Lena was fastening the last paper leaf when Owen appeared in the doorway with a parcel tucked under his arm.
'You look nice,' he said.
She looked down at herself. She had got changed while Bea was having her hair done, sitting on the sofa to fasten the buckles on her shoes because Tom was resting on the bed. The green dress fitted. She'd managed her hair. Neither thing felt like an achievement.
'Thank you. So do you.'
He wore a navy suit. One cuff had slipped inside his jacket sleeve, and the top button of his shirt was still open.
'I've forgotten how to put myself together,' he said. 'I got dressed, then looked in the mirror and found I'd missed half of it.'
She came down from the chair. It was half past one. Soon the corridor would fill with guests, and they would have to get out of the way.
Owen set the parcel on the top table. He pulled at the tape carefully, trying not to tear the paper beneath it.
'Is that the present?'
'Yes. My friend dropped them at reception. He said he'd be early, then got stuck behind a lorry. I was starting to worry.'
The parcel held two smaller packages. He took one out and lifted the paper. Lena saw a pale wooden cover, not thick, with two little brass hinges holding it to a spine. The grain ran in a fine curve from one corner to the other. He opened it and smoothed the first page.
'It hasn't warped,' he said, with quiet pleasure. 'I kept thinking the glue would pull.'
Bea came into the room behind him.
'It arrived,' she said.
He turned at once. 'Look.'
She had a towel tucked round her shoulders. Someone had left two pins in the fabric so they'd be handy. Lena could see that her hair wasn't finished at the back.
'It's beautiful,' Bea said. She touched the cover with one finger. 'I told you it would be.'
'I've got yours too.'
He gave her the wrapped copy. She took it with both hands.
'We'll open it later,' she said.
'You can look now.'
'I can't. I'm getting dressed.' She glanced at Lena. 'Will you come and help me with the zip?'
'Of course.'
The woman doing Bea's hair came to the doorway. 'If you can just sit for another two minutes, I've nearly finished.'
Bea held the parcel against her chest. 'Lena's coming too.'
'I can come in a minute,' Lena said. 'I'll put the chair away.'
Bea didn't move. The woman waited, holding a comb and a pin, her patience thinning.
'I need you back in the chair,' she said. 'We're running out of time.'
Bea turned, reluctantly. She took her copy into the little bridal room beside the reception room. Through the open door Lena saw her put it on the dressing table beside her bag. The paper stayed on it.
Owen watched until she had gone. 'Do you think she'll like it? Properly?'
'She said she did.'
'I know. It might be a bit much.' He laughed softly. 'I've never made a book before. I could have got her earrings.'
Lena folded the chair and pushed it against the wall with the others.
'She'll keep this.'
His face cleared. He looked along the top table, at the card stands and the flowers laid in low jars.
'I like that you've made things,' he said. 'It's ours. Not just something out of a cupboard.'
'You'd be surprised how much is out of a cupboard.'
He smiled. Then he tried to straighten his cuff and nearly dropped the book.
'Can you hold it a second?'
She took it, open, supporting the spine in her palm. He eased the trapped cuff out of his sleeve. The hinges moved smoothly; the wooden covers weren't heavy. Inside, plain cream pages were fixed in small metal rings. Owen had made room for more pages to be added later.
He was still fiddling with the cuff when Bea reappeared in the doorway.
'Owen. Can you keep that safe upstairs? We don't want anything spilt on it.'
'I'm just showing Lena.'
'We're doing photographs soon.'
'Yes. I know.' He turned his wrist to check the button. 'Nearly ready.'
From the bridal room the hairdresser called, 'Bea, you've got pins sticking out at the back. You can't go like that.'
Bea reached behind her head, found nothing and looked at Lena.
'I'll be in after this,' Lena said.
Bea's hand fell. The towel had slipped on one shoulder. She returned to the room, where the hairdresser said something Lena couldn't hear and shut the door most of the way.
Owen leaned beside Lena and touched the edge of the page.
'I was going to keep it to the early ones,' he said. 'But there are a few more recent bits. Things from when we found the flat. I didn't want it to look as if we'd only talked properly before we met.'
'How did you choose?'
He smiled at the book. 'The ones I kept going back to.'
Lena looked down.