Lucy Gordon - And the Bride Wore Red

He was looking at Olivia as he said this, a slight question in his eyes.

‘Yes,’ she said joyfully. ‘She understood. It took her too long, but in the end she really understood.’

Biyu touched Lang’s cheek.

‘Congratulations,’ she said. ‘You are truly a son of Renshu.’

She drifted away into the darkness.

‘That was it,’ Olivia said. ‘That’s what you were waiting for, the moment of complete acceptance. It came in its own time.’

‘As you said it would. You were right, as you are right about everything. I can safely put my fate in your hands, and tomorrow that is what I will do.’

He drew her close, not in a kiss but a hug. Their bodies pressed tightly together so that in the darkness they looked like one person. Looking back at them, Biyu smiled in satisfaction.

Because there were so many guests the wedding could not be held at home, and a hall had been booked two streets away.

Norah was with her as soon as she rose. Suyin made the connection and kept the camera on Olivia as they prepared her in her red-satin gown and dressed her hair in the style of a married woman, as she would soon become.

Norah watched it all in ecstasy. She had rested all day so that she would be fresh enough to stay up overnight, and now she and her nurse sat together, eyes fixed on the screen.

The groom, accompanied by the sound of drums and gongs, arrived in a sedan chair to collect his bride and take her to the place of the marriage. Olivia was pleased to see that he looked as splendidly handsome in traditional attire as she had known he would.

At this point there was a small delay. The groom requested that the bride appear but the bride’s attendants, in accordance with tradition, refused to produce her until mollified by gifts. Since the attendants were the children of the house, there was a good deal of horse trading, led by Ting, and the price rose higher and higher.

‘How are they doing?’ Olivia asked Suyin from behind the window.

‘Ting is driving a hard bargain,’ Suyin chuckled. ‘At this rate, you’ll be lucky to be married today.’

At last Biyu intervened, declaring that enough was enough. The children seized their prizes and scampered away, squeaking with satisfaction.

Then it was time for the bride to get into her sedan chair for the journey to where the ceremony was to take place. All around her firecrackers exploded as she began her journey.

As they travelled she couldn’t help thinking about Zhu Yingtai going to her wedding in a similar sedan, stopping it beside Liang Shanbo’s grave and leaving it to join him for ever. It was in memory of this that Lang had given her the silver butterflies, and now she wore them both on her dress.

The wedding itself was simple. In the hall they approached the altar and spoke the words of homage to heaven and earth and the ancestors. There followed the declaration of homage to each other, expressed formally, but saying so much more than mere words could ever convey.

One of Lang’s young cousins had undertaken to care for the laptop with the camera, and he did his duties so well that Norah saw everything close-up.

When the little ceremony was over the bride and groom bowed to each other. Now it was time for the feast. An elaborate paper dragon bounded into the room and performed a dance to loud applause. Then Suyin sang the song she had written in their honour:

‘Now our family is happy

Because you are a part of us.

This you will always be,

Near or far.’

Hidden by the heavy red satin, Olivia reached out her hand for Lang’s and felt him seize her in return. They both understood the message: near or far.

There was an extra touch that she hadn’t expected but which filled her with happiness: Suyin went to stand before the camera and sang directly to Norah, repeating in English the words she had already sung, welcoming Norah as one of them.

Everyone saluted Norah, and she in turn raised a glass.

At last it was over. The crowds faded, the noise was silenced, darkness fell and they were finally alone.

‘Are you happy?’ Lang asked as they lay together.

‘If this is the only happiness I ever know for the rest of my life,’ she replied softly, ‘it will be enough. I have everything.’

‘And I shall give you everything in my power,’ he vowed. ‘All I ask is your love and your eternal presence.’

Her lips answered him silently, and after that nothing more was said.

They lingered two more days, paying visits of respect to those who had come in from distant places to be at their wedding. Then it was time to go. Everyone came to see them off at the airport.

Lang was very quiet, but sometimes his eyes rested on Olivia’s shoulder where she had pinned the two butterflies, symbols of eternal love and fidelity. He was content.

At last the goodbyes were finished and they were on the aircraft, gliding down the runway, taking off.

Higher they climbed, and higher, with the ground falling away beneath them until they were in the clouds. Then the clouds too disappeared and they were up in the clear, brilliant air, still climbing. Olivia watched through the window, entranced by the beauty. But then…

She blinked and gave herself a little shake. She was dreaming; she must be. Because otherwise she could have sworn she saw two butterflies flying together.

That was impossible. No butterfly could climb this high. When she looked back, the illusion would have disappeared.

But it persisted: two bright, darting creatures fluttering here and there, until at last they turned and winged their way towards the sun, blended with the air and vanished as if they had never been.

Full of wonder, she turned to Lang and found that he too was looking out of the window. Then he smiled at her and nodded.

Norah lived another eighteen months, finally dying peacefully with Olivia and Lang holding her hands.

She was cremated, and when they returned to China they took her ashes and laid them in the little temple with the ashes of Meihui.

Her photograph is there today, with one of Edward close by. They stand opposite the pictures of Meihui and John Mitchell.

Beside them are more pictures, of Lang, Olivia and their baby son.

Above them on the wall are written the words of the faith by which Jaio and Renshu lived two-thousand years ago, and which still survive in their descendants:

Love is the shield that protects us from harm.

Lucy Gordoncut her writing teeth on magazine journalism, interviewing many of the world’s most interesting men, including Warren Beatty, Charlton Heston and Roger Moore. She also camped out with lions in Africa, and had many other unusual experiences, which have often provided the background for her books. Several years ago, while staying in Venice, she met a Venetian who proposed within two days. They have been married ever since. Naturally this has affected her writing, where romantic Italian men tend to feature strongly. Two of her books have won the Romance Writers of America RITA ®Award.

You can visit her Web site at www.lucy-gordon.com.