And on his way into the one-time church whose unique round tower had been his lifetime landmark he saw only people he was comfortable with, plus a great many strangers: half the population of the island seemed to be massing in the narrow gateway on the steep hill, and a uniformed constable was on old-fashioned point duty in the road when he and Ted Mahy were driven up. Fortunately the good weather was holding, and the constable was cheerful in shirt sleeves. “Nice, sir.’’ Ted nodded towards the people parting willingly to either side of their car as it squeezed on to the tiny forecourt. “It’s amazing.’’ They were all smiling, it seemed, and waving to him, which could have been another reason why he didn’t think of Constance. As he got out of the car he thought about his mother’s hope for the ritual, at least, of a church wedding: he and Ted arriving first and sitting front right of the centre aisle, Anna walking up it to meet them as they moved out to stand beside her.
