Chapter Seventy Six

He should have been sitting beside Leonard. Since he'd given up that place and weddings were really a family affair, he'd answered, 'No. With my mother, if that's possible. Haven't seen her for a while.'

'Done.'

And that had made him feel guilty, too. Leonard would oblige him with anything, and he'd...too late to rue it now. Damn Favour's sister and her power to mess with things that were not related to her. He hoped seeing her again today would put the memory of that one night with her in some reasonable perspective. Get it out of his system.

His mother was always good company. She would claim his attention.

Now there was one woman he did genuinely love. She'd always stuck up for him against his father who'd relentlessly put him down, jeering over his interest in computer graphics, saying he was wasting his time and would never amount to anything. Too bad he'd died when Collins was only twenty. Though he'd probably even deride what his son had achieved if he was still alive.

Collins didn't grieve over the loss of his father, though he would have liked the chance to shove his success down the old man's throat.

Domineering narrow-minded bastard! Why his mother had stayed in that marriage all those years was beyond his understanding. He'd watched his father crush the joy out of her countless times, though she'd stubbornly clung to what she believed in, opposing him when it was important to her.

Thirteen years she'd been widowed now, and showed no inclination to look for another husband. It was probably a relief to be absolutely free to do as she liked and not have to justify or account to anyone for what she did. She filled her life with things she enjoyed; running the arts and crafts gallery at Dora Creek, playing bridge with Leonard's mum twice a week, still doing her own pottery. She was a lovely person with a large circle of friends and she'd always insisted to Collins that she wasn't lonely.

'Follow your star wherever it takes you,' she'd told him many times.

'Fulfilling what you most want to do is what gives your life meaning. Go for it, Collins. Don't let anyone stop you.' He hadn't.

But his focus on what he was going for had been knocked slightly awry by Jasmine Leclaire and he intended to correct that today. It was absurd that one night with her still had the capacity to tie him in knots. He had to get this...aberration...straightened out. No way was he ready to get tied up with any woman.

The taxi was emerging from the harbour tunnel. Collins checked his watch again. Ten minutes left to get there. He'd probably arrive at the same time as the bride. Which would mean seeing Jasmine as Favour's bridesmaid. He fell his nerves tightening and willed them to relax.

She wouldn't stun him a second time.

He knew what she looked like. A nod of acknowledgment or a wave as he headed into the church would get him by. More than likely, he'd find she didn't match up to the memory and this whole thing about her would fade into insignificance.

They'd shared a great night, but that was all it was... one great night.

He dismissed it from his mind, determined to concentrate on Leonard and Favour. He hoped they'd have a good marriage and the children they both wanted. Maybe that had been part of the problem with his parents, his mother only able to have one child and Collins hadn't been the kind of son his father had wanted...no interest in going into boat-building or taking up a useful trade. If there'd been other sons...

Though Leonard had been an only son, too, and his father had been happy to let him go his own way. Maybe having two daughters, as well, had softened him. Collins had always liked going to the Leonard's home. No-one there had ever criticised his and Leonard's absorption in computer games.

Leonard had loved the challenge of winning. Collins had been fascinated by the graphics, wanting to know how they were done and how they could be done better. They were good limes.

'Church coming up,' the cabbie informed him.

'And from the look of the three highly polished vintage cars ahead of us, the bridal party is just arriving.' Collins smiled at the choice of cars—bound to be Leonard's idea. His first car had been an old rattletrap MG which he'd insisted was a classic. Collins had bought his first motorbike—secondhand—at about the same time.

Lots of shared memories with Leonard, and today would be another one, as it should be.

The vintage ears pulled into a driveway by the side of the church and came to a processional halt. The chauffeurs were hopping out to open the back doors for their passengers as the taxi passed by and pulled inat the street kerb adjacent to the gate which was the public entrance to the churchyard. Collins quickly paid over the fare, adding a generous tip to thank the cabbie for the timely arrival.

He was out of the taxi and at the gate when a man emerged from the lead car, his age and the flower in the lapel of his black suitcoat marking him as Favour's father.

Movement at the opened door of the second car caught his eye. He deliberately kept heading for the vestibule of the church, trying to crush the urge to look. This was Leonard's day. Jasmine Leclaire was a side issue.

'Wait for me to help. Dad.' The seductive lilt of her voice tempted him.

'Now, Jasmine, I'm the father of the bride. Don't do me out of my job.'

She laughed.

That did it.

He stopped and looked.

She'd taken a couple of steps towards the lead car and was swinging towards him, looking at the ground to be covered from the bride's car to the church. Her head jerked in shock at her first sight of him.

Disbelief chased across her face.

Now was the time to nod or wave and move right on by, Collins told himself. But his body didn't obey that dictate. She stared at him and he stared at her, both of them totally immobile. It was as if they were caught in a time-warp where only they existed, bonded together by memories that were uniquely theirs.