The Bentley

My daughter is charmingly innocent... makes us laugh. The wedding car would need to drive up the yew-lined path to the church door at the top of the hill. Walking up the hill would leave her exhausted and unready to march up the aisle with me to Mendelssohn.

The wedding car would be large; four and a half litres and two tons of vintage classic owned and driven by a chum of mine.

"Do you often get Bentleys driving up to the church door?" she asked.

"Not often." the Bishop replied.

Bishop, Bentley... she expected nothing but the best.