Текст книги "Ravages"

Автор книги: R.A. Padmos

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Текущая страница: 15 (всего у книги 18 страниц)

Steve takes his lover’s face between his hands and kisses him on his forehead. “It won’t be

easy for either of us, but remember what they explained to us, that I’m not the one on trial? That I

have rights, too, and that there are people to make sure everything happens according to the rules?”

Daniël nods, but he doesn’t look half convinced.

“You love me and yes, that will be enough.”

Chapter 28

He has listened to the prosecution’s opening speech, though he can’t claim he actually heard

any of the words spoken. He has gone through the ritual of promising to tell the truth and nothing but

the truth. He has answered the handful of friendly questions of the prosecuting counsel about his

earlier statement. It felt like he was there foremost as the physical reminder of why all this is

happening in the first place. The police officers, the medical and forensic specialists will all be heard

later, and the consequences of what happened to him in the Queen Elizabeth Park will be reduced to

factual matter. The accused will have their turn to answer the questions, to say what they have to say

in their defence. So far, it’s all been like he’s one of the leads in a very experimental indie film: badly

acted, hardly watchable, but nothing to be overly nervous or frightened about. The cross-examination

by the counsel for the defendants, the part he should fear even if there’s nothing to fear because he’s

not on trial and he has nothing to hide or lie about, refuses to become more than a formality,

something that simply has to happen. Still, as soon as he had answered the last question as a witness

for the prosecution, he heard himself say, “Please, can I have a short break?”

It’s twenty minutes later and only now he’s able to look around, to allow the room and those

who are in it to become really part of what’s happening to him and Daniël.

They are there, the men who are on trial because of him, seated behind glass or perhaps

plexiglass, and Steve wonders if it’s bulletproof though he can’t imagine why. Six of them. Monsters

in cheap suits, with ordinary faces, puffy as a result of years of binge drinking and poor diets. He

doesn’t believe they are much different from the men in that park. Their eyes are still the same.

They do look out of place and unhappy, but Steve guesses that’s not because they’re in a totally

unfamiliar surroundings. They have been in similar settings before, if only because of a pub brawl, a

job that wasn’t as legit as their mate had told them, or some other stupidity. You know, we’ve all been

young and stupid, before the missus set us straight.

Not this time. This is beyond their means of understanding. Why are they the ones having to

defend themselves in front of a judge and jury; decent men, some with families and all, while there’s

this poofter holding his poofter boyfriend’s hand ...?

Steve stops his train of thoughts. He knows all too well what he’s trying to do. As long as he

pretends he has some, however speculatively, insight into their thinking, into their lives and

characters, he’s safe in some inexplicable manner.

They are there, seated behind a glass screen, the men who had tried to kick him to death. Six of

them. Not even monsters. Not even that.

Hideous suits, ill-fitting.

His hand in Daniël’s hand.

“You, me and no one else,” his beloved whispers.

Steve nods. Daniël never lies to him.

There’s the six of them, behind glass, in their cheap hideous suits.

And there’s the man who ran away, who wrote those letters about standing up in trial. The man

who kept his promise. Smith keeps his head down. In shame? In thought? He has recounted his story

before Steve was asked into the courtroom, but has been allowed to stay for the rest of the trial. For

one second he looks up, his eyes in Steve’s direction.

“Poor man,” he hears himself say.

Daniël strokes the back of his hand with his thumb. “Look,” he says.

Steve looks. Matthew is there, with Gael right next to him; both smiling their

acknowledgement. This is their friendship. Their support. Their penance.

There are some unknown faces too, most likely family members of the accused. Steve has no

emotions of any significance about them. And there’s the people doing their job. Judge, jury,

prosecutor, defence lawyers, usher, clerk, police, press. All are present in this room because he had

walked into a park, with a spring in his step and a silly grin on his face. He still doesn’t comprehend

how he got out.

He’s being called to the witness box again. His hand no longer in Daniël’s.

As before, the usher asks in a friendly tone if he needs assistance, handing Steve his crutches,

the courtroom being too unfamiliar to trust his own legs and, perhaps more importantly, his brain.

He smiles. “I’m fine, thank you.” And makes sure he’s stable on his feet before he takes the

few steps to the witness box. He has taken the oath about an hour ago, standing up and facing the jury

but once again, he’s thankful for the permission to be seated during the questioning. He’s supposed to

concentrate on the questions, not on how to keep his balance for as long as it takes the prosecution and

defence to ask them.

