Short Story

A WINTER WEDDING

Jan Garner, The Sherborne Scribblers

February, are you joking?’ Her mother stopped peeling the potato and dropped it into the bowl of water.

‘No, I’m not. It’s all booked for 14th at one o’clock. We’ve been down to St John’s and seen the vicar - he’s delighted by the way. He’s never had a wedding on Valentine’s day before.’

‘Oh but why don’t you wait and have a nice summer wedding, like your sister? That was a lovely day and it turned out just as she wanted.’

‘Yes, it was fantastic; exactly what Lauren and Stewart had planned. But that’s not what Jamie and I want.’

‘But it will be freezing; it may even snow,’ said her horrified mother.

‘That’s what I’m hoping for Mum; wouldn’t it be magical if it did?’

‘Did you hear that, Gregory? Our daughter’s getting married in the middle of winter, and can you believe it; she wants it to snow!’

‘Well,’ said her father glancing up from his newspaper, ‘I can’t see anything wrong with that. It’s their day after all.’

‘Thanks, Dad, I knew you’d understand,’ she said as she left the kitchen before her mother could raise any more objections.

‘Trust you to agree with her. She always could wrap you around her little finger. Honestly, though, don’t you think a summer wedding would be much nicer?’

‘No I don’t,’ he said. ‘Winter was always her favourite time of year, even when she was a small child. Don’t you remember those bitterly cold days when the pair of us stood and shivered as we watched her toboggan down Pitcombe Hill? Her cheeks glowed like shiny ripe apples. She was such a tomboy.’ He looked away, a hint of a tear in his eyes. ‘And I can still picture her fingers, like little red sausages poking through the holes in her gloves as she built a snowman in the garden on one of the coldest days of the year.’ ‘Ah yes, I remember. I thought we’d all freeze to death. But you’re right,’ she conceded. ‘It is their day after all.’

At breakfast the next morning, her mother was full of smiles. ‘Tell me, have you decided what sort of dress you want for your big day Jess?’

‘I thought something in white velvet with a cloak trimmed with fake fur and instead of flowers the bridesmaids and I could have muffs. What do you think Mum?’ She winked across the table at her father; he’d obviously had a word.

‘Perfect, you’ll look gorgeous love. Just like Julie Christie in Dr Zhivago. And I have been thinking about what I should wear. Would my new winter coat be suitable? Of course I’ll buy some smart new shoes and a posh handbag to go with it.’

‘Yes, that’ll be just the thing, and perhaps we can find you a nice Cossack-style hat to go with it,’ laughed Jess.

‘And what about your going-away outfit?’ Her mother finished pouring the cup of tea and passed it across the table. ‘You are having a honeymoon, aren’t you?’

‘Of course we are. We’re going to Norway. I won’t have to dress up in anything fancy there.

The hotel we’ve booked is built completely out of ice. I’ll only need some thermal underwear and my warm hiking gear. And guess what,’ she beamed at her mother, ‘for a special treat, Jamie’s paid for us to go sledging with huskies. I’m so excited Mum. It’ll be fantastic, and with any luck, we might see the Aurora Borealis.’

Her mother shook her head as she buttered her toast. She didn’t understand her youngest daughter, but secretly she was very proud of her. Jess had worked hard to get to uni and with a degree in meteorology, had landed her dream job as a weather girl on the local television station.

Jess had met Jamie at a climate change rally and been smitten by his rugged good looks. But it was his caring and gentle character, together with his love of nature and the outdoors that made her fall hopelessly in love with him. After that first meeting, the pair were inseparable and their engagement in less than a year was no surprise to anyone.

On the day before the ceremony, she was in the studio waiting for the presenter to finish the news bulletin. ‘Just before I hand you over to Jess for tonight’s weather forecast,’ he said, ‘I would like to wish her the very best for her wedding tomorrow.’

‘Ah, thank you,’ she smiled as the camera zoomed in on her. ‘I must confess dear viewers that I have been praying all week for snow, but don’t worry; there isn’t any chance of that happening. In fact,’ she turned to the chart behind her, ‘as you can see we have some above-average temperatures due over the next few days.’

After she finished the broadcast, she said her goodbyes to the team and headed off to the Royal Hotel in town. The receptionist came out from behind her desk to greet her. ‘If you’d like to come with me, everything is ready. I hope you’ll be pleased.’ As the girl swung open the double doors of the function suite, hundreds of white fairy lights twinkled around the room. ‘It’s beautiful, absolutely beautiful,’ cried Jess as she stepped into the room and spun around. Glass icicles hung from swags of frosted ivy and pure white roses coated in silver glitter sat on tablecloths dusted with fake snow. ‘Thank you. You’ve done a fantastic job. It’s just as I imagined it; a perfect winter wonderland.’

By noon the next day, everyone except Jess and her father had left for the church. ‘No snow, I’m afraid,’ he said as he looked out over the front garden at the leafless trees and dismal sky.

‘No, but then I knew when we planned the wedding that even with all the long-range satellite technology, it was impossible to forecast this far ahead. Still, I kept hoping. I know mum thinks I’m being silly, but I’ve always hoped and dreamed that it would snow on my wedding day.’

‘Well, never mind love, it will be a splendid day whatever the weather.’ He drew her into his arms and gave her a big hug. ‘And you’re not silly. You should never give up on your dreams. Sometimes they do come true. Now then,’ he said as he spotted the white-ribboned limousine pulling up outside the house. ‘Are you ready? Best not keep that handsome young man of yours waiting.’

It was a lovely service and as the couple made their way back down the aisle the two ushers pushed open the church doors. Jess was speechless; a blanket of snow covered the churchyard and gossamer snowflakes floated silently down like confetti.

‘What did I tell you,’ her father smiled, as everyone came out of the church and took their places for the photographs. ‘Dreams can come true,’ he said, as the man in charge of the snow machine released another shower of snow, ‘with a little bit of help.’