The Last King Of Scotland (1998) (1998) - Plot & Excerpts
Wife number four. I attended the ceremony at the cathedral. It was packed, not to mention the thousands cheering themselves hoarse outside. It had been announced that he was also having a Moslem ceremony – “I love all the religions in Uganda,” he’d said on the radio – but I wasn’t invited to that. The Christian one was a strange affair, not least because the ushers were high-ranking army officers, except for Wasswa, who was best man. I took up my seat at the back on the right, along with the other expatriates – among whom, I was embarrassed to see, were Marina and her husband, and Stone as well. Nearer to me, half-obscured by a pillar, was Swanepoel. The cathedral was very big and grand, and I concentrated on its high pink-and-blue-painted ceiling while the organ was playing before the bride came in. I tried not to look at Marina. It was now over a year since my gaffe, but I still smarted – though it wasn’t much, really. I hadn’t done anything that offensive.
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