My sister got married yesterday.

For the second time. To the same man. The first time round was in the late 60s, they were both nineteen and were perfectly happy for about thirty years. Then they moved to America and it all went wrong. My sister came home and her (by now, ex) husband followed a few years later. Gradually over the following few years, they saw more and more of each other and eventually got back together. Yesterday, in a picturesque registry office in Kent, they said what they’d said in a big Catholic church in Cricklewood all those years ago. Last time the service went on forever but the marriage didn’t. This time it’s the other way round.