‘All right, as long as it’s all good. I’ll get another bottle of white for you, Robyn and Eliot, shall I?’
‘You do that, there’s a good lad.’
‘What happened?’ Robyn asked Freya when he’d gone. ‘I thought you’d written him off.’
She shrugged. ‘Dunno, I kind of missed him once I’d called time on it. You were right: I was too hasty.’
‘What about your blog?’
‘Took it down. I don’t think I’m cut out for kiss-and-tells. So, what do you all think of him?’
‘Seems pleasant enough,’ Eliot said. ‘And he’s getting us wine. I’ll give my tentative fraternal blessing.’
Robyn nodded. ‘If he can last more than three dates with you, Frey, he must be something special. I mean, his stamina alone.’
‘Thanks, guys,’ Freya said, beaming. ‘Winnie, what about you?’
He blinked. ‘Me? Do I get to have an opinion?’
‘Course. You’re one of us, aren’t you?’
Winnie turned to Eliot. ‘Am I?’
‘Well, yeah. Sorry, Win, I probably should’ve warned you from the off that these two came free with me.’
Winnie looked pleased. ‘I’ve never been part of a cool kids’ gang before. Hey, do I have power of veto?’
‘No,’ Freya said. ‘But you get to voice an opinion.’
‘All right, then I like him too.’ He glanced towards Ben at the bar. ‘In fact, I like him enough to go help him with the bottle of wine and two pints he’s about to be lumbered with, which is more than any of you lot do. See you in a minute.’
He gave Eliot a kiss before heading to the bar. Eliot watched him go, a soppy smile on his face.
‘So I see we’ve retired the Winnie Wince completely, El,’ Robyn said.
‘Yeah,’ he said with a sigh. ‘I’m over all that daftness now.’
‘That was a besotted-sounding sigh.’
‘Sad, right?’ He smiled in Winnie’s direction. ‘I was a shallow bastard ever to care about his name, or the tattoo. I mean, this stuff only happens to him because he’s so bloody lovely. He’s Winnie because he knows it’d upset his Grandad Winston if he changed his name. He gets dead dogs tattooed on him to avoid hurting the feelings of tattoo artists. He’s the ultimate nice guy, you know? Perfect just the way he is: name, tattoo and all.’
‘Doesn’t it make you sick?’ Freya said, rolling her eyes at Robyn.
‘Nah, I think it’s sweet.’
‘Yeah, well he’s not your brother.’ She nodded to Eliot. ‘El, show her your lion.’
Eliot pulled up a photograph on his phone. ‘Check this out, Rob. From my sketchbook.’
She blinked at the picture on the screen. ‘Wow. Did you really draw this?’
‘Yep,’ he said, looking proud. ‘I’ve got really into sketching since the life drawing session.’
‘This looks like a design for a tattoo. You’re not getting one as well, are you?’
‘Not me. Look a bit closer.’
Robyn zoomed in and squinted at the picture. ‘What am I looking for, El? I mean, it’s nicely detailed and everything, but…’
‘Doesn’t the face look familiar?’
‘I don’t know what you… oh! Jarvis!’
‘Yep,’ he said smugly. ‘Jarvis the Pomeranian becomes Leo the Lion. I designed it around his face. The mane’ll totally cover the ears and all the words, then he’ll just look like a lion with a slightly weird nose.’ He looked over at the busy bar, where Winnie and Ben were talking to Arty Johnson. ‘Don’t say anything, will you? It’s a surprise. I’ve got it all booked in at the tattoo place – different tattoo place, so there’s no chance of history repeating.’
Robyn looked at Freya. ‘Now why can’t we meet men like this guy, eh? A prince among his kind.’
‘We have met him, more’s the pity. And he’s still my gay baby brother so hands to yourself.’ Freya glanced towards the table where Will and Ash were chatting with Robyn’s parents. ‘Anyway, I’d have thought you had enough blokes on the go.’
‘Oh yeah, I heard about this,’ Eliot said. ‘So you’ve snogged them both, have you, Rob? Now that really is living in the moment.’
‘I didn’t snog them; it was just a little kiss each. And keep your bloody voices down.’ Robyn followed his gaze to the Barnes twins and winced. ‘God, look at them. I knew today was going to be hard work.’
‘Why, what’s up?’ Freya said.
