25th August 2017

During the build-up to Sarah and Lee’s wedding, the main concern was what the weather would do. The long-term forecast predicted that the week of the ceremony would be very damp, but it suggested that Wednesday might be the best day. And so it turned out to be. Monday and Tuesday saw heavy showers throughout the day, and the same was true for Thursday and Friday. However, a wonderful Wednesday was perfect, sunshine, blue skies, and puffy white clouds, which were ideal for photos and a reception in a marquee. Thank you very much to the weather witches of Leicestershire.

The Wedding Timeline

Saturday: Charlotte stayed at Sarah’s in Newbold Verdon to help with the preparations.

Sunday: Sue drove to Tenbury Wells to collect Sheila Palmer, who was going to stay with us for the Wedding. Charlotte and Sarah spent the day at Eden Hall enjoying a pamper day. I took the opportunity of a reasonable weather forecast to paint the balcony decking.

Monday: Sue and Sheila occupied Ellis and Lucas in Corby on Muddy Mondays (a play scheme).

Tuesday: Sarah brought Mia for Sue and me to look after until she returned from her honeymoon. Later in the day, Charlotte arrived, and the two of them set off to The Blue Bell pub in Easton on the Hill to help Lee prepare the marquee. Sarah and Charlotte stayed the night with the bridesmaids at a lovely cottage in Braunston, Rutland, while Lee had separate accommodation with the best man and friends, near Oakham.

Wedding Day: After breakfast, I took Mia to a neighbour of Charlotte’s, who had volunteered to look after her overnight. I returned to Harborough, followed by Suraj and two very smart-looking page boys, Lucas and Ellis.

After changing into my suit, Suraj drove me to the cottage in Braunston, while Sue took Sheila and the boys to Normanton Church on Rutland Water. On arriving at the cottage, we were greeted by the photographer as Sarah was preparing for the ceremony. Earlier that morning, the girls had been attended to by a hairdresser and stylist, and they all looked stunning. But when Sarah stepped out in her wedding dress, I was utterly lost for words. My little girl had become a beautiful young woman, and I felt immensely proud to be walking her up the aisle. Before leaving the cottage, the photographer arranged a series of shots of the girls set against a truly idyllic rural backdrop.

Suraj departed in his car with the bridesmaids for the church, leaving Sarah and me with a short wait before the wedding limousine arrived to carry the proud father and bride to the ceremony.

By the time our car swept along the south shore of the lake and paused discreetly about a hundred metres away, most of the guests were already seated. How things have changed since Sue and I exchanged our vows.

Before Sarah could enter, the registrar had to conduct a brief interview with her, which took place in the car. This was, I believe, to confirm that the bride on the official paperwork was indeed the person present on the day, a precaution, perhaps, against irregularities. The short delay proved useful, as it allowed a few latecomers to slip quietly into the church.

As we stood outside the church on the promontory that jutted into the lake, I couldn’t help but reflect on a curious theme with my daughters: both had chosen to marry within a few steps of water. The church in Tenbury Wells, where Sue and I exchanged our vows, stands beside the River Teme. I do wonder if that had been an influence.

During the ceremony, although I followed the proceedings intently, my attention was occasionally drawn to the little white-sailed yachts scudding past the windows, framed as if in a painting by Enrique Simonet. How utterly perfect, only a few hundred metres away was ‘Annie’, their newly purchased yacht.

Once the formalities were concluded, we followed the photographer’s direction as he organised our rather substantial party into a variety of groupings and poses, with the picturesque church as a backdrop. After every possible family and friend combination had been captured, supplemented by more natural, candid shots, we finally made our way to the reception.

The party from Nottingham had travelled to the church by coach. Sue, Sheila and I passed them on our way to the reception, just managing to beat them to one of the very last parking spaces in the pub car park. On arrival, we were greeted with drinks, and no sooner had we sat down to catch up with friends and relatives than trays of savoury chicken skewers appeared. Out in the adjoining field, a selection of games had been laid on for the children, which went down extremely well, not least because they kept the little ones happily occupied (and blessedly quiet). After half an hour of mingling in the sunshine (mercifully, we had no need of the marquee), we were summoned inside by the Master of Ceremonies, looking every bit the part in his splendid red attire.

