Cathy Glass - Run, Mummy, Run

Aisha wore a very simple beige silk two-piece suit made by a dressmaker in London who Mark knew. It cost nearly as much as a full-length wedding dress, but Mark said it was more refined and in keeping with their maturity and a registry office wedding than something more flamboyant, and Aisha agreed. She carried a bouquet of lilies which her mother had arranged and wired together herself. Mark’s brother, whom he hadn’t seen in three years, was the best man, and naturally Aisha’s father gave her away. Aisha didn’t have a bridesmaid – with no sisters or relatives in England there wasn’t anyone she felt close enough to have comfortably asked. She had lost contact with her university friends, and since moving back home had been so busy with work she hadn’t had time to make new ones.

As Aisha repeated the words of the marriage service that she’d had so many years to practise, she said a silent prayer of thanks. Thank you God for sending me my perfect partner. You have made me very happy, and my parents unbelievably proud.

After the blessing, they were driven to the reception in a white Rolls-Royce – their one real extravagance of the day which Mark had insisted on. The reception was a five-course meal at The Crooked Chimney. The restaurant had been Mark’s suggestion although her father had paid for it. The sentiment of the venue was obvious, and Mark made it the focal point of his speech. He stood tall and proud and so very handsome in his suit as he spoke and pointed to the table where they’d sat on their first date, and where there was now a huge spray of flowers in the shape of a heart which he’d ordered secretly as a surprise for Aisha. He reminisced how he had gazed at Aisha across that candlelit table, and had been unable to eat because of his nerves. Aisha laughed for his nerves hadn’t been obvious and were nothing compared to how she had felt. Mark described how his first glimpse of Aisha had been sheltering from the rain and that he’d been immediately struck by her natural and unassuming beauty. He said he’d known from that moment on that one day he would make her his wife. He proposed a toast to Aisha’s parents, and thanked them for giving him their most cherished possession, and promised to look after Aisha as well as they had done. He said he would strive to live up to the honour of being their son-in-law and make them as proud of him as they were of their daughter. Aisha saw the look on her parents’ faces and those of the other guests as they raised their glasses for the toast, and felt a burst of pride. They obviously thought as she did, that to be loved and adored so much would create as near a perfect union as it was possible to get.

That evening, after the reception, they left for a week’s holiday in Dubai. They had purposely not called it a honeymoon – they felt that would have sounded frivolous at their age, a ‘short holiday’ was better Mark said. The destination was Mark’s choice, he had visited Dubai on business a number of times and wanted to share the splendour of its modern architecture with Aisha. As they waved goodbye through the rear window of the Rolls and the photographer took his last picture, Mark sat back in the car and sighed with relief. ‘Thank goodness that’s over with,’ he said. ‘It’s been the longest day of my life.’

Aisha laughed and poked him playfully in the ribs. ‘It wasn’t that bad! In fact, I quite enjoyed myself once I got over my nerves.’

‘So did I,’ he said. ‘But I had a nightmare last night that you would change your mind and call it off. It was so real I woke up in a cold sweat.’

‘Did you?’ she asked laughing. ‘But you know me better than that. I would never change my mind about you, ever.’ Little did she know how wrong she would be, for fate can be very cruel sometimes.

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