Being the father of the bride has matured me – as I discovered in the nightclub afterwards

So the wedding of my little girl to Andy Bancroft Cooke went off without a hitch, a wonderful ceremony in a beautiful Catholic church off Manchester Square, and even the weather played ball and gave us the most perfect spring day imaginable, cloudless and cool. Green Park was at its most glorious as we drank outdoors on the long terrace and lunched in Spencer House, which pulled out all the stops.

It’s hard to believe but as I was leaving the church, having performed my duties as father of the bride, a Speccie reader approached me and asked if I had walked her down or had been walked down by her. Obviously a loyal reader and one much appreciated. What touched me besides the obvious was Father Colven, who is the rector of St James’s Spanish Place. He spoke about doubt in such an intelligent manner that everyone who had listened would have connected with his message.