The ceremony was brief and free from fuss, with simple readings and traditional vows: Emma had worried that she would cry during the vows, but as it turned out, it was Matthew who faltered, although he collected himself quickly and threw at her a glance of alarmed relief. The next thing she knew, the vows were over, the registrar pronounced them husband and wife, Matthew—her quiet, contained Matthew—launched himself upon her with a kiss so fiery that it took her breath away, the room burst into laughter and applause, and Emma was married.

After the ceremony and the photographs, the guests were offered a buffet meal from a catering company recommended by Charlie, which they ate at tables decorated with pots of paperwhites. Aunt Amy, sitting at her table near the buffet waiting for Susan to bring her a plate, was joined by Jamie, his plate heaped high with chicken, salmon, and beef.

“Shouldn’t you have some vegetables with that?” she asked him, looking with interest at his selection.

He frowned at her in faint surprise. “I’m a bachelor,” he explained.

Aunt Amy, unusually, was silenced.

Javier and Charlie waited at their table next to Aunt Amy’s until the line had diminished before going for their food. “This is a phenomenal wedding,” said Javier quietly, to Charlie. “All this light, and everything so clear and simple, I have never been to a wedding like this before. My parents would not like it so much, because they are quite conventional and they prefer things to be Catholic, but, for me, I like it.” He frowned, a little anxiously. “You are Catholic, aren’t you?” he asked.

She smiled at him and laid a hand on his knee beneath the table.

“I’m half Italian,” she reminded him, “and half Irish. I think we can safely say that I’m Catholic.”

He smiled back, and set his hand on top of hers.

On Aunt Amy’s other side, she was joined by Nigel-Manolete with his partner, a very large, very handsome young man from the West Indies.

“I’ll tell you something you won’t often hear me say, Auntie,” he told her. “And that’s that if anyone in the world could tempt me from my lovely Winston here, it’s your corker of a niece.”

“Excuse me.” Aunt Amy favored him with one of her more chilling stares. “Have we been introduced?” she asked after a moment.

“No,” he said. “But I know you’re family, and do you know how?” He winked. “The legs. They’re unmistakable. The minute you walked in, I thought, Aha! So that’s where the bride gets her gorgeous gams.”

People very rarely addressed Aunt Amy thus. Watching with interest from the safety of the next table, Charlie was surprised to see her pinken a little and toss her head. “I’ve been told they aren’t bad,” she admitted. “For an old lady.”

Nigel nudged her. “Oh, go on,” he said. “You’re in your prime, and you know it.”

Aunt Amy looked pensive. If she had had a fan, thought Charlie, she would have rapped him with it at that point.