Jimmy and Jenny

 Jimmy sat on the front pew in the church, fiddling with the unaccustomed bow tie, resisting the temptation to fiddle with the white carnation in his lapel, which was not as indestructible as the bow tie. He had never been keen on suits, but his mother left him in no doubt that he would wear one for his wedding. He glanced sideways and saw her sitting there, looking as pretty as a picture in her daffodil yellow dress and neat little pillbox hat. He felt an enormous surge of love and gratitude for her. She was a woman who refused to be pigeon holed. She was a strong and independent woman and had always worked (she was a teacher and a darned good one too), but the greatest joy in her life was raising Jimmy. His Dad had died when he was only two, and she had never remarried. “I couldn’t be more proud of you, son,” she said, only that morning, expertly tying the bow tie – perhaps she would need to tie it again. And for once she didn’t add if only you were more punctual but he supposed she was thinking it. But somehow, no matter how many alarms he set on his phone, and how many old-fashioned alarm clocks he bought, he was, as he said himself, born without the punctuality gene. His mother, who could be superstitious, didn’t much like the expression you could be late for your own funeral, but she had made sure that, at least, he wasn’t late for his own wedding.

     He was so glad that Jenny and his mother got on famously. He’d have hated it if the two women he loved most in the world had an uneasy relationship with each other.

Jenny sat beside her father in the car adorned with white satin ribbons. He took her hand in his roughened, loving one. “You always look beautiful,” he said, “But today – “ he broke off, not quite trusting himself to speak. He had raised her by himself after her mother died. He was an indulgent and tolerant father, but admitted himself he did have a bit of an obsession about punctuality. He had once, as he put it himself, decades ago, come within a whisker of being sacked when he was late for work, and since then he had impressed on his daughter that though of course it wasn’t as important as things like being kind and being honest, punctuality mattered. She didn’t seem to need much telling, and to be a naturally punctual person. That was the one thing that bothered her about Jimmy. He was a terrible timekeeper. She told herself it wasn’t inconsiderate or discourteous – he was the most gentle and courteous man you could imagine. 

     This is supposed to be the happiest day of my life, she thought. So why am I letting such a thing bother me? But she couldn’t help thinking that sometimes procrastination could get you into trouble. She supposed she would have to see to the bills and make sure there were on time at parents’ evenings. Oh, my goodness, she thought, that’s getting ahead of things!

     “You okay, love?” her Dad asked.

     “Yes, I’m fine but – I just need to collect myself a bit.”

     “That’s only normal. I’m a tad nervy myself, I’ll admit! Want to drive round a bit more to steady yourself?”

     “Yes, please.” He asked the driver, who nodded at once, plainly used to such requests. 

    Jimmy was having a word with his best man; his long term friend Wayne. Wayne had clung to him like a limpet on the stag night the previous evening. Jimmy didn’t need to be told that that was on orders of his mother. She was no killjoy, and was quite happy for him to get slightly tipsy and sing a few questionable songs with his mates the evening before his wedding. It was one of those rites of passage.  But she had no wish for him to be arrested for being wrapped round a lamppost or with such a terrible hangover that he was an interesting shade of green and could barely speak his vows. Wayne was one of those men who looked and sometimes acted like a bit of a Jack the Lad, but was actually very responsible and didn’t want anything to spoil Jimmy’s big day. Jimmy had been late for the stag do, of course. The others were sitting in the Miller’s Daughter at the appointed “mustering time” as Wayne termed it of half past eight, but Jimmy didn’t turn up until nearly nine o’ clock. Jimmy’s mother wasn’t the only one who had noticed that he was fidgeting and restless. “Last minute nerves?” Wayne asked, with a mischievous grin.

     “You’re joking! This is the best thing I’ve done in my life, nor am ever likely to do. She’s too good for me!”

     “She’s an absolutely great girl, I won’t disagree there.” They were talking in hushed voices, the way you did in church, even when there was really no reason to. “But you’re made for each other. I sometimes find it really hard to believe that you weren’t childhood sweethearts.”

     “I couldn’t put it better myself.”

     Jenny’s Dad was in a quandary, looking at his daughter’s face which was, and he couldn’t deny it, decidedly troubled. Though he was so deeply fond of Jimmy, and eager to welcome him to the family, if he thought his daughter were having doubts he would not hesitate to say they could cancel the ceremony, and he would see to everything. To all the announcements and to all the official stuff. It would be a shame but anything in the world would be preferable to her being unhappy. Oh, Grace, what would you have done! On the wise advice of his wife’s own mother, to whom he’d been very close, he had not spent his whole life since she died, especially with regards to Jenny, asking himself what Grace would have done. You couldn’t live like that. But to this day, he still sometimes felt desperately inadequate and confused. He ached to say it, and to hear his daughter laugh and say, “Don’t be so silly, Dad!” But he was entirely prepared to see to things if she didn’t. She was a young woman now, an intelligent and successful one, and had probably long since stopped expecting her Dad to put everything right for her. But he still felt he should. He caught the driver’s eye – on the surface, his expression was impassive, but he supposed he must have experienced situations like this before, and was thinking, is this going to be one of those days? It was Jenny, not himself, who broke the silence. “Dad….” she said. He squeezed her hand even tighter, and didn’t need to say he was there to listen.