“Remember what’s on that piece of paper in the pocket of your jacket,” Daniël had said.

DANIËL LOVES STEVE

He doesn’t have to look at the writing or feel the paper between his fingers to be aware of the

absolute truth of those words. He doesn’t even have to put his hand in the pocket of his jacket. He

knows Daniël wrote those words. He doesn’t need to know more.

... The truth and nothing but the truth …

He made a promise and that promise still stands. He won’t tell a deliberate lie even by

remaining silent – those days are long past – but will that be the same as telling the absolute truth?

The lawyer for the defendants doing the cross-examination asks for his attention. The man

wouldn’t be noticed in a crowded room but Steve knows that by the time he’s finished with his

questions, he will be very nearly as much a part of his dreams and memories as the six men in the

dock.

“As you know, I’m going to ask you some questions. Remember, if any of my questions aren’t

absolutely clear, I’m more than happy to repeat of rephrase them, but please don’t guess just to give

an answer.”

“I’ll do my best.”

Once more he’s fully part of the courtroom drama.

Mr Gavan, do I understand correctly you had been in a homosexual relationship with Mr

Borghart since before the incident?

Steve knows exactly what Daniël would have asked back: “It’s a bit complicated to have a

heterosexual relationship with a man when you’re a man yourself, wouldn’t you say?”

Mr Gavan, could you answer my question, please?

“I’m sorry. Daniël and I had been together for about six months at that time.”

Was there anyone aware of this relationship? Friends? Family? Colleagues?

“No one knew. Daniël’s career ...”

This frustrated you?

“I’m not sure if I understand your question correctly.”

Mr Borghart welcomed his parents from the airport that day, didn’t he?

“Yes.”

And you were not invited? Hadn’t both of you a day off?

“That would have been impossible.”

Because you wanted to keep your relationship hidden from the world?

“We had to.”

Anyone specific ordered you to do so? Was there any pressure from the club you played for at

that moment?

“They didn’t know about us.”

Had Mr Borghart asked you to do so?

“We never really discussed this subject. It wouldn’t have changed anything.”

Because you were afraid it would damage Mr Borghart’s reputation and possibly his market

value? Your own too, perhaps?

“Wouldn’t it?”

But you agree that at that time, before the incident, you were actively hiding the fact you were

in a homosexual relationship with Mr Borghart? A simple yes or no will be enough.

“Yes.”

This fact frustrated you?

“I guess so.”

Let’s go back to the night of the incident. You told the police you had been drinking?

“A few pints, yes.”

But you don’t remember how many?

“Two, three at the most.”

Couldn’t it have been more?

“I can’t remember. It’s been too long.”

You weren’t going to see Mr Borghart for the next two days, were you?

“He had his parents over.”

So you went to a pub, had some beers, two, three, possibly more, while Mr Borghart had dinner

with his parents. Later, but still that same night, you walked through the city when you, fully by

accident you stated earlier to the police, landed in a section of the Queen Elizabeth Park that has been

notorious for being a so-called cruising area for many years. There had even been repeated

complaints about it by families with young children and other users of the park. I remember an article

about it in the Kinbridge Chronicle hardly more than a year ago. Answer yes or no, please.

“But I didn’t know ...”

Yes or no, Mr Gavan.

“Yes.”

Could you tell in your own words what happened then?

“This is a bit embarrassing, but I couldn’t find a public toilet ...”

I’m sure every man in this present company has found himself with the same problem at some

time. The lawyer smiles benignly. You just happened to open the zipper of your jeans to answer

nature’s call right in the middle of a meeting place for anonymous gay sex at a time that’s known in

certain circles as rush hour.

Is he supposed to give a reaction to this? He can’t change the truth, he promised not to.

A man touched you, didn’t he?

“Yes.”

You tried to actively stop him? Telling him he was mistaken?

“I ...”

A simple yes or no, please. Did you try to stop that man from touching you? Or did you

perhaps, on a subconscious level – I’m not here to judge you – welcome his attention? You just told us

you were frustrated about certain facts in your relationship with Mr Borghart. That he was spending

the evening with his parents and that you weren’t welcome in his home until after his parents had gone

back to Holland. That you had been drinking.