‘It’s just… I’ve kind of got a thing about dinner suits,’ Robyn admitted, rubbing the back of her neck.
‘Have you? Why?’
‘I don’t know, I just find them a real turn-on. Every time I see a good-looking lad wearing one, it makes me feel a bit funny.’
‘So that’s why you got banned from Moss Bros.’
‘I think it’s a contrast thing. Men always look so civilised and groomed in them, it sends me sort of… primal. I can’t help wondering about what it might be like to—’
‘—rip their neatly pressed trousers off and go for it monkey-style on top of the bar?’ Eliot suggested.
She flinched. ‘Something like that, El, yeah. And that’s the last thing I need to be thinking about with those two.’
‘They do look adorable in their little dicky bows,’ Eliot said. ‘They’ve got cumberbatches on and everything.’
‘Cummerbunds, you tit.’ Freya glanced at Robyn. ‘You’re not in danger of trying to jump one or both of them this evening, are you, dinner suit pervert?’
‘Probably not. Just you make sure I go easy on the wine.’ She paused to take a sip. ‘I might have a date with Ash next weekend, guys.’
‘Seriously?’ Eliot said.
‘Yeah. I agreed to it in church when he caught me with my guard down and started waggling his dicky at me.’
‘Are you sure that’s a good idea? If you’re still having Will issues?’
‘I think so,’ she said. ‘It at least ought to help me work out what I’m feeling towards Ash. I mean, in the end it’s either going to be me and Ash, or me and somebody else, or me and… well, me. It never can be me and Will. He’d be beyond horrified if he thought I had ideas like that about him.’ She blinked hard. ‘I freaked him out so much with the kiss that he can barely stand to be near me, and that was just a bit of drunken idiocy. God knows how he’d react if he knew I’d developed proper feelings for him.’
Winnie and Ben arrived back with the drinks and took their seats next to their respective partners.
‘Hey, did you guys see who’s here?’ Ben said, sounding excited.
‘Who?’ Robyn asked, scanning the room. ‘Someone famous?’
‘Arthur Johnson, I just spoke to him at the bar. Can you believe it?’
‘You’ve heard of Arty?’ Freya said. ‘You live miles away.’
‘Course I have, his book’s sold out twice in our town’s bookshop. Didn’t you see him being interviewed on Look North yesterday?’
‘Bloody hell,’ Robyn said. ‘So he’s a proper local celeb now.’
‘Yeah, didn’t you know?’ Winnie turned to look at Arty by the bar, where the old man was signing a copy of his memoirs someone had brought along. ‘He’s been in the paper, on telly, everything. That book of his has been a sensation as far away as the bright lights of Knaresborough. Maybe even Harrogate.’
‘I thought people would be pissed off, but he seems to have plenty of fans,’ Robyn said, watching Arty sign a second book. ‘He dished the dirt on everyone who’s anyone round here in that thing. Not a postmistress, churchwarden or parish councillor was safe.’
‘I think people have mostly been pleased,’ Eliot said. ‘Now Arty’s this big celebrity, it’s become something to dine out on, saying you got a mention in his book.’
‘The stories are hardly flattering though, are they?’
‘But they are salacious, and the more salacious the story, the greater the celebrity by association. You’d be surprised how much people enjoy being embroiled in a bi
t of scandal.’ He nodded to the bar. ‘See?’
Robyn turned to look. Molly Gardiner had joined Arty and he had one arm around her waist, whispering in her ear while she smirked.
‘Are they a couple then?’
‘More than that,’ Winnie said, smiling. ‘They’re engaged. Arty popped the question live on TV yesterday.’
‘Aww.’
Robyn fell silent, watching the happy pair.
‘It’s funny, isn’t it?’ she said. ‘Molly broke Arty’s heart when she left him for someone else – it’s all there in his book. The way he writes about it, you can tell it hurts, even now. Yet he still fell in love with her again.’
‘You thinking about Ash?’ Freya asked quietly.
‘A bit. I never thought I’d be able to forgive him, but looking at those two, I do wonder…’ She shook her head. ‘Oh, I don’t know. Arty’s had sixty years to get over his broken heart. I’ve barely had one.’
‘Food for thought though, eh?’
‘Yes.’ She watched Arty give Molly a kiss. ‘I suppose it is.’
