Trace of Innocence | Sweet and Sour (Book 4)

Bonus Chapter 2

(No Control | Holding Me Ransom - Just Two Hearts In One Home)

June 2019

"Ladies and Gentlemen, first of all I want to welcome you today, to this celebration, and for spending our special day with us. Me and my wife - no, wait - my wife and I are so pleased you could make it... 

"OK this is shit. Get a grip, Harry. Start again. 

"I'd just like to start by thanking everyone here for joining us today. I know some of you have come from far and wide to be here with us and it makes me so happy and proud to see so many people that I love here in the same room, to celebrate mine and my wife's special day - nope - to celebrate my wife and I's - no for fuck's sake that's worse. To celebrate mine and Jess's day - oh fucking hell why doesn't this sound right?!

"OK. OK. Deep breath, focus. Ladies and gentlemen, thank you for... oh fucking hell. This sounds shit. I sound shit. Why do I sound so shit?!"

"Because you are shit?" comes my sister's voice from just outside the open door, and I visibly start, the jerk of my hand causing a random line on the piece of paper in front of me.

"Jesus Christ, Gemma, why are you sneaking around?" I demand, looking up as she peers round the door grinning. 

"I wasn't sneaking around, dear brother, I was minding my own business writing an article and heard you start talking to yourself, or rather, some invisible audience, in the next room and wondered if you'd finally lost the plot."

"Ha-ha," I mutter sarcastically.

"So what are you doing?" Gemma asks curiously, leaning against the doorframe and folding her arms.

"Trying my first draft of my groom's speech," I admit. "But it's not going so well. I've been thinking about it in my head for weeks and thought I need to start getting something written down so I can practise it, but it just won't come."

"You're a songwriter aren't you?" Gemma points out. "What would you say if you were singing to her?" 

"Been there, done that," I smile, my mind flicking over the numerous songs, and lines wihtin songs, that are dedicated to my beautiful wife-to-be. "But this is different. Songwriting is easy compared to this. With songwriting you can start anywhere and build around it."

"So do the same thing," Gemma shrugs. "Make a note of the things you want to say and write sections at a time, then put it all together at the end." 

I'm not convinced. "Maybe." 

"Trust me," she says. "I'm a writer too. You just need to come at it from the right angle and it'll soon flow." 

She stands against the doorframe observing me while I ponder for a moment, before I frown at her. "Why are you still watching me?" 

"It's like watching one of the those nature programmes with David Attenborough," she muses, before assuming a rather impressive impersonation of David Attenborough's voice: "This unusual mammal with questionable hair, embarrassing fashion sense and a tendency to ramble incoherently to himself can be found pacing up and down his own territory to prepare himself for an episode of public speaking, not unlike the previous nine years of his life on centre stage... oi!"

A copy of GQ magazine has hit her squarely in the face thanks to my impeccable aim with my left hand and she retreats, her laughter ringing out all the way along the hall. 

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July 2019 

The sharp tap at the door interrupts the collective laughter from the group of men standing in the front of the enormous bay window. While Jeff adjusts my tie, Jess's brother Calvin hurries to open it, and lets my rather emotional mum into the hotel room, quickly shutting the door behind her. Her eyes are already filled with tears as she walks slowly over to me, beaming with pride, her arms open.