“I love Daniël. I would never hurt him on purpose. He’s not just the man I’m going to marry,

he’s my best friend. He was my last thought when I was dying. Is nothing sacred to you? I’m very

sorry, I shouldn’t have …”

I can only compliment you on your loyalty to your fiancé, but this is about the truth and about

justice. Did you try to stop that man?

“No ...I didn’t know how ...”

Thank you. What happened then?

“Everyone ran away.”

And you were confronted with the group of men present in this room?

“Yes. Fans of KTFC. At least that was my first thought. ”

How did you know they were fans?

“They recognised me. Most people in Kinbridge know about the skipper...Matthew Kirkby, but

only fans who follow the club would have recognised me. Later, when they attacked me, I knew for

sure.”

I bet they were happily surprised to meet a regular player of their favourite team.

“They weren’t.”

Perhaps because of the place you were at that moment? Could it be possible they had witnessed

by accident that a man was touching you inappropriately?

“But ...”

That must have been something of a shock. Group of mates, having shared a few pints at the

local pub, perhaps a pint too many, heading home via a short-cut through the park and there they are

confronted with one of their heroes. A player of their beloved Kinbridge Town Football Club getting

touched up by another man.

“I ...”

Are you absolutely sure those men are the same as the men in the dock?

“Yes. I know that for certain. I looked at their faces.”

And what did you see?

“Disbelief. Horror. I think I even remember one mentioned something about his kid’s football

kit. I’ll never forget ...”

Your number, perhaps? Something like that? His little boy playing your position?

“Might be.”

Thank you. I have no more questions.

Steve feels his body crumble. The shaking must be even visible to everyone present in the

courtroom. It will be impossible for him to get up and leave the witness box with even a modicum of

dignity.

“The prosecution has any more questions for the witness? If they are more than one or two, we

should perhaps postpone those questions until after lunch.” The judge informs; her voice businesslike.

“The prosecution has no more questions, Your Honour.”

Steve knows Daniël is looking at him, but he can’t look at Daniël. He can’t bear the hurt on the

face of his boy. Everything screams in pain.

“Can I go home, please? Danny?”

Then, suddenly, Daniël’s arms are around him, and very soon Gael’s too and they help him to

the car whilst Matthew talks to the press.

“You’re safe now, love. We’ll go home first, you rest and then we’ll talk. Gael offered to drive

us home, because I can’t. Honestly, I can’t.”

“I really don’t know if I could have done this even half as well without breaking down much

earlier,” Gael says. “Matthew? I’ll take Dan and Steve home. You update the gaffer about today?”

Matthew nods. “That’s fine, lad. Dan? Take the day off tomorrow. With Degaré’s permission,

in case you’re worried about that.”

On the back seat Daniël takes Steve’s hand, like he has done countless times. Steve uses his

free hand to touch his lover’s face. “Don’t cry, Danny, please don’t cry.”

Chapter 29

On the bed, it is Steve holding Daniël, waiting until the silent tears have fallen. It hurts seeing

his beloved boy this sad, but it’s good to be needed, to be able to take care of him. Several ideas flash

through his mind about what exactly makes Daniël this upset, but he can only hope it isn’t because

Dan thinks he had been, even if only on a subconscious level, interested in the man touching him up.

That Steve had, without intention, been angry because their love had to be hidden from even Dan’s

parents like a shameful, dirty secret.

Daniël smiles through his tears, like he’s wondering about Steve’s thoughts, knowing him too

well to not make an educated guess.

“That lawyer was manipulating the jury. Perhaps even the judge. Public opinion. I saw what he

was trying to do and I can almost understand it. The facts are what they are, he can’t change that, but

he can try and make you look bad. It hurt me so much, seeing how he dragged you through the mud

but I knew I had to keep myself from shouting out, because that would have made it only harder on

you.”

Steve kisses him softly on the lips. “I remembered the words you had written on that piece of

paper. Those were the only important words in that courtroom. I think we have a lot to talk about, but

not before we’ve had something decent to eat and drink. Please, Danny, can I spoil you a little? You

always take such good care of me, now it’s time to try and do the same for you. I can make tea and

some nice sandwiches. I believe we have a few slices of roast left over from yesterday, so I don’t have

to use a carving knife. Would that be something?”