‘We’re going to have to change the club’s name to The Lonely Hearts Marriage Bureau at this rate,’ Eliot said. ‘That’s two engagements we’ve chalked up. I wonder who’ll be next?’
*
‘Let’s sneak off to the pool table,’ Ash whispered to Will when Robyn’s parents had left them. ‘If I have to make any more small talk, I’m going to develop spontaneous Tourette’s.’
‘With you there, bruv. Tammy Bloom’s talked me deaf in one ear.’
The pool table was tucked away in the snug. Ash racked up the balls while Will selected a cue.
‘You can break,’ Ash said, taking out his phone. ‘I’m just going to see what tickets I can find for me and Rob on Saturday. First date since we broke up, I need to get it right.’
‘Where do you think you’ll take her?’ Will said as he struck the cue ball.
‘I was thinking it ought to be something carpe diemy.’ Ash watched as one of the reds rolled into the top left pocket. ‘Maybe hot-air ballooning.’
‘Wouldn’t you be better just taking her to a restaurant?’ Will potted a second red and moved around the table. ‘You know, somewhere relaxed where you can talk?’
‘No, it needs to be something special for what I’ve got in mind,’ Ash said, his gaze fixing on Felicity and the Brigadier as they stood at the bar with their arms around each other.
‘Why, what have you got in mind?’ Will asked, taking aim at a third red.
‘I’m going to ask Robyn to marry me.’
Will miscued, and the white ball jumped over the cushion and rolled away out of sight.
35
Will pushed his glass and a handful of change across the bar.
‘Hit me.’
The young barman looked uncertain, but then obviously decided that refusing service to drunk men in dishevelled dinner suits – especially when they came in Will’s size – was way above his pay grade and refilled the glass from the whisky optic.
Most of the wedding guests had long since disappeared. Ash had walked home with Robyn and her parents; the Brig and Felicity had disappeared upstairs to the honeymoon suite. Only a few hardcore revellers and Will now remained.
He spun unsteadily on the stool when he felt a hand on his shoulder.
‘Oh. Hi, Eliot,’ he mumbled. ‘Didn’t realise you were still here. Where’s Winnie?’
‘Him and Ben went to the offy to pick up supplies. They’re meeting me and Frey at her place.’
‘Sounds like a party. Robyn going?’
‘No, she’s having to put in a bit of family time.’ He looked Will up and down. ‘I would invite you but you look like you’ve had enough.’
‘Huh. Not tonight, El. Not nearly enough tonight.’ He knocked back a gulp of whisky and stared blearily into the glass.
Eliot pulled up the barstool next to Will’s. ‘You want to talk about it?’
‘Not really.’
Freya appeared from the Ladies and joined them.
‘Come on, El, are we off?’ She frowned when she noticed Will, who’d slumped forward. ‘Christ, what’s up with him?’
‘Nothing,’ Will muttered. ‘Fine. Just… tired.’
‘Yeah, tired and emotional, to quote a favourite tabloid euphemism,’ Eliot said. ‘Will, why’re you drinking like the hard-boiled detective in a Raymond Chandler novel?’
‘I’m drinking to my brother’s happiness.’ Will raised his glass in a mock toast. ‘He’s got plans, you know.’
Freya cast a worried look at Eliot and claimed a stool.
‘Is this about Ash kissing Robyn last night?’
‘Yeah. Happy for them.’ Will finished his whisky. ‘So, so happy. Couldn’t be happier.’
‘Will, when I asked you out…’
‘Oh yeah, sorry about that. There was someone else.’ He snorted. ‘Sounds dramatic, doesn’t it? Life’s all soap opera these days.’
‘Are you talking about Robyn?’
‘Robyn Bloom. My perfect woman. Can you believe I only just realised that?’
‘Come on, that’s the drink talking,’ Eliot said, resting a hand on his back. ‘You can’t mean it.’
‘Why can’t I mean it? Because it’s inconvenient? I bloody know it is, which is why I’ve spent the last few months trying to get over it.’ He turned unfocused eyes on his friend. ‘I’m in love with my brother’s future wife, El, and I don’t know what the fuck to do about it.’
‘Shit,’ Eliot muttered.
‘Shit indeed. I mean, what can you do about that, apart from try to drink it away?’ He pushed his glass across the bar. ‘I’m getting another.’
