produced two documents he’d been holding in his jacket pocket since we got to the door. I had been too excited and distracted to ask what they were. The constable took them and looked them over carefully. He eyed Alexander with a look of deep mistrust and then turned his attention back to Oliver. “Is there a reason why your parents are not present?”
“Silvia’s mother’s passed,” Oliver answered without hesitation, “And her father takes very little interest in her life. He lives in Denbighshire and saw no importance in making the trip. My parents are not all pleased about us being married, but they consented because they know they can’t stop us, Sir. It’s either this or we continue to commit carnal sins for nineteen days until Sil’s birthday and we’re both eighteen and get married anyway. Sil will be showing by then. My parents signed the documents and opted to pray for us instead of attending.”
I almost laughed out loud.
The magistrate blinked. “And do you have proper identification?”
“We do.”
“Let’s see it.”
Oliver reached into his pocket and produced a driver’s license. I stood there like an idiot. “Sil,” He told me quietly, “Give him your ID.”
“Oh!” I snapped open my purse and produced it.
The magistrate looked it over carefully. “Well, you’ll have to have to be registered to be married.”
“Where do we do that?” I asked, bouncing on my toes.
The magistrate gave me an odd look. “Well, right here.” He pushed to door open, but made no move to let us in. “You aren’t Welsh, are you?”
“No, Sir, I’m Scottish,” I did not try to hide the pride in my voice.
“Hmpfh. No wonder I can’t understand a thing you say,” He muttered and Alexander laughed out loud. I poked him in the shoulder and shot Oliver a look that stopped him before he started. The constable gave me a long stare, “Have you lived in Wales more than seven days?”
“Yes, Sir.”
“Well, come in then. Right this way and I’ll get you your license. You have to fill it out and sign it and then I have to file it…”
“How long will that take?” Alexander asked suddenly as we entered a cluttered office. He glanced sideways at Meredith. She turned her head.
The magistrate looked up to answer, but paused, his eyes moving between Alexander and Oliver as if he saw double. He wiped his eye behind his glasses, blinked, and slowly answered, “As soon as whoever’s getting married signs it, I stamp it with this,” He lifted a heavy wooden stamp, “And put it in this drawer,” He motioned to a filing cabinet, “And then it’s filed.”
“And we can we get married then, yeah?” Oliver asked eagerly, his grin spread from ear to ear.
The magistrate sighed, clearly annoyed, but then he looked into Oliver’s face and softened. “It’s supposed to be a wait of fourteen days.”
“Fourteen days!” Oliver exclaimed. “We’ll be damned to hell in fourteen days! Or so say my parents! It’ll be purgatory at best and only if they pray hard enough! Sil will be wearing those jeans with the elastic band in the front!”
“There are not enough Fatima Prayers!” Alexander interjected, “Mother’s knees will need replaced! Great Merciful God, I’d hate to see Silvia married in a frumpy maternity gown!”
“It’s supposed to be,” The magistrate repeated, “But this is a small municipality and I am registrar. So my answer to you is as soon as you wish, since you’re in such a hurry. We wouldn’t want either of you burning in hell or your mother to have to have her knees replaced or anyone being married in an unflattering gown,” He moved around his desk and opened a drawer, fingering through files, “Now is it just two of you?”
“Just us,” Oliver and I said together. He squeezed my hand.
“I presumed that since the two of you have bees in your bonnets and the other two look as though they may duel at sundown,” He did not look up as he spoke. Oliver and I glanced at each other and stifled a laugh, “OK, then, fill this out,” He shoved a document across the desk, “And both of you sign it here,” He pointed with his pen, “And here.”
Oliver and I filled out the paper while the old man looked us over carefully. When we were through, he pushed his spectacles up the bridge of his nose and read, mumbling to himself, “Bride…Silvia Sophia Cotton, born in Edinburgh. Mother named Sharon Mariana Nettles, father named Philip Joseph Cotton…” He paused, “Groom…Oliver Eric Dickinson, born right here…” He looked up, “You’re not one of W.D. Dickinson’s clan, are you?”
“He was my grandfather,” Oliver answered, “Did you know him?”
“Yes, yes, I knew him,” He didn’t smile, but his face went soft again, “He never won at cards, but he never paid up, either. He married my cousin, Catherine. She was from Welshpool.”
“That was Nana,” Alexander said fondly, “The world was a better place with her in it.”
“I miss her,” Oliver chimed.
“The world was a better place with both of them in it. Terrible what happened,” He signed the document quickly and stamped it, looking carefully at the boys, “The whole road to their home was washed away. Well, you were probably old enough to remember, yeah?”
“It was only seven years ago, Sir, we remember well,” Oliver looked grave. “It’s not an easy thing to forget when both your grandparents drown in their car.”
I gasped. I had had no idea that the Grandpaddy and Nana he had spoken so fondly of so often about had died in such a horrible way.