“That would be great. I love doing things for you, you know that, but I don’t want to keep you

from becoming independent again. I’ll take a quick shower and I’ll see you in the lounge in, say, about

half an hour?” Daniël nuzzles Steve’s neck. “I was so proud knowing that courageous man standing

there is going to be my husband. And when you said you loved me, for the entire courtroom to hear, I

wondered if even one of them really understood how lucky I am. Matthew and Gael perhaps. Must

have cost them a lot to be there, but they were. The others have sent messages, phoned me, told me

during the last training session they were thinking about us. And it’s not just the players: many of the

people working for the club as well. The girls told me lots of fans are letting us know how much they

support us in thought. You know how the gaffer hated he couldn’t be with us.”

“I know. It means a lot to me. I hope they understand how much.” Steve kisses Dan once more

before he shoos him to the bathroom and goes to the kitchen himself to make sure they can eat lunch

in half an hour.

It takes a bit of looking around in what’s officially still his own kitchen to find where Dan

keeps everything, but it feels good being able to contribute to their little household with something

more than warm smiles and lots of kisses.

He tries not to think about the trial and the cross-examination and everything that will follow,

because he wants to fully enjoy this moment of having overcome another obstacle. He concentrates on

putting the kettle on and placing the teabags in the mugs, on buttering the slices of bread, on putting

slices of cold meat on them and finishing it with a thin layer of honey mustard. Leave the green stuff

for another time.

He fully appreciates how much time and effort it takes him to perform this undemanding task,

and perhaps he should be angry about this because no one in court asked him about how this feels for a

grown man, who was used to having his independence. Still, no honest concern and sympathy would

change a single detail of the facts.

No, better he concentrate on making sure the tea doesn’t get too strong.

*

“I’m really hungry.” Daniël takes a big bite of the first sandwich. “Nice.”

Steve can’t help but grin from ear to ear.

They eat and drink in amicable silence, their legs touching, content with the simple food and

each other’s company.

“They will get their jail time, those men, and …” Daniël starts. “No matter what that lawyer

tried. But I bet we won’t like the numbers. You didn’t die; perhaps he even influenced how long they

will be put away by making you look bad. But what punishment would ever be enough for what’s been

done to you? To us? One at a time in a room with me and the other boys for, let’s say ten minutes?

Letting them rot in a hole in the ground for the rest of their miserable lives? Money? This wasn’t an

accident, an emotional flash in the pan. Their defence lawyer tried to sell them off as decent fans with

kids, being all shocked by the behaviour of one of their heroes, but they were out to hurt people long

before you set even one foot into the Queen Elizabeth Park.”

Steve nods and hums his encouragement.

“I know they won’t get what they deserve and I have to live with that and I don’t know how. I

don’t want hate and obsession with revenge dirtying our marriage, but there have been dreams I’m too

ashamed to tell you about, because they gave me such vile pleasure. I saw them sitting there and I

wondered how these men I had those dreams about could suddenly be that insignificant. Then I

realised I had you beside me. If I would be allowed, I would kill them. They don’t even have to suffer;

I’ve seen enough of that in the past months. But I’m not, and so I have to leave them behind. But how

do I do that?”

“I thought I would be trembling with fear, being confronted with my attackers. Instead I felt

almost indifference. I wouldn’t even have minded the cross examination all that much, I know there

will always be people doubting my words, but I hated how that lawyer made me say things twisted

into half-truths. He made me hurt you.” Steve feels how he can’t stop himself from digging the fingers

of his right hand into Daniël’s left thigh.

“He failed. I did hurt, so much, but not because I believed for even one second what he tried to

make you say. So what if you had a few pints? I can imagine you being frustrated about how we had to

hide all the time. I know I was. I wanted to introduce you to mum and dad, not keep my mouth shut

about you for two days. Whether or not our relationship is sexually exclusive is between you and me

and no one else. And even if you had been cruising, that still wouldn’t be an excuse for what they did

to you. It shouldn’t have been about if you are a true saint of a victim, almost inhuman in perfection,

but about the fact that a human being has been so brutally attacked he almost died. The rest of our

lives will be influenced by what happened in that park. And the ones responsible for that need to be

put away for as many years as the law allows.” Daniël frowns. “You looked so lost and lonely and I

needed to be with you, because I saw how much you needed me. It felt like I was abandoning you.”

“It must have been excruciating for you, sitting there, watching.”

“Your words felt like poison to me. No matter what I pretend, it would have hurt like mad if

you had been there to look for sex with other men. And that was exactly what that lawyer was aiming

for; making everyone doubt.”

