We step out of the car. Besides the sun blinding me, there is a sea of paparazzi and cameras. This is insane. The paps have followed my family and I everywhere since about 2003 when Kate started dating Will, but I’ve never seen them in these numbers.
“Kate! Kate! Kate! We are so excited for your wedding!"
"Pippa, look over here!”
"Catherine, who will you be wearing at the wedding?"
"Carole! Mrs. Middleton, will Micheal meet you all at the Abbey?"
"Congratulations Kate! Kate! Pippa!"
"Kate, I love your L.K. Bennett wedges!"
We smile and we wave, because this is what we always must do. We walk out of the protective awning and towards the car. We are just about to get into the car when I hear one shout through the crowd that isn't as kind and congratulatory as the others.
"Kate! Kate! Is it true that you and Carole plotted your marriage to royalty? Do you really love William or just his position?"
One voice in a sea of happy shouts. Kate won't hear it. I peer over at her on my left just to check. I might be imagining, but I think I see Kate's smile falter for a second. I hate the paps. I hate what they do to my sister. I thought that they would stay away from the horrible questions on the eve of Kate's wedding day, but deep down I know that my sister as well as the rest of my family will never be able to escape this.
I take Kate's hand in my own and give it a supportive squeeze. Mum sees this and takes Kate's other hand in her own. This makes the paps scream. Cameras flash and flash. Together, we all three strongly step into our waiting car. United as the three, for our last hours with Kate as a Middleton.