As tradition dictates, the top table led the way to the buffet, with the remaining tables called up in turn at the MC’s command. Eventually, my turn arrived. The father of the bride was invited to address the assembled guests, a task I had planned carefully. I had prepared a few brief, sensible remarks before proposing the traditional toast to the bride and groom. Unfortunately, once I stood up, something very strange happened: my speech grew… and grew. What was meant to be a polite five minutes turned into something closer to twenty-five, fuelled by a mixture of pride, nerves, and, I suspect, the gentle encouragement of the bar. The demon drink does have a way of loosening the tongue!

Fortunately, the groom responded with perfect timing and good humour, and the best man followed with a speech that was every bit as entertaining as it was mercifully shorter.

The cutting of the cake was rather unconventional: instead of tiers of sponge, it consisted entirely of different layers of cheese, and the ceremonial knife was no ordinary blade but a sabre, supplied by the Master of Ceremonies. It was quirky, highly novel and great fun.

With the formalities over, the evening turned to mingling and entertainment. Guests of all ages flocked to the photo booth, shedding their inhibitions as they donned fancy dress and pulled a variety of amusing poses. I suspect the earlier toasts may have played no small part in encouraging such exuberance. Other highlights included a singer–musician with a fine voice, who had once appeared on The X Factor, and one of Sarah’s colleagues, who bravely took to the stage for a stand-up comedy routine. Later, the inevitable DJ arrived to keep the dance floor busy.

The blending of two families can sometimes be a delicate affair, but thanks to Sarah and Lee’s meticulous planning, the whole day unfolded with warmth and good humour. They created an atmosphere that left smiles on everyone’s faces. The only tears were for loved ones no longer with us, who were tenderly remembered in small but thoughtful ways.

As the evening drew on, Ashton kindly made a couple of trips to the William Cecil Hotel in nearby Stamford, ferrying the Rothwells, Sheila, Sue, Jamie and me to our rooms. Glowing with a mixture of pride and perhaps a little alcohol, I slept soundly.

Married Life
Lee and Sarah Price spent their first night of marriage at the cottage in Braunston, where Sarah and the bridesmaids had stayed the night before. They spent most of the following day enjoying a well-deserved ‘duvet day’.

At the William Cecil, all of us, except Jamie and Ashton, who had departed early for work, gathered for breakfast. Afterwards, Suraj and I took a taxi back to the Blue Bell to help with the clear-up and collect the unused food, while the others enjoyed a spot of window shopping in Stamford. We loaded as much as possible into Suraj’s car, then he followed me in Sue’s car back to Stamford to pick up the rest of our party before we all returned to Harborough. Later that day, I collected Mia, who seemed rather pleased to see me again.

At six the following morning, Lee and Sarah arrived at Willow Bank for me to drive them to Manchester Airport, ready to set off on their honeymoon to the Far East. By coincidence, one of Sarah’s bridesmaids, Abby, was flying to the USA that same morning with her family, and I believe they even managed to share breakfast together in the departure lounge. From there, I continued to Salford, spending a very pleasant three and a half hours with Uncle Stan. He had declined our invitation to attend their wedding, and he had given a very generous gift of money to Sarah and Lee. I was eager to show him some of the photos and tell him how the wedding had gone. At ninety-five, his mind remains wonderfully sharp, though his eyesight is failing; he was due for a cataract operation on the 28th, which we all hoped would help. On the return journey to Harborough, I found myself caught in a thunderstorm, forced along with other traffic to be stationary on the motorway for quite a while. As it turned out, Sarah and Lee’s plane was also stuck on the runway by the same storm for an hour.

The rest of the week was spent entertaining Sheila, Ellis and Lucas. Thankfully, the weather held fair, allowing the boys to split their time between the garden and their iPads. Sue drove Sheila back to Tenbury Wells on Sunday, and on Tuesday, we (Mia included) joined the boys in returning Sarah’s wedding dress hoop to the bridal shop in Sileby before checking on the house in Braunston. Everything seemed in order. On our way back to Harborough, we stopped for ice creams and a pleasant stroll around Knighton Park.

It was Sue’s birthday on the 23rd, which we marked with a trip to the Odeon Cinema in Kettering, followed by an evening meal at Casa Nostra, a new Italian restaurant in Harborough.

Other News: The Rothwells have booked a week away in Normandy for the following week.

Sarah and Lee had a great time in South Korea (avoided starting any wars) and have now moved on to Vietnam.

At the weekend, Jamie is hosting his first training seminar at the Hilton Hotel in Liverpool on how to use his Binary Destroyer software. As an indication of the success of his business, next week, he will be purchasing an Aston Martin.