by Jane Moore
“So did I. But I think we both took our eye off the ball.” Mark sighed. “We just started to argue about everything. She even had a go at me for that old cliché of leaving the loo seat up.”
“I get round that one by pissing in the washbasin.” Brian sniffed.
Exhausted by that emotionally draining exchange, they had avoided the subject of relationships after that.
Initially, Mark had missed Kate acutely. He ached to hear her voice, but most of all he missed holding her in the middle of the night.
As the months passed by, the pain dulled, but she was never far from his mind.
Friday, June 28
11:05 p.m.
In the ladies’ loo Faye leaned over the washbasin and studied her reflection in the mirror. It was one of those brightly lit ones, great for putting on makeup, but appalling for highlighting even the slightest facial blemish.
Absentmindedly applying lip gloss, she was absorbed in thoughts of Tony and finding the right time to talk to him. When they had all gone back into the library, he’d been engrossed in conversation with his father.
Faye had dealt with some tricky situations in her time, but this was the king of them all. She was getting married in just over fifteen hours’ time and her mind was on constant spin cycle, whirring with this possibility and that.
“Tony, about last weekend,” she murmured to her reflection. “It shouldn’t change anything . . .”
No, she thought. That’s too bossy. A man like him will want to feel that he decides whether it will change anything.
“What are you going to do about last weekend?” No, that put the ball too firmly in his court . . . “We need to talk about last weekend . . .” Better, but still just the tip of the iceberg. “Duh!” She slapped her palm against her forehead. How could she have been so recklessly stupid.
She came to the conclusion that the best way to handle it was to instigate a discussion, then go with the flow. Worryingly, everything rested on what Tony did with the information he had and, judging by his behavior so far this evening, he wasn’t giving her the benefit of the doubt.
The best she could hope for was that, once she got a chance to talk to him and explain herself, he’d recognize she was a nice person and perfectly able to make his brother happy. The only gaping hole in this scenario was that she hadn’t worked out her explanation of last weekend’s behavior.
Smoothing her hair, whispered, “Chin up, girl,” and stepped out into the corridor.
“Oh!” She collided with Nat, who was on his way into the gents’.
“Aha, I was hoping we’d get a chance for a chat,” he said.
“Save your breath. You’ll need it later to blow up your date.” She had quite liked McLaren, but she couldn’t resist having a dig at him via her.
He grinned. “You always did make me laugh. I like that.” Then, before she could object, he grabbed her by the elbow and streered her into a small locker room farther down the corridor. He used his foot to close the door behind them. “You look sensational, by the way,” he said, holding her by the arms and looking her up and down.
“Thanks,” said Faye, flatly. “Now what do you want? I have guests to look after.”
“OK, I’ll get straight to the point.” He looked earnest. “What are you doing marrying him?”
She scowled. “Because he’s a fantastic person, and I love him.”
Nat rolled his head from side to side in a gesture of impatience. “Yeah, yeah, whatever. But I’m telling you, he’s not the man for you.”
“Oh, you’re telling me, are you?” said Faye derisively. “And since when have you been the expert on any relationship, let alone mine?”
“I just know what you’re like. I was expecting a grown-up, someone a little tougher.”
“Mark is a kind, lovely man who I intend to marry tomorrow.”
“Kind and lovely?” he repeated scathingly. “We all know that’s what women say they want when they’re answering magazine surveys, but in reality they want someone who gives them a hard time occasionally.”
“Like you, you mean? Someone who only calls when they want sex?”
He let out a low whistle. “Ooooh, I never knew I bothered you so much.”
“You didn’t,” she said huffily. “You were about as important to me as that splash of wine on your lapel.” She pointed to the offending stain.
“Come on,” he murmured, moving closer. “You missed me as much as I missed you.”
“You missed me?” She was genuinely surprised.
“Yeah.”
“How much?” Faye felt nothing for Nat, but she was intrigued nonetheless. Like most people, her vanity got the better of her from time to time.
“For me, quite a lot. I’m used to moving on quickly after something breaks up, but I kept thinking about you.”
“You did?” Her resolve melted a little. “In what way?”
“The others didn’t make me laugh like you did, and they let me get away with too much. You always pulled me up.”
“Anything else?” Faye was looking for something more romantic, something to compensate her for the humiliation she’d felt when it ended, a validation that she had meant more than all the others.
Nat thought. “Yeah, there was one other thing that made me realize you’d had quite an effect on me.”
“Yes?” Her face lit up.
“Whenever I banged one out, I thought of you.”
The smile vanished. “What an honor” she said sarcastically.
“It is,” he agreed seriously. As he saw it, he’d just paid her a huge compliment.
“Look,” she sighed, “I must be getting back.”
“Just a minute, I haven’t finished what I was saying.” He looked earnest again. “Mark’s not right for you, Faye. I’ve been watching you with him all night”
“I’m flattered, really I am,” she said, “but there’s nothing you can say to convince me I’m making a mistake.”
She opened the door, but as she was about to walk out, he grabbed her arm and pulled her back towards him. “You and I were good together,” he murmured, “and I see you’re still wearing the necklace I bought you.” He tried to nuzzle her neck.
