Under his breath he blamed and cursed the soon-to-be married couple equally.
As he reached a signpost saying Wragby he knew he was only a handful of miles away.
Besides, twenty minutes wasn't that late right?
It certainly felt longer, those damned country backroads twisted and turned so much he felt like
he'd been travelling in circles, seeing the same damned hay bales again and again and again.
Still he'd managed to turn into the right road and the church tower was just about in sight.
It looked nothing like the online photo, the outer buildings were in ruins.
There were supposed to be a series of smaller guest houses outside of the graveyard but all that
he could see were brick walls, the occasional piece of furniture overturned and grass covered.
The car park was just as bad - it was more like a junkyard, so many rusty cars.
He had no idea why his sister choice this dump but at least he wasn't too late, he could hear them.
They were in the middle of a hymn and according to the details she'd emailed the family this one
was one of the starting ones, something to warm-up the atmosphere she said.
Creeping in through the moss-coated front doors he slunk into a back seat next to a possible relative.
He did a double take as he glanced right, the old lady beside him was practically skeletal.
Veins protruded along her body so fiercely he swore her skin would split at any moment.
Cautiously looking around he saw that everyone was old, was he even at the right wedding?
Even the bride looked to be in her seventies at least, something about her was familiar.
It took a few minutes but he realised it was the dress, the exact same one his sister had picked.
And a hat in the front row was the same as his mother's.
And a greyer version of his cousin's neon pixie cut.
He was at the right wedding, he'd just arrived late... so very late.
At least they waited for him all these years.
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