“Yes,” Said the magistrate, “At least they went together, yeah?” He paused again, “You look just like her mother, you two do. Catherine’s mum, Elaine. She was my aunt, you see, married my father’s brother. Did you know Catherine’s mother was a twin as well? Had a sister named Denise who looked just like her. As much as you two do, wouldn’t know them apart and they liked it that way. Dark hair, dark eyes, just like you two.”
“We’ve been told,” Alexander mumbled and Oliver added, “Yeah.”
“Now Catherine, my cousin, Elaine’s daughter, your grandmother, she loved no place more than that little cabin way out behind the woods. Is that still there?”
“Yes, Sir,” Said Oliver and Alex in uniform.
“Hmmm. I played cards there once. Lost my gloves. Looked all over for them, but when I got home they were put together and laying on my bed like someone wanted me to find them,” He scratched his head, “Odd night that was.”
Oliver and Alexander glanced at each other knowingly, then they both looked at me with their eyebrows as high as they would go. I raised mine in response and turned my attention back to the magistrate.
It seemed like the conversation was going to go on forever when the old man ended it as quickly as it had begun. “I’m ready now,” He took us into a different room, “Sunnier,” He said and then mumbled, “Bit dusty.”
The sun was shining through the high set windows with such ferocity that Oliver and I had to squint against it. Dusty was an understatement. It was all I could do not to cough just looking at all the powder floating in the air, illuminated by the light. He stood us in the centre of the room and ithout the use of any book, rifled off the shortest wedding sermon in human history. “I welcome you to witness the marriage of…” He looked at Oliver. “Names again?”
“Oliver and Silvia.”
“Oliver and Silvia.” He repeated, then shook his right hand as if it were asleep, and kept on, “Oliver and Silvia, you have shared a past, short as it may be, and you may now share a future, which could potentially go on forever. Marriage is a promise in the heart of two people who love each other. It is the state in which Oliver and Silvia wish to enter.” He looked at Alexander, “Who gives their blessing?”
“Uh, I do,” He seemed surprised to be addressed, “I give them my blessing, Sir.”
“Your name?”
“Alexander.”
“Thank you.” He turned back to Oliver and me, “Alexander gives his blessing. I don’t suppose there is anyone here who would show cause as to why you should not be married?”
We all looked at Meredith. She opened her mouth, but was met with such a threatening scowl from Alexander that she immediately shut it. Instead of speaking, she looked at the ceiling and tapped her toe against the floor.
“Very well.” He turned back to us, “Oliver and Silvia, you are required by law to inform me if there is any legal or moral reason why you should not be married. Tell me now if there is.” It was obvious he did not completely accept our story. My guess was it had something to do with the parental signatures that I was certain Alexander had not procured by asking anyone to sign anything that had to do with our marrying. In fact, I was certain that none of our parents had actually signed anything at all.
Oliver and I looked at each other. “No, there are none, Sir.” He answered softly.
“All right then,” He sighed, “Face each other. Take her hands, Boy! Right! What’s your full name again, Son?”
“Oliver Eric Dickinson, Sir.” He took my hands in his and gave me the same kind of smile a child would give a giant lollipop.
“And yours, Miss?”
“Silvia Sophia Cotton.” I answered as I felt a warmth rush over me. I smiled and Oliver and I both began to laugh nervously.
“Oliver Eric Dickinson, do you take Silvia Sophia Cotton to be your wedded wife?”
“I do.” His eyes were filled with tenderness.
“Will you love her until you die? Cherish her no matter what she says or does and be true to her and only her as long as you both shall live?”
“Absobloodylutely.” He grinned.
“Will you honour her and care for her even if she’s sick?”
“I will.”
“Silvia Sophia Cotton, do you take Oliver Eric Dickinson to be your wedded husband?”
“I do.” I squeezed his hands.
“Will you love him until you die? Cherish him no matter what he says or does and be true to him and only him as long as you both shall live?”
“I swear I will.” I couldn’t take my eyes away from his.
“Will you honour him and care for him even if he’s sick?”
“Yes,” I replied absently. Oliver smiled and I realised I’d answered wrong, “Right! I mean, I will!”
“May you always share your hopes, dreams, joys and sorrows. Oliver, repeat after me: I, Oliver, take you, Silvia, to be my wife. To have and to hold from this day forth. To love and respect in sorrow as in joy, in hardship and in plenty as long as we both shall live.”
“I, Oliver, take you, Silvia, to be my wife. To have and to hold from this day forth. To love and respect in sorrow as in joy, in hardship as in plenty as long as we both shall live.”
“Silvia, repeat after me: I, Silvia, take you, Oliver, to be my husband. To have and to hold from this day forth. To love and respect in sorrow as in joy, in hardship and in plenty as long as we both shall live.”
He said it so fast I got a little lost, but I gave it a go, “I, Silvia, take you, Oliver, to be my husband. To have and to hold from this day forth. To love and respect in sorrow and with joy, and in hardship and when we have plenty for as long as we both shall live.”
“Close enough. Do you have rings?”
“I have one for her, Sir.” Oliver reached into his shirt pocket and produced it.
