From Beginning to End

The Proposal

‘Yes…yes I will!’, said Lizzie. She’d never forget this day, this proposal, on top of a hill overlooking the town that she loved. The wind almost blew the tiny jewellery box out of her boyfriend’s…fiancé’s…hand. A simple solitaire, exactly what she would have chosen. It had only been a year, but he knew her so well. ‘Let’s not wait,’ said Rick. ‘Let’s get married this Christmas.’ Lizzie hesitated. That would only give them six months. It would be freezing in December, raining perhaps, but then again, this far north, the same could be said for summer. 

‘Ok, why not? I love Christmas. It might even snow,’ she said. 

‘So you approve of the idea of a winter wedding then?’, he said. 

‘Yes,’ she said, throwing her arms around him. ‘I think I do’. 

The Venue

The small country house was beautiful, nestled in the moors and surrounded by wild and rugged terrain. 

Lizzie had gasped when she’d seen the function room that would accommodate their sixty guests. With its high ceilings and dark wooden floors, it was intimate and cosy, yet the wooden Georgian doors and windows gave a view of a lawn that looked like it went on forever.

‘Apparently they suspend Christmas trees from the ceiling in the winter,’ said Rick. ‘It’ll be like getting married in Narnia!’ 

‘So we can definitely have it then?,’ asked Lizzie. 

‘Yeah, we’ve been really lucky that they had a cancellation,’ Rick said. ‘Otherwise it’s booked up for the next three years.’ 

‘Do people really plan their weddings that far ahead?,’ asked Lizzie. ‘I’d be worried that I’d go off the idea.’ 

‘Thanks Lizzie!,’ said Rick, throwing his head back and laughing. ‘You do know most people intend to stay married for life, right? Three years is just a drop in the ocean.’

‘I suppose it is,’ she said, walking round the eight circular tables that were set up for a wedding that coming weekend. 

‘The tables look nice,’ she said. ‘Shall we just go for the same thing but with red roses rather than white?’

‘Don’t you want to think about it for a bit? Chat about it with your chief bridesmaid to make sure it fits in with your colour scheme?’

‘Sadie’s my only bridesmaid!,’ said Lizzie, not realising her husband-to-be had his finger on the pulse as far as colour co-ordination was concerned. ‘And no, not really. Besides, we have to make a quick decision.’ 

‘But are you sure you like it?’, he said, wrapping his arms around her waist.

‘’Yes,’ she said nodding. ‘Yes. I think I do.’

The Cake

‘Chocolate fudge cake,’ said Lizzie. 

‘Fruit cake,’ said Rick. ‘With marzipan and royal icing.’

They’d gone round in circles on this one. 

‘How can we cut a chocolate cake? What if it melts?’, argued Rick. ‘Besides, people expect proper wedding cake. My Auntie Janice will freak out if we serve up chocolate fudge.’

They were sitting in their favourite teashop in town as rain battered against the windows. ‘It’s not your Auntie Janice’s wedding though, is it?,’ said Lizzie. She couldn’t escape the feeling that the wedding arrangements were becoming more about what would please other people. They’d already had guests asking for alternative meals than the ones they’d proposed. And Rick was such a people-pleaser. 

‘I just want everyone to be happy,’ he said, ‘so we have no stress on the day. And anyway, we can freeze the top tier of cake and keep it for the Christening of our first child. That’s the tradition, so my mum said.’

Lizzie gulped down the last of her tea. This wasn’t a hill she was prepared to die on.

‘Ok, fruit cake it is then. I really don’t mind that much.’

Rick whipped out his phone and searched out some images on the internet. ‘We can have a really modern design,’ he said. ‘Like this one here.’ 

It did look beautiful, with its slim, towering tiers and it’s minimal decoration. 

‘See,’ he said, pointing at her. ‘You like it, I can tell!’

‘Yes,’ said Lizzie, smiling at his enthusiasm, ‘I think I do.’ 

The Dress

‘I can’t believe you’re getting married in a month!,’ said Sadie, chinking her wine glass against Lizzie’s. ‘It only seems two minutes since you and Rick met.’