     “Mum,” whispered Jimmy. “Yes, son?” she asked, keeping her voice light and practical, though she had a good idea what he was going to say, and the same thought had entered her mind, and she hoped so desperately she was wrong. “It’s not like Jenny to be late!” This was most definitely not an occasion to say that now he was finding out what it was like to be kept waiting. It was not something trivial, to teach him a lesson that would be temporarily unpleasant or embarrassing but do no lasting damage. “Well, we don’t know what’s going on, Jim,” she said. “It could well be that the car got held up. These things happen.

     It was a comforting thought, and a perfectly logical explanation. True, the roads had seemed very quiet, but these things could happen in a couple of minutes. But knowing Jenny, and he had thought he did know Jenny, she (and her Dad) would have made sure it was booked with time to spare. Though she was a very modern young woman in most ways, she had been traditional with regard to her wedding dress – or nearly. She had told him it would be ivory. But no more would she reveal and he knew better than to try to force her. She would look utterly beautiful, he was sure of that. It would be a perfect day – wouldn’t it?

     Jenny had, typically, combined tradition and her own mildly rebellious streak in her choice of dress. As she had told Jimmy, it was ivory, and a very simple one, just touching her ankles, with three quarter sleeves. She had no time for frills and flounces, nor for spending vast amounts on a dress that might only be worn for one day – though she supposed it could be converted into an evening dress, not that she was the kind of person who wore evening dresses! But there was one exception – she had seen her parents’ wedding pictures, of course, and had scoured the shops for a piece of lace just like the one on the neckline of her mother’s wedding dress. Though she was no needlewoman, she had painstakingly sewn it in herself. She was also quite traditional with regard to the “something old, something new, something borrowed, something blue” saying. Her dress was new, of course, and round her neck she wore a little silver cross and chain that had been her Mother’s. Her cousin Lynda, who, to her regret, couldn’t be at the wedding, had lent her a little bangle. But when it came to the something blue, she had decided her veil should be blue! It was a pale powder blue with darker blue flowers delicately scattered across it. Her Dad, though no expert on such matters, knew that a blue wedding veil would certainly turn heads – but it looked just right, setting off her glossy chestnut hair that she had left hanging loose. “Dad – I know that Jimmy is such a great guy. I’m – not having second thoughts. I’m honestly not. But – the way he’s never on time for anything – I’m not going to pretend that it won’t get on my nerves at times.” She was plainly relieved that she had come out and said it. 

     “I expect it will,” he said, frankly. “It would get on mine. But maybe you and I do go a bit too far to the other extreme.” He paused. “I used to drive your Mum mad sometimes, you know. Oh, we were so happy,” he cleared his throat, “Couldn’t have been happier. But though I might have been punctual, I was terribly untidy. I’m know I’m hardly a neat freak, now!”

     “Thank Goodness!” said Jenny.

     “But I left things all over the place, often couldn’t find even the simplest things. And – yes, maybe she went a bit too far the other way. I – reckon there are very few couples who agree about everything. It wouldn’t be natural. We’d managed to reach a kind of compromise. Oh yes, we argued but that’s entirely normal, too.”

     “I know that, Dad,” she said, but the shadow had lifted from her face. “Let’s get to the church now. It wouldn’t do to keep Jimmy waiting – well – “ and to her Dad’s relief there was a grin on her face – “Not for too long.”

     Though she had heard the expression, and read it, many a time, Jimmy’s Mum had often wondered if a ripple really could go through a building. But a ripple was going through that church. Even the vicar was looking anxious. She hastened to assure them that there were no more ceremonies booked for that day, but was plainly sharing the same worries that everyone else did.

     And then, filling the church with the glorious strains of the Wedding March from Lohengrin, the organist had plainly seen what was happening first. Jenny walked up the aisle on her Dad’s arm, in her simple ivory dress with the blue veil that suddenly made every unmarried woman present think they wanted a blue veil, and every married one wish she’d had one and wondering if she could persuade her daughter or future daughter in law. 

     They made the traditional vows. But Jenny’s Dad and Jimmy’s Mum, sitting next to each other, knew without either needing to say so that it might have been appropriate if, as well as pledging their faith and love for richer, for poorer, for sickness and in health, they had added, “In lateness and in earliness!”