Steve closes his eyes for a moment to let the panic pass through his body.

“Please, don’t think I doubted your love or your integrity for even a millisecond. But it still

reminded me of how close I had been to losing you. And then it wouldn’t have mattered for what

reason you had been there, because you wouldn’t have been able to tell me. I know you are your own

man, but I don’t want anyone but me seeing that look in your eyes when you’re inside me, or hearing

that soft moan right before you come, or knowing how your spunk tastes or how hard you get when

you watch me getting on my hands and knees, begging for your fingers or your cock. I don’t want to

share you. I’m sorry.”

“It will give me nothing but joy to reserve my body, or what is left of it, exclusively for you.

But would it be fair to ask the same of you?”

Daniël huffs his indignation. “It has nothing to do with fair; or with morals, for that matter.

Not even sure if I can explain it, but I lost whatever interest I might have had in other men. When you

were still in the danger zone, I almost forgot I had a body myself. I ate and drank because they forced

me. I slept because I couldn’t keep myself awake. I was dying with you. But once it was clear I

wouldn’t lose you and I had to be patient until you were ready to wake up, I started to feel alive

again.”

Steve drinks the last of his tea. He touches Daniël’s hand with his own.

“Nearly every single day you were in that hospital, I masturbated under the shower.

Remembering us. Wanting you. Always wanting you. Not just sex. You. I couldn’t have endured the

touch of another man. Still can’t. If anything, it has only become stronger. More absolute.”

“You need me to make love to you?” Steve asks gently.

Daniël nods silently.

“Come to the bedroom then.”

This time, he is the one taking the lead, thankful that Daniël allows himself to be cared for, to

be pampered.

Steve kisses his lover, letting his hands travel all over his body at leisure. No part is more

important than the other. “Please Danny, ask me want you want and let me decide if I’m able to give it

to you?”“

Take me from behind?”

“Seeing you offering yourself to me in that position is definitely worth a little pain.” Steve

takes the bottle of lubricant from the small side table. “Open your legs as wide as possible.”

The instruction isn’t really needed, the preparations might just as well be minimal, but they

both enjoy it too much to cut any corners. Dan wraps his fingers around his own erection, stroking

slowly, teasing Steve to get the goods while they’re hot.

“Hand me that pillow, please? Makes it a bit easier on my knees.”

“You’re comfortable? I can adjust my position to whatever is best for you. No trouble at all.”

Daniël kisses Steve before he turns his back to him and gets on his hands and knees. “This is okay?”

“More than okay. Perfect.” Steve checks one more time with his finger to confirm his lover is

indeed ready and presses the head of his cock against the pucker. He pauses.

“Don’t tease me. Don’t make me beg for it. Please …”

He’s in, tight heat gripping him, taking his breath away. Happiness almost hurting more than

the unwilling muscles of his legs and back. Than the bones and tendons that might never heal to their

old perfection.

Daniël curves his back deeper to give as much access as possible, presses his shoulders against

the mattress in full surrender. “Please, let me feel I belong to you. Everything is too much and I just

want to be your boy, offering myself to my man.”

Steve places one hand against Daniël’s neck as a sign of gentle, accepting dominance. “You’re

mine, boy. And I am yours.”

Then he allows instinct to take over.

Chapter 30

Days go by. Weeks are followed by other weeks. Whatever was left of the summer is now

definitely gone. But in the greyness of autumn, the house they bought is slowly turning into something

Steve hopes will become their home. But he isn’t worried about it, because he can’t imagine being

anywhere with Daniël and not calling it a home.

Daniël plays a few matches on home ground and finally plays his first away game. Songs are

being sung by the fans. Chants are being chanted. Nice ones and not-so-nice ones. They both try to

take it all with a bit of humour and after a while, Steve is actually able to enjoy the game without

being frightened and overwhelmed. Seeing Dan happy makes him happy.

Daniël scores his first goal of the season. His index fingers pointing at his lover and his big

radiant smile mean the world to Steve. This moment is between the two of them, no matter how many

eyes are watching.

“This one’s for Steve,” he will later see the boy say during the short interview at the end of the

game, “just like any other goal I’ll ever score. And since I’m a defender; like any goal for the

opponent that didn’t happen because I prevented it. Without Steve in the stands, I wouldn’t be on the

pitch.”

