He borrowed twenty quid for the first date. His sister sent a hundred.

Their story

This was a slow burn. Jessica had gone to school with half of a couple, and Ben had gone to uni with the other half, so for years the two of them were at the same nights out and the same flat parties, chatting in passing and never quite connecting. Cupid, as I put it on the day, was simply biding her time. Jessica's pals had a name for him, mind: "Handsome Ben". Fair enough.

One of their early encounters was at the Edinburgh Fringe, just before Jessica started psychiatric nursing. When she told Ben she was a nurse, he said he was about to go into psychiatric nursing himself, and Jessica screwed up her face and said, "God, why do you want to do that?" Ben's first impression: bold, not afraid to speak her mind, and a beautiful smile. He tells me the first part still holds.

The penny finally dropped on a night out in Edinburgh in February 2020. Their first date was at Café Andaluz, and here we meet Ben the romantic. After a run of trips to London and Dublin he had thirty pounds to his name, so he messaged his sister Hannah and asked to borrow twenty. Hannah asked what it was for, and sent him a hundred. He was too feart to ask his mum, who would have had a hundred and one questions. Smart man.

Then the world shut. Ben was working on the wards through Covid, and Jessica became the only person he saw outside work. For twelve weeks they met every Friday and walked the empty streets of Edinburgh, with what felt like the whole city to themselves. He had any number of scenic spots to ask her to be his girlfriend. He asked her in a bathroom. She said yes anyway.

Lockdown did things back to front: they knew each other inside out before either had met the other's people. Jessica fixed that by inviting Ben to a family barbecue to meet all eight of her family at once. Sink or swim. He swam. In April 2024 they bought their first home together, a three-bedroom house with a garage and a loft that they have somehow already filled, mostly, Ben would like it noted, with Jessica's things.

The proposal, on the shore of Loch Lomond

For Ben's birthday, Jessica had booked a boat tour and an overnight stay at Cameron House, for 22 June 2024, with Ben's sister Hannah and her boyfriend Chris. That morning the voucher went missing. Jessica tore the house apart looking for it, and Ben, very unusually, was stressed too. "See," she told him, "even you're stressed." They found it, drove over, arrived early, and went for a walk along the waterfront to a quiet wee cove. Jessica turned round, and Ben was on one knee.

They FaceTimed everyone except Hannah and Chris, who were due any minute. "How do we tell them?" Jessica asked. "Just throw your hand up in the air," said Ben. She did, and the two of them froze like a scene from a film before the hugging started. Then the boat tour, and dinner at Duck Bay. The stressed morning, it turned out, had hidden Ben's nerves beautifully.

The ceremony

A piper played the guests in, a pianist played in the Pavilion, and the wedding party came down the aisle in pairs, with sisters on both sides of the family among the bridesmaids, and a line of wee nieces and nephews as flower girls and page boys. Then Jessica walked in with her dad, with the whole of the Firth of Clyde behind the top table.

I told their story, the orbiting years, the bathroom and the hand in the air, and then we did a handfasting: the first loop for Ben's love for Jessica, the second for Jessica's love for Ben, and the third for everyone in the room. They wrote their own vows, and read them to each other, and I will leave those words where they belong, between the two of them. There was a moment of silence, a loud "We do!" from their families and friends, and their wee nephew brought up the rings. Then the piper took them back out.

As for the future: New Zealand for the honeymoon, a family of their own one day, and, in Ben's words, growing old together and living a relaxed, happy life. They signed their Marriage Schedule in the corner window with the sea behind them, which is about as good a place to sign it as I know.

Marrying at Seamill Hydro yourself?

The Firth Pavilion is the room to ask for. It is long and bright, hung with chandeliers, and one whole side is glass looking straight out over the beach and the Firth of Clyde to Arran. The sea does half the ceremony for you: the light changes by the minute, and no two weddings in that room ever look the same.

A few honest things from the front of the room. Put your signing table in the window, because that is where the photographs are. Have a piper outside for the arrivals: it is a proper Ayrshire welcome and it carries along the front. And plan for the weather in both directions. On a bright day, talk to the hotel about a few minutes out in the gardens or down towards the shore; on a grey one, the view from inside is still better than most venues' best day.

My Seamill Hydro venue guide has more on the hotel, and my Ayrshire wedding celebrant page covers the rest of the coast. If you'd like a handfasting like Ben and Jessica's, that's how I do them, and if you're thinking of writing your own vows, start with how to write wedding vows.