None of the other girls had been able to attend the simple wedding service, and young Cal March – who, during his apprenticeship, had come to idolize Alec – was the only member of the flying fraternity to occupy a pew. Marion’s parents were frosty to their new son-in-law even after the long courtship: it was a marriage well beneath their standards and Alec had no land save his primitive cottage in the hills beyond Forfar, his parents having died penniless. Outside the church, good wishes were given all around with polite detachment, and the newlyweds, with Cal tagging along, jumped into Marion’s car, their destination Hatfield. As he started the engine, Alec noticed Sir Guy Wickham glowering at the daughter he had lost. Sir Guy strode to Alec’s open window and bent down. ‘Is it customary to take someone else’s child on one’s honeymoon?’ he whispered. ‘Honeymoon!’ Alec guffawed. Good Gillingham heads turned. ‘We’re going straight back to work – all three of us.
