Blues Fusion

What was planned as a 'small private service in the old stone church on South Head' turned into a farce following the leaking of the venue to the tabloids which was subsequently picked up by the glossies. The road leading up to the church was jammed with spectators and a police escort had to be provided when the bridal party approached. Dad and I sat self-consciously in the back of the gleaming black Daimler 420 limousine which fortunately had limo-tint windows, otherwise we would have been blinded by the flashes.

The barrage of flashes reached a crescendo when I got out of the car for the short walk to the entrance of the church. It was a simple dress that was designed to highlight my best features, I didn't have Pippa Middleton's arse so that was hidden by the train, but it drew appreciative gasps from those close enough to see it. Dad looked great in his tux and extremely proud of me as he took my hand and draped it over his arm and we stepped into the church.

If I thought that the wedding was a farce then the reception on a large private yacht in the harbour proved to be an even bigger farce. Hundreds of boats milled around and helicopters jostled for position in the hope of getting the money shot. At some time during the evening the band that had been playing in the background seemed to disappear and Mike, Leon and Simon appeared to take their place. The MC called for quiet. "Ladies and gentlemen, can I have your attention please. Would you all put your hands together and encourage the new Mrs Fiona Cregan to join Blues Fusion for one last performance. Ladies and gentlemen, I give you Blues Fusion!"

So there I was in my wedding finery in front of the band singing for one last time 'Don't Leave Me Now'.