Poppy Jenkins

by Clare Ashton

And for those who ponder such things, Rosalyn and Poppy did have their wedding. What was meant to be a small affair, a private little ceremony in the castle, expanded to include much of the village out of genuine love for this most popular of couples. A grand picnic followed on the castle grounds, with sparkling wines and a generous spread, on the sunniest day of the year. Their children came after, every other year: a tall, fiercely intelligent girl, highly protective of her good-natured younger sister, and two strapping boys, with the stature of the donor and the good looks of their carpenter grandfather. Two sets of grandparents, a great-grandparent and doting aunt Pip were overjoyed with their growing family. One grey cloud, early in the years that followed, was the passing of Mr Morgan Morgan. His wife, Eleanor, was in mourning for a week, but then took on a sunnier disposition. She was one of the most elated and moved by Poppy and Rosalyn’s wedding. She sat at the front, snug next to Cerys Mathews, wearing every colour of the rainbow.

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