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Emma’s Wedding

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2019
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‘Who was that, Emma?’ Her mother looked hopeful. ‘Someone you have met taking you out for lunch?’

‘A picnic. Mrs Wibeke Wolff with three children; we’re having a picnic lunch at South Sands tomorrow.’

‘Oh, well, I suppose it’s a change for you. I shall be out in the afternoon; I’ll make a sandwich or something for my lunch.’

Emma took this remark for what it was worth. Her mother had no intention of doing any such thing. She said cheerfully, ‘I’ll leave lunch all ready for you, Mother, and cook supper after we’ve been to church. Unless you want to go to Matins?’

‘You know I need my rest in the morning. Just bring me a cup of tea and I’ll manage my own breakfast.’

‘If you want to,’ said Emma briskly. ‘There’ll be breakfast as usual in the morning, but if you would rather get up later and cook something?’

‘No, no, I’ll come down in my dressing gown. I don’t have much strength in the morning, but then of course I have always been delicate.’

Emma, her head full of the morrow’s picnic, wasn’t listening.

Sunday was another glorious morning. Emma got into a cotton dress and sandals, found a straw hat and a swimsuit, got breakfast for her gently complaining parent and made her way through the still quiet streets to the holiday cottages.


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