The next day, there’s an article in the Kinbridge Chronicle and it is Steve who reads it out loud

to his visibly shy lover, his index finger leading him slowly through the rows of printed letters that

make words that make sentences that make a story.

“There was this almost shocking moment when I could have sworn I saw Gavan himself play,

though not necessarily in the way Borghart moved over the field. They are too different in style to ever

be mistaken for the other. Gavan: the patient gentleman, always waiting for that one moment he was

truly needed. Using his talent to read the opponent’s intentions to make up for the speed he lacked. A

calming influence during moments of panic. Borghart: the young dog, with an overload of energy. Fast

and aggressive. Eager to keep Kinbridge Town’s half of the pitch clean, but also hungry for more.

‘Highly talented’ and ‘has a promising future’ were the most common phrases used to describe him.

No longer so, because what I have seen during the last matches is a mature defender who stands his

ground. A man focused on the job, like the noise surrounding him doesn’t even touch him. And most

likely it doesn’t.

“When asking the Kinbridge Town manager about a possible transfer for Borghart, the answer

is an almost impatient, ‘Do I look like a fool to you?’

“It was a boy who left the pitch after the 1-0 defeat against Birmingham ... and the boy

returned a man."

Daniël’s voice is soft and brittle. “But can I still be your boy? When I really need it?”

Steve gets on his feet and takes Dan in his arms. And that’s answer enough.

*

“Seems like you’re starting to find your own place in this club again. Understand what I mean?

No longer one of us, although you’ll always be one of us, not one of the wags of course, never just one

of the supporters,” Gabrysz says after morning training.

They’re having lunch and before work at the gym starts Steve has plenty of time for a chat with

Gabrysz and Niko. From the corner of his eyes he sees Daniël cracking jokes with Kurt and Neil. It’s

good to see the boy laugh out loud.

He returns his attention to Gabrysz and Niko. “It’s great going to the games now I know most

fans, and not just our own, behave well. And the rest?” He shrugs. “There will always be the rest.”

Gabrysz finishes his coffee. “True. You already have any idea about what you’re going to do

after all this? You are – were – one of the most intelligent defenders I’ve ever played with. I bet you

saw how good Dan could become before you saw that other thing.”

Steve’s not sure if he understands the goalie’s words, even if he knows exactly what the man is

saying.

“When a footballer is too old or too injured to compete on this level, he’s is still a young man,

with thirty, forty, fifty years ahead of him.”

“You believe I’ll ever work again?”

“You know about football, you’re clever, experienced and Dan’s going to support you in

everything you want to give a try …” Gabrysz shrugs. “It’s none of my business.”

“That’s okay. And you’re right about what you say, but I guess I’m still not bored with physio

and trying to read the labels on cans and jars.”

“In less than a month, you’re going to be a married man,” Niko says, finally joining the

conversation. “Nervous?”

Steve doesn’t miss the grateful look in Gabrysz’s eyes.

“No...yes. It’s a bit more than three weeks, actually.”

“And no matter how much you start with the intention to keep it simple and intimate, you end

up with dozens of guests and they all need dinner and cake and a bit of music to dance to,” Gabrysz

teases.

“The part that’s about Danny and me signing the marriage certificate is no problem at all, but

it’s all the rest that makes it so complicated, to be honest. We’re getting married in Holland for

obvious reasons, moving everyone back to Kinbridge for the party and, hopefully, getting a bit of rest

in between. You bet we gratefully accepted the offer of the Goldmans to use their private jet during

two days. And that’s including crew members and any costs for fuel, airport fees and what have you.

Makes it all a lot easier. They’re very generous people who care a lot about the club.”

Both Niko and Gabrysz nod their approval.

Steve sighs. “Take it from me, without Danny I wouldn’t have a clue how to even get

married...that sounds a bit weird.”

“That’s just nerves. I bet the press has shown interest too, to make it even more complicated.

Two footballers of the same club getting married to each other and all.” Gabrysz munches on a piece

of bread he used to wipe up some sauce.

“If we could, we would ignore it. Had we both been with a woman, we would have gotten away

with it, too. But now ...” Steve sighs. “There’s going to be an interview a week before the wedding.

That’s being filmed at my place; makes it a bit more informal and personal. We’re going to move to

our new home anyway. It will be free for distribution on TV and internet, under certain conditions.

And we decided to provide photos from the day but, just like with the interview, not to sell any