"It's ok, Nugie can go in the boot."

Their story

On 17 November 2012, Kelly was leaving a party with a pal and heading into town when one of Michael's mates stopped the same taxi and asked if they'd mind picking his friend up on the way. His reassurance to the two women already in it: "It's ok, Nugie can go in the boot." The boot was not required. Michael squeezed in with everybody else, and sat on Kelly's dress.

First impressions were mixed. Kelly thought he was posh, young-looking, quiet, and (her words) good-looking, like Danny out of The Script. On account of the dress, she also instantly didn't like him, and she asked to see his ID before they went dancing. Michael, meanwhile, overheard her on the phone telling someone she was out with "some boy called Matthew", and quietly assumed he was being ditched. The night ended in Bamboo, which shut early for a fire alarm, and then the Riverboat Casino. And that, folks, was the start of it.

They saw each other the next weekend, and every weekend after that. A couple of months in, Kelly decided her mum needed to meet him, and got her out of her bed at four in the morning to do it. On a trip to Tenerife they played tig in the hotel pool with such commitment that the staff made a formal complaint. When they got their first flat, they locked themselves out on the very first night.

Michael laid down one rule for that flat: no cats. It lasted three months, until Kelly asked whether she might mind her cousin's cat for a wee while, and Michael, being a reasonable man, said that would be fine. There was no cousin's cat. There was a cat called Ollie, and Ollie never left. Later came the sensible, unglamorous bit: giving up their own front door and moving back in with their parents to save for a house. It was meant to take a few months. Covid made it two years. In May 2022 they finally got the keys to their first home.

A proposal in Paris, and a change of plan

In March 2023 they went to Rome, Paris and Amsterdam. It began with a stand-off at Rome airport, where Michael flatly refused to check his carry-on, because the ring was in it. Kelly had her suspicions, not least because he'd asked, far too casually, whether she would be getting her nails done before the trip. He proposed in the Trocadéro Gardens with the Eiffel Tower behind them, in the city they had first visited together nine years before. The next day they celebrated on an open-top bus tour of Paris, which Michael saw approximately none of, because Celtic were playing Hearts in the Scottish Cup and the game was on his phone.

Eighteen days after getting engaged, they found out they were having a baby, and the wedding went on the back burner without a moment's argument. Their son arrived that October. There is a story about his name, too. Kelly had always loved it. Michael did not. Then, while Kelly was still in hospital, he came across a pile of baby things already embroidered with it, and discovered he no longer had a position on the matter.

The ceremony

Kelly's stepdad, Davie, walked her in to "Dreams" by Gabrielle, with Michael waiting at the front beside his joint best men, Anton and Stephen. The Lagavulin Suite had been set with a long white aisle, candles and petals down either side and a flower arch in front of the big windows, so it looked the part before anyone had even sat down.

The handfasting was built around their son. The first loop was Michael's love for Kelly, the second was Kelly's love for Michael, and the third was for him. These two didn't just become a couple; they became a family, and everything they promised each other that afternoon, they were promising him as well.

Then Kelly's grandad stood up and read a poem he had written himself: a tour of every Friday he spent with Kelly as she grew up, from the Burger King play area to the Leisuredrome in Bishopbriggs to the flumes at the Time Capsule, and then, once she turned eighteen, the two of them back out together again. You cannot write a line into a ceremony that competes with that, and you shouldn't try. The whole room answered with a loud "We do!", and Kelly and Michael went back up the aisle to "You've Got the Love".

Marrying at the Gailes yourself?

The Gailes Hotel & Spa sits on Marine Drive among the links courses on the stretch of coast between Irvine and Troon. For weddings it has three main spaces: the Lagavulin Suite, which the hotel says takes up to 240; the Rooftop Conservatory, all glass and greenery, for up to 100; and a Wedding Pavilion out in the gardens for up to 200. Kelly and Michael married in the Lagavulin Suite and had their photos up in the conservatory afterwards, which is a lovely way to use the building.

A few honest things from the front of the room. Decide early whether your ceremony is in the same room as your meal, because it shapes the whole running order. If you have wee ones in the wedding party, give them a job and a plan B: a two-year-old is allowed to change his mind about carrying a handfasting cord. And make sure the ceremony time on your venue booking, your celebrant booking and your invitations all match. It sounds obvious. It catches people out.

My Gailes Hotel venue guide has more on the spaces, and my Ayrshire wedding celebrant page covers the rest of the coast. I'm an Ayrshire boy myself, born in Ardrossan, so this is home turf. If you'd like a handfasting of your own, that's how I do them, and if you're bringing children or a blended family into the day, my blended family guide has ideas that work.