Necessary as Blood

the way you‘ve always done — the way you‘ve looked after all of us — but it‘s not... I don‘t think it‘s helping him. If you put him in charge, let him care for you, then maybe he wouldn‘t feel quite so... so helpless.‘
    ‘So who died and made you a psychologist?‘ Vi asked, with a hint of her usual asperity, but then she squeezed Gemma‘s hand and smiled.
    ‘Hazel would probably report me,‘ Gemma admitted ruefully. ‘Mum, I didn‘t mean to—‘
    ‘No, no, I suspect you‘re right.‘ Vi sighed. ‘It‘s just that he‘s so frightened, and I can‘t imagine how he would manage if I, well‘ — she lowered her voice, as if admitting to a dark secret — ‘if I was gone. But I suppose learning to look after me would be a start.‘ Frowning, she added, ‘Did Cyn tell you that neither of you were donor matches?‘
    ‘Yes.‘ Gemma didn‘t mention that it was Duncan whom her sister had told. ‘But surely, there‘s an international database for donors, isn‘t there?‘
    ‘They‘ve put me on the list. But they said the chance of a match was only one in ten thousand...‘ 7fen thousand? Gemma struggled to conceal her shock, then said with as much conviction as she could muster, ‘You‘re not going to need a donor match. You just need to rest, and to let the treatments do their job.‘
    ‘Right.‘ Vi sat up a bit straighter, as if Gemma‘s pep talk had encouraged her. ‘I‘d better be fit in time for your wedding. And you had better choose the venue so that you can set a date. You said you were going to find something this week.‘
    ‘Well, I...‘ Gemma felt the telltale colour rise in her face — she‘d never been able to get away with anything as a child.
    ‘You haven‘t looked, have you?‘ Her mother‘s teasing tone did not quite disguise her disappointment.
    Scrambling, Gemma told an outright lie. ‘I have, honestly, Mum. I‘ve narrowed it down.‘
    ‘Tell me about them, then.‘ Vi settled herself a little more comfortably, her expression expectant.
    ‘Oh...‘ Gemma tried to remember some of the places she had rejected out of hand as too big, too expensive, too pretentiously posh or just plain silly. ‘Well, there‘s the London Eye, but I‘m not very good with heights. Or HMS Belfast. Or the London Aquarium. Or, um, Fulham Palace.‘
    Vi‘s eyes had widened. ‘You can get married on the London Eye? Sounds very impractical to me.‘
    ‘You can get married in Westminster Abbey if you want — a civil wedding, that is. You can even get married in the changing rooms of Tottenham Hotspur. Or at the London Dungeon.‘
    ‘Why on earth would anyone want to be married there?‘ Vi gave a shudder.
    ‘Thrills and chills.‘ Gemma couldn‘t help grinning. ‘The boys would love it.‘
    ‘But you wouldn‘t. Nor Duncan, I dare say.‘
    ‘No.‘ Gemma looked away. She had left out the stultifyingly boring reception rooms in generic hotels and restaurants. All the prospects had depressed her. She just couldn‘t get her mind round the thought of being married in a place that meant nothing to either of them, and by a person neither of them knew.
    ‘You won‘t consider a church wedding?‘ Vi asked softly. ‘Even, you know, Church of England? I‘m sure Duncan‘s family would like that.‘
    ‘Yes, I suppose they would. It would have to be St John‘s, though, our parish church, and we don‘t know the rector. Winnie—‘ She didn‘t want to voice her fears about Winnie. ‘And I don‘t feel quite right about using our parish church for hatch, match and dispatch,‘ she amended. ‘It just seems a bit callous, somehow.‘
    ‘And it seems to me you have far too many scruples,‘ said Vi, a little tartly. ‘Gemma, you‘re not — you‘re not getting cold feet?‘
    ‘No, of course not, Mum.‘ She wasn‘t about to admit it was the second time she‘d been asked that in as many days. ‘I just want — I just want everything to be right.‘
    Vi seemed to shrink a little, as if suddenly tired. ‘Well, I hope it doesn‘t take you as long to make up your mind about this as it took you to decide you wanted to marry Duncan.‘ She took Gemma‘s hand again. ‘You couldn‘t do better, love. And I do want to see you married.‘
    ‘Mum! Don‘t talk like that — it‘s not like you at all—‘ Her phone chirped, making her jump. She‘d forgotten to turn it off. Grabbing it from her bag, she glanced at the caller ID as she pressed ‘Ignore‘. It was a London