So I’ve been married 23 years, but here I was getting married – to the same person – again. We slept with a bunch of friends in the coach house. The next day, the first indication that a ceremony was in the offing were the portions of smoked salmon scattered across the lawn. I was upset that LW and the M family from France couldn’t make the celebrations, and it was a quite a struggle to eke out a conversation in French when the Ms rang to congratulate us. My groom could be found in bathrooms all over the house preening in the mirror, but I was more interested in talking to the boy with beautiful eyes. I think that this could have been PS from Birmingham University days.