‘Don’t,’ Freya said gently, putting her hand over the glass. ‘Any more and you might end up doing something you’ll regret.’
Will glared at her. ‘What’re you two still doing here anyway? I thought you had a party to go to.’
‘We’re trying to stop an old friend getting himself into trouble,’ she said. ‘Let us walk you home, Will. You can tell us all about it.’
‘Or you know what, how about a sleepover?’ Eliot said. ‘My place is nearer than yours.’
Freya nodded. ‘That’s a good idea. You don’t want to be tempted into saying this stuff to Ash.’
Will hid his face in his hands, his Adam’s apple working convulsively.
‘How did I let this happen?’ he muttered. ‘The one person, out of everyone… the one I know I could never be with, even if she felt the same. Not without alienating my brother, and I bloody love that little bastard. Christ!’ He laughed manically. ‘And the irony is, if I’d worked it out years ago, she could’ve been with me. She could’ve been with me this whole time, and I never would’ve… what Ash did, I could never…’ His voice was lost in sobs.
‘All right, come on,’ Eliot said, helping Will to his feet. ‘Sleepover time.’
‘What about your party?’ Will mumbled.
‘Never mind that. This is more important.’
Freya and Eliot took an arm each and helped him to the door.
Will was unsteady on his feet, but he was a big lad, and even after… oh, uncountable whiskies, he wasn’t quite fall-down drunk. He let his two friends guide him in the direction of Eliot’s flat.
‘We’ll take the back road, where we’re less likely to be spotted,’ Eliot said in an undertone to Freya. ‘The last thing a doctor needs in this place is a reputation as the village drunk.’
‘So that’s why you’ve been avoiding Robyn,’ Freya said to Will. ‘She thought you were pissed off with her.’
‘Never. She’s perfect,’ he whispered. ‘Tried to get over it, stay out of her way. Seriously tried. Couldn’t help it, Frey. I just bloody… love her.’
‘Here, this way,’ Eliot said. ‘Left here.’
‘How long have you felt like that?’ Freya asked.
‘Dunno. Christmas, maybe. Tried to lie to myself about it for a bit, but… didn’t work.’ He bli
nked at the foggy outline of a streetlight. ‘I need to move away or something. Leave her and Ash to be happy.’
‘I don’t know if Rob wants to be happy with Ash,’ Eliot said. ‘He hurt her a lot. Even if they got back together, I’m not sure she’d be able to fully get over it.’
‘But it couldn’t ever be me. Ash loves her. My little brother… I mean, even when he’s nothing but a pain in my arse I love him to bits, you know?’
Freya smiled at Eliot. ‘Yeah, I get that.’
‘What can I do? I can’t stop feeling what I feel – God knows, I’ve tried. I can’t be with Robyn. I can’t hurt Ash. I’m trapped.’ He stumbled on a rock and swore at it. ‘Maybe I’ll go to bloody Australia. I don’t see why I shouldn’t, if Ash can. Stay there until I’m over it. Or forever, if that’s what it takes.’
‘That’s not a decision to be making in this state,’ Eliot said. ‘Perhaps it just needs time. If you and Rob stay out of each other’s way for a while…’
‘She lives next door, El. Plus may soon be in a relationship with my brother. I’m running out of excuses to avoid them both.’ He tried to focus on Eliot’s flat as it came into view. ‘I should tell them.’
‘Noooo!’ Freya shook her head vigorously. ‘You do not want to do that, trust me.’
‘I wouldn’t come between them. Just want them to… understand. Honesty’s the best wotsit, right?’
‘Wrong. Unless you want to make things awkward between the three of you for evermore, you’ll keep your big drunk mouth shut, Will Barnes.’ She held out her hand. ‘Give me your phone.’
‘What for?’
‘I’m confiscating it in case of drunk-dialling incidents. Eliot’ll give it you back in the morning.’
‘But I might need it.’
‘Don’t make me frisk you, Will.’
‘Fine. Bossypants.’ He fumbled it out and passed it to her.
‘You’ll thank me later. Believe me, the last thing you want to do is make drunken confessions you can’t take back.’
‘And don’t worry,’ Eliot said. ‘Your secret’s safe with us.’
*
‘Hiya,’ Ash said when his brother stumbled in the next morning. ‘Fuck me, you look rough. You want a coffee?’
The Never Have I Ever Club Page 28
