Rory really looked splendid in his tuxedo, standing up at the altar – he really looked nervous, though whether that was from marrying Simon or from the mob outside I don’t know. All through the ceremony we could hear them and there were nervous glances around the room as we tried to tune them out but it was becoming increasingly difficult. They sounded as if they were outside the tent now, surrounding us.

They must have moved in when security closed up the entrance to the tent. Choruses of ‘Faggots’ and ‘Queers’ reached us while the guards struggled to keep them away from the entrance.

The whole room cheered and clapped as Rory and Simon kissed. Cameras flashed as the press rushed to get their pictures of this momentous event. I felt a great swelling of pride as I watched them. I might have cried a little as I went up to congratulate them.

“Boys! You came! You don’t know how much it means to us that you braved the idiots and came to our wedding.” gushed Rory as he gathered me up in a huge bear hug.