Page 37 of The Scottish Island Wedding

‘Thank you, Mr Balhennie,’ Matty replied politely.

‘Angus. I’ve told you,’ Angus corrected him, smiling paternally.

‘Angus. Thank you.’ Matty raised his glass to the table. ‘Thank you to all of you for being so lovely, especially bearing in mind that my family are… not the easiest. I appreciate your patience and kindness, really I do.’ He looked around the table. ‘And it’s so great to finally meet all of Heather’s sisters. I can’t wait to get to know all of you.’

‘Just making sure there’s nothing else you wanted to tell us?’ Violet called out; Heather made a face at her twin. ‘What? Just saying.’

‘No, there’s nothing else.’ Matty smiled, stoically. ‘And that’s completely fair.’

‘Hm. Well, marriage isnae easy, lad. You might know that, an’ you might not. You’ve got tae talk tae each other. Be there in times o’ trouble. Love each other even when the bairns are up all night, even when loved ones die, when there’s no’ much food in the cupboard,’ Angus said, looking mistily at Catriona. ‘The good lord knows that we’ve had our ups an’ downs, haven’t we, hen?’

Catriona nodded, and reached for her husband’s hand.

‘That we have,’ she said. ‘But we got through all of it.’

‘Aye. An’ I couldnae be prouder o’ all the Balhennies. All my girls.’ Angus wiped a tear from his eye. ‘Matt, I wish you an’ Heather all the love an’ luck in the world. She’s the kindest, sweetest girl I think I’ve ever had the pleasure o’ knowin’. An’ I want tae let you know that if you ever hurt her, you’re in for a world o’ sufferin’. The Princesses o’ Balhennie are not to be messed with.’ Angus levelled his soon-to-be son-in-law with a serious stare. ‘It’s no’ even me you have tae worry aboot.’

‘Oh, Dad. Don’t.’ Heather blushed. ‘You’re embarrassing me.’

‘I am not. It’s just what a father should say,’ Angus remonstrated gently. ‘Still, I’ll say no more. Let’s have a toast, an’ then we can get on wi’ dinner before it gets cold, aye.’

‘To the newlyweds!’ Bluebell called out.

‘To the young lovers!’ Aunt Chrissie added.

‘To youth, hope and the future!’ Tam held up his glass.

‘Slàinte Mhath.’ Everyone raised their glasses and clinked them with their neighbour’s, using the traditional Gaelic toast.

‘So, Aunt Chrissie…’ Primrose turned to her great-aunt as everyone began to eat and chatter. ‘How are you feeling about the newspaper article now?’

‘Oh, my. Yes. It’s been rather difficult.’ Aunt Chrissie put down her fork and sighed. ‘But I’m soldiering on. Joan keeps telling me that today’s news is tomorrow’s chip paper, and I’m trying to see it that way, even though it was all rather… exposing. It’s meant the world to have you girls around to support me, too.’ Aunt Chrissie beamed at Primrose and the rest of the Balhennie sisters.

‘Auntie, we have to ask,’ Violet interjected. ‘How did you become a Page Three Girl? We’re dying to know.’

‘Oh, dear. Really?’ Chrissie let out a long sigh. ‘Surely there’s more in life than your antique auntie posing for photographs in newspapers.’

‘Yes! Of course we want to know,’ Blossom chuckled. ‘We’ve all been very polite and held back because we knew you were upset about it – which we understand, by the way. But I know I’d love to hear the story.’

‘So would I.’ Primrose held up her hand. Everyone around the table followed suit, apart from Aunt Joan.

‘I already know.’ She shrugged.

‘Respectfully, of course,’ Heather added. ‘If you want to tell us, we’d love to hear your story, Auntie.’

‘Well… I suppose I can tell you, as you’re family.’ Chrissie smiled, shyly.

‘You’ve got my album somewhere, haven’t you, dear? Can I have it?’ She looked at Catriona.

‘Um, yes… let me see. Wait a minute.’ Catriona got up and went to the large wooden dresser on the opposite side of the kitchen. She opened one of the cupboards at the bottom, reached in and drew out a photo album.

‘This one?’ Catriona held up a wine-coloured old-fashioned photo album with cellophane-covered pages inside. The spine was faded; at some point in its life it had clearly sat on a shelf in the sunshine.

‘That’s the one, dear. Bring it over.’ Chrissie rolled up the sleeves of her cardigan. ‘There it is. Goodness, I haven’t looked at this for a long time.’

Catriona handed her aunt the album.

‘Now. What I’m about to show you is a little shocking. Or, at least, it was, once upon a time. Perhaps it isn’t now.’