Tell Them I'll Be There (31 page)

‘He sure looks like a Dolan,' Nathan said.

Annie laughed. ‘We'll take that as a compliment.'

They would be staying in New York for a while, Michael said, maybe take an apartment. There was no urgency about a honeymoon, he added with a smile. It was not as if they were just getting to know each other. Anyway, he said, Tim was back to assist Father Pat. Everything was set including the reception.

Dan had planned to book a banquet room at the Waldorf but Tim wanted them to have the reception in the church hall and Michael and Annie had already said yes.

The church was full, standing room only, as if most of the parish had been invited. Father Pat and Tim were robed and ready at the altar, the organist playing softly in anticipation of the big moment when the bride appeared.

The previous night Michael had stayed at Dan's apartment. Now, when they arrived in Dan's roadster, they were met by Nathan who was intent on marshalling ushers. He had been discreetly drumming up advance publicity for the return of Michael Dolan and fans who remembered Michael from his previous incarnation had turned up to watch his arrival.

Nathan was looking at Dan curiously.

Dan raised his eyebrows.

‘Just be prepared,' Nathan said.

Prepared for what? he wanted to ask but Michael needed help. He was surrounded by well-wishers and he was having trouble extricating himself. Nathan urged Dan to get him into church.

Michael and Dan, bridegroom and best man, were standing at the altar when the organist hit the chords to announce the arrival of the bride. Dan glanced over his shoulder. Dressed in the white she wanted, Annie was on her father's arm. A single bridesmaid, tall, slim with a tumble of black curls was close behind her. 

It was only when the vows were made and Michael and Annie moved to the vestry that Dan came face to face with the one bridesmaid and her thick black hair and her dark laughing eyes. At first glance he had guessed she was Italian, like Annie, but now he was sure she was Irish.

‘Hello, Dan,' she said.

He looked at her for a long moment. It was yet another big surprise, for Dan the biggest surprise of all. He couldn't take his eyes off her. ‘Caitlin?'

She laughed, took his arm, steered him towards the vestry. ‘Aren't we supposed to sign something?'

‘You look lovely,' he said. ‘Beautiful.' Then: ‘Why didn't you tell me you were coming?'

‘It was Tim and Michael. They wanted to surprise you.'

He couldn't speak. She was that lost little girl on the dock in Liverpool. And now she was this young woman. This lovely young woman. Tim was watching, smiling.

‘I'll deal with you later,' Dan told him, and he turned back to Caitlin. ‘It's not the fourth of July.'

‘You remembered,' she said.

‘I remember everything,' he told her.

They were outside now. A photographer, his head bobbing out from under a black cloth and back again, was marshalling people into groups, waving others aside.

‘How long are you here?' Dan asked as they stood hand in hand and other guests milled around them.

‘Depends,' Caitlin said. ‘My folks go home early tomorrow.'

‘Well, you can't,' he said decisively. ‘We have to have
afternoon
tea at the Plaza.'

She laughed. ‘Then we have to cross the road, see if we can spot the diamonds in the fountain.'

‘So we do,' he said.

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