It had passed in a whirlwind when Lizzie thought about it. Her feet had barely touched the ground since. 

‘Anyway,’ said Sadie, ‘drink up. Apart from the very important business of finding my bridesmaid’s dress, we’ve got to get your dress too!’

Lizzie hadn’t seen her best friend this giddy in ages. Sadie had always been a hopeless romantic though, and she was throwing herself into Lizzie’s wedding with the same passion she had for her own. 

‘Before we head off, Sadie, can I just say a big thank you? For helping me with the invitations, the menus, the flowers…and the dress. I might not get a chance to tell you on the day. You’ve been the most amazing bridesmaid.’ 

Sadie gave her friend a hug, then wiped away a tear. ‘I’m just glad you’ve found someone like Rick. He worships the ground you walk on. Now come on, I want to save the crying for when you find the perfect dress!’

And that dress was in the second shop. The three dresses Lizzie had tried on in the first shop on had felt wrong. Too clingy, too low at the front, too fussy… She’d almost given up hope. But as she walked out of the fitting room, she knew this was the right choice. 

‘That is beautiful!,’ gasped Sadie. ‘Quick, do a twirl!’

Lizzie turned round and round then stood in front of the mirror as the shop assistant pinned  the fabric here and there to make it fit. She hardly recognised the person staring back at her. It was like she was playing at dressing up. 

‘I’m going to go for this one. It’s the only one I’ve liked so far,’ said Lizzie. 

‘We can always try the other shop if you’re not sure,’ said Sadie. 

Lizzie turned from side to side, examining herself from every angle. The dress definitely flattered her. ‘It’s not the kind of style I imagined myself wearing,’ she said. ‘But the ones I liked on the coat hanger didn’t suit me at all.’ 

She fought off the wave of disappointment that was threatening to engulf her. Of all the aspects of arranging her wedding, this was the one Lizzie thought she’d love. But it wasn’t a film, was it? This was real-life, and she lived in a town with three wedding shops, and time was against her.

Sadie interrupted her train of thought. 

‘So the question is, do you feel beautiful in it?’

Lizzie looked in the mirror again. The woman staring back at her, now with a veil clipped to her hair, did look beautiful. 

‘Yes, I think I do,’ she said.

The Wedding



Walking down the aisle gripping her dad’s arm was the longest walk of Lizzie’s life. Ever since she was little, she’d always hated being the centre of attention. Glad of the veil that was obscuring her eyes, she found herself dreaming about being at home in her pyjamas, rather than having to face this long day in the spotlight. Then she questioned why she was thinking like this. At that moment she looked up and saw Rick, soon to be her husband, beaming with happiness just a few metres away. 

How handsome he was in his navy suit, with his blond hair flopping over his eyes. He was shy all of a sudden, and when he flicked his hair back she saw tears. He was without doubt the kindest, most generous, warmest person she’d ever met. And he loved her, she knew that. Of course, she loved him too. It was normal to feel nervous when she was on the brink of the rest of her life.

She glanced left and right as she made her way towards him, taking in the expectant faces of all the people that meant so much to her. 

‘Do you, Rick, take Lizzie to be your lawfully wedded wife…’ 

The priest’s voice sounded far away, and through the fog in her mind Lizzie heard Rick say ‘I do,’ then he squeezed her hand.

‘Do you, Lizzie, take Rick…’

Her heart was thumping so hard she was afraid Rick would see, and she was overwhelmed at how many thoughts came cascading through her mind in those seconds. Did she take him? In sickness and in health, for better for worse, for all those things that she might not yet know about him? Could she base a lifetime on the eighteen months they’d been a couple? Till death do us part? 

She tried to swallow but her mouth was dry. Rick squeezed her hand again and the vicar cleared his throat. 

‘Do you, then, Lizzie?,’ asked Rick, half-smiling.  She saw the confusion in his brown eyes and felt her heart break. She pulled her hand away from his.

‘I…I…,’ she stammered. Then she looked directly at him, shaking her head as a low groan rippled through the congregation. ‘No, I’m so sorry. Rick. I don’t think I do.’