“Don’t flatter yourself,” she muttered. “I like it, that’s all.” Sexually, she conceded privately, they had been good together, and even now she found his proximity unnerving.
But when it came to a meeting of minds, Nat’s hadn’t shown up.
Faye tilted her head away and stifled a yawn. “Look, I’ve met Mr. Right, and you seem to have met your perfect woman. She doesn’t say much, she hangs on your every word, and she has enormous breasts.”
“Yeah, McLaren does have a couple of very fine points, but she’s not you.” He moved in closer still, his hand traveling down to her waist and stroking the area just under her left breast. “We really had something.”
Faye was about to slap away his hand, when a small movement caught her eye. As Nat attempted to nuzzle her neck again, she stood ramrod straight and her blood ran cold.
There, standing in the doorway looking straight at them, was Tony. “I hope I’m not interrupting anything.” His face was like stone. “I was looking for the men’s room.”
“Second door on the left, mate, just down the corridor,” said Nat, clearly unfazed by the situation.
“It has a picture of a man on the door,” said Faye pointedly, her face blazing with a mixture of guilt and embarrassment. “I think you’ll find you’ve walked straight past it.”
“Silly me.” He gave her an icy smile and disappeared.
The moment he’d gone, Faye slapped away Nat’s hand and stepped backwards as if she was retreating from a nasty pavement turd. “Get away from me, you moron,” she spat. “That was Mark’s brother.”
Nat shrugged. “So? Big deal, what’s he going to do?”
“That’s just my problem,” she muttered, as she stepped out into the empty corridor. “I don’t know.”
11:15 p.m.
Faye turned left at the end of the corridor and found a door that led into the gardens. She walked outside, lit a cigarette, and spent five minutes gathering herself. It was a pleasant, balmy night, with all the stars clearly visible, boding well for tomorrow’s all-important weather. Her mind cast ahead to the ceremony and she imagined how she would look as she walked across the lawns to her waiting guests.
Then her locker-room liaison with Nat popped back into her head and spoiled it all. She replayed Tony’s disgusted face in her mind’s eye, and her spirits sank. She now had a major damage-control exercise on her hands.
Any explanation she might have come up with to justify her behavior last weekend was now null and void, her sluttishness compounded by being found in a compromising pose with an ex-boyfriend. However innocent it had been on her part, she knew it looked bad. Really bad. Grinding out her cigarette with her stiletto heel, she leaned against the wall and did a few of the deep-breathing exercises she’d learned at yoga classes. She knew she had to find Tony and explain herself, and she wanted to keep calm while she did so.
When she returned to the library, he was locked in conversation with Adam and didn’t even glance up. Trying to ignore her heart’s pounding, she sauntered over to them. “Hi, sweetie,” said Adam, putting his arm round the small of her back and pulling her close. “Where have you been?”
“Just catching up with an old friend,” she said, and glanced at Tony’s face for a reaction. There wasn’t one.
“Tony’s just telling me about life in New York,” said Adam, clearly oblivious of any tension. “It sounds like a queen’s dream.”
But Faye wasn’t listening. All she could think about was getting rid of Adam and cornering Tony for the private conversation she hoped might keep her wedding weekend on track. “Why don’t you go and get some more to drink?” she said pleasantly.
“I’m fine, thanks.” Adam held up his nearly full wineglass.
“Well, I’m not,” she persisted, waving her empty hands at him. “So would you please get me a drink.”
“I’ll get it,” said Tony. He wandered to the other side of the room where a waiter was filling Jean’s glass.
“Look, you idiot,” muttered Faye as soon as he was out of earshot, “will you please make yourself scarce? You’re supposed to be on my side.”
Adam inspected his nails nonchalantly. “As you well know, darling, I can easily turn in the face of such a gorgeous man. He is utterly edible.”
She scowled. “He’s also utterly straight, so forget it.”
“You never know,” said Adam, with the eternal optimism displayed by so many gay men towards a handsome heterosexual. “He might not have met the right man yet.”
But Faye didn’t have time for his whimsical meanderings. “Quick, before he comes back,” she said urgently, squeezing his arm to get his full attention. “There’s something I need to discuss with him in private.”
“About what?” He looked intrigued.
“Something private,” Faye persisted.
He pulled a wounded face. “Darling, you know you can say anything in front of me.”
“Certainly. It’s just your big mouth afterwards that worries me.” She gripped his arm urgently. “When he comes back, you’re going to pretend there’s someone across the room you’re desperate to talk to.”
“Here?” Adam looked aghast. “God knows, I’d be struggling.”
“I don’t care. Just as long as you get lost,” she muttered, smiling with gritted teeth as Tony approached.
“A glass of wine for madam,” he said. He handed it to her, then rapidly looked bored, casting his eyes around the room. He was displaying the body language of someone who was about to walk off.
Faye widened her eyes at Adam, who was steadfastly refusing to look in her direction.
“Something wrong?” Tony was now looking straight at her.
“Sorry?”
“You were making a strange face.”
“No. I just thought I had something in my eye,” she said. While her eyes held Tony’s, her foot pressed down hard on Adam’s shoe.
