November 23rd 1979

We deliberately made it a low key affair. My parents drove over from Lancashire and my sister arrived from the States. One of my sons and his girl friend came and one of MTL’s children with her husband; it took some of them a little longer to come to terms with our getting married. It was chilly but bright and as we left the house I nearly lost my nerve - all the stress of the last few months caught up with me and someone took a photo of the bride to be - head down, being coaxed along the path by MTL and my mother.


We drove to the Registry office in Macclesfield and parking was a problem; every time we found a space to back into Dad drove up close behind so we couldn’t reverse. I wasn’t keen on the idea of being married in a Registry Office and when I saw we were to be married by a woman – in a trouser suit my discomfiture was complete.


When we were all assembled in the room I looked at MRL’s white strained face and pulled myself together. I looked at the ones I loved and began to relax and holding tightly onto MTL’s hand gave myself permission to stop worrying about everybody else and concentrate on the two of us – at last – being together as man and wife.


Once the ceremony was over everybody relaxed and there were lots of hugs and a few tears. MTL had persuaded me it would be a good idea to have lunch at home (he’s made up for it since) but everybody helped and by mid afternoon we left them to it and escaped to our favourite Lake District for a few days. We decided however short or long our time together we weren’t going to waste any of it. And I don’t think we have.