Caxton Hall Register Office
The Connaught Hotel
London, February 11, 1965
Cynthia*
When the ceremony had finished, John abruptly let go of her hand and quickly stood up. “Right. Well, we’d better move quickly before people figure out where we’re off to.” He glanced down to her, “Are you coming?”
“Where?” All the time that they had spent apart seemed to have slipped away almost instantly. They had laughed together, held hands throughout the entire ceremony, linked secretly between their chairs. She wondered where he wanted to go. Did he want her back?
“The reception at the Connaught.” John’s impatient reply brought her back to reality.
“Of course, the Connaught.” She immediately felt her cheeks become hot. Hoping he hadn’t noticed, she turned away to pick up her purse. “Yes. I’m going. I just need to get my suitcase. I left it at reception.”
“Suitcase?”
She stood up and followed him as he began to walk down the row of seats toward the exit .”I decided to check in there for the night. Andrew invited a few of his colleagues to work on the case at our flat…so I decided I would leave them to it in peace. They’ll be there all night so - “
He turned around to look at her and cut her off, shaking his head. “Christ Cyn, you’re too nice for your own good y’know. Don’t stay at a hotel on your own. Just come back with me to Surrey after the party. My driver will give you a lift back to your flat in the morning.”
“Oh John I couldn’t…that’s very kind of you but—”
He began walking again. “You’re staying with me. It’s too bloody big for just one person anyway. I moved in last summer and still don’t know my way around. You’ll have your own room and plenty of space. My housekeeper Dot will sort you out.”
Between John’s mood swings, tantrums and drunken rants throughout their years together, he was far from the perfect man but for the most part, though he would never admit it, he could be quite chivalrous. She smiled at his refusal to let her be alone for the night. “Alright, well, thank you. I do appreciate it…”
“OK, enough of the formalities. Where’s this suitcase then? I’ll get Les to sort it out and dump it in the boot.”
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When the car pulled up to the Connaught Hotel it immediatebly became clear that Brian had done an impeccable job of keeping the press away. It almost appeared as if no one really knew that this was where the wedding party was headed.
The Connaught was a London staple, located right in the heart of Mayfair. Full of English charm, discreet ambiance and understated glamour, it was the perfect choice. The 19th century building was both luxurious and romantic, and it wouldn’t have felt right to be there without anyone but John. She, John, George and Brian began to make their way into the room where the private party was being held.
“Cyn!” Maureen rushed over to say a quick hello while the men went to speak to Rich. She looked beautiful, dressed in two piece cream colored suit with her black hair pulled back into a tight bun and matching heels. She was glowing. “You alright then? I was so nervous! Do you think it was obvious? Ritchie looked happy didn’t he?”
”Yes!” She laughed. “You were perfect, both of you. It couldn’t have gone better and you look absolutely stunning.”
“Ta, love” Maureen gave her a quick kiss on the cheek. “I better be off. Rich’s mum is driving me mad!” She paused and leaned in whispering quietly to her friend, “Everything OK between you and John then?”