“Ouch!” Her supposed best friend started to hop on the spot.
“You OK?” Tony asked him, apparently faintly amused.
“Fine, thanks,” said Adam, stiffly. He straightened his back. “Anyway, I must go and find your mother, Faye. Apparently she had a fascinating journey here and I want to hear all about it . . . again.” He delivered the sentence in a staccato fashion that left everyone present in no doubt that he’d been ordered to make his excuses.
“Right,” said Tony, noncommittally. “Now that you’ve got rid of him, what is it?”
“We need to talk.”
“I know,” he said brusquely. “That’s why I came to find you out there.” He jerked his head in the direction of the door that led to the corridor.
Faye lowerd her voice. “That wasn’t what it looked like.”
“Wasn’t it?” he said dismissively.
“I was coming out of the loo and bumped straight into Nat. He pushed me in there.”
“Pushed you?” he said. “I can’t imagine anyone pushing you around.”
Faye was irritated by this, but deliberately softened her expression. “He shoved me in before I had time to gather my senses.”
“What for?”
“Sorry?” She was bewildered.
“What for?” he repeated impatiently. “Why did he push you in there?”
“Well . . .” She paused, a humble look on her face. “This is going to sound very bigheaded, but he just wanted to tell me he still had feelings for me.”
“You’re right, it does sound bigheaded.” Tony flicked a piece of lint from his jacket sleeve. “It also sounds like a load of rubbish. Having spent five minutes in the man’s company, I can tell you he’s incapable of any feelings except in his penis. Judging from where his hand was, perhaps that’s what he was referring to.”
“His hand was on my waist,” she muttered.
“Didn’t look like that to me,” said Tony, with an “I’d like to believe you but I don’t” sigh.
“Well, it’s the truth. Take it or leave it.” She was overcome with the urge to slap him. “Anyway, that’s hardly the issue, is it?”
“At last you’ve got something right.” He touched her elbow and her arm erupted in goose pimples. “Come over here, away from any potential eavesdroppers.” He guided her towards a low wooden bench on the other side of the room, overlooked by an oil painting of a ferocious-looking elderly woman, wearing a marquee-sized taffeta gown and a lace bonnet.
He gestured to Faye to sit down, and lowered himself next to her. “There is no way you can marry my brother tomorrow,” he said firmly.
Taken aback by his directness, Faye said the first thing that came into her head: “Why?” Her throat contracted.
He looked at her incredulously. “Why? Are you serious? OK, I’ll remind you. Last weekend, I went to a wine bar, picked up a woman, and went back to her place where we almost had sex. The following weekend, I pitch up for my brother’s wedding and discover she’s the woman he’s marrying. Have I missed anything?”
Tears pricked in the corners of Faye’s eyes, but she held herself together. “You don’t understand . . .” she whispered. “You don’t know me.”
“I don’t have to know you,” he said. “I know your sort and that’s enough.” His face was deadly serious.
Faye, sprang to her feet, her eyes blazing. “My sort?” she exclaimed. “Just who the fuck do you think you are?”
“Sit down,” he hissed, and surveyed the room to see if anyone had noticed. “You’re not dealing with the little league now. Have some bloody dignity.”
Stung, Faye found herself doing as he said. She sat down, blinking furiously to stop herself weeping with shame and frustration.
Tony’s voice softened. “OK, so if I knew you, what would convince me that you should go ahead and marry Mark?”
&n
bsp; “I love him,” she said petulantly, refusing to look him in the eye.
“No, you don’t,” he said matter-of-factly. “You’re very fond of him, I can see that, but it’s not enough to sustain a marriage—not a modern one anyway.”
“So, Mr. Expert, if I don’t love him, why on earth would I be marrying him?” she said triumphantly.
“Not entirely sure,” he said. “All I know is that you and I were stark naked in your bedroom last weekend, and I’m not the man you claim to be in love with.”
Faye glowered at him, rendered speechless by the knowledge that there was nothing she could say to justify her outrageous actions.
“Maybe the money has something to do with it,” he suggested.
“Money?” Faye was baffled.
“Both Mark and I will inherit a lot when our parents die.”
Her mouth froze open in disbelief. Then she let out a sarcastic snort. “I see. Now I’m a gold digger, am I?”
“You tell me,” he replied.
Faye knew that a show of indignant rage was not the way to win with this man. She scanned the room for his parents and spotted them talking to Alice in front of the fireplace. She nodded in their direction. “Neither of them look unwell,” she said. “In fact, I would say there’s a good twenty or thirty years in them yet.”
Tony raised his eyebrows. “So?”
“So, do you seriously think I would marry someone for the faint promise of some cash when I’m in my fifties? Besides, I earn good money of my own, thanks.”
“Knowing them, they’ll offload quite a bit in our direction before then. I mean, let’s face it, they paid for all this.” He gestured round the room.
“We didn’t ask them to, they offered,” Faye said. “I would have been happy with warm wine and cold vol-au-vents at the local city hall, but Mark wanted to do something proper for your mum to enjoy. Apparently, you didn’t involve them in your wedding.”
