Wedding Night
Page 83

 Sophie Kinsella

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“What’s the problem?” he says at last. “Are you pissed off?”
Is he joking?
“Yes!” I erupt. “I am a little pissed off that, after I had sorted out the whole situation with Ben and my sister, you had to go barging in and wreck it!”
I can see the truth slowly dawning on his face. “You’re blaming me?”
“Of course I’m blaming you! If you’d said nothing, they wouldn’t be married!”
“Uh-uh.” He shakes his head adamantly. “Incorrect. Ben’s mind was made up.”
“Lottie said it was because of you.”
“Lottie was wrong.”
He’s not going to back down, is he? Bastard.
“All I know is, I’d sorted the situation,” I say stonily. “I’d managed it. And then this happened.”
“You thought you’d sorted it,” he corrects me. “You thought you’d managed it. When you know Ben as well as I do, you’ll realize that his mind flips direction like a fish. Previous agreements count for nothing. Agreements to sign crucial, time-sensitive documents, for example.” There’s a sudden irritation in his voice. “You can pin him down all you like. He still slips away.”
“That’s why you’re here?” I glance at his briefcase. “Just for these documents?”
“If Muhammad won’t come to the mountain, the mountain has to cancel all his plans and get on a plane.” His phone bleeps with a text and he reads it, then starts typing a reply. “It would really help me if I could talk to Ben,” he adds as he types. “Do you know what they’re doing?”
“Couples’ Quiz,” I reply.
Lorcan looks baffled, then types some more. Slowly, I sit down. Noah has descended onto the floor and is making a hat out of Lorcan’s newspaper.
“Noah,” I say, without conviction. “Don’t do that. My son,” I add to Lorcan.
“Hello,” says Lorcan to Noah. “Nice hat. So, you never told me. What are you doing here, exactly? Joining the happy couple, I assume. Do they know?”
The question takes me off guard. I sip the water, my mind working hard.
“Lottie asked me to go out there,” I lie at last. “But I’m not sure if Ben knows yet, so don’t mention that you’ve seen me, OK?”
“Sure.” He shrugs. “A little odd, asking your sister to join you on honeymoon. Isn’t she having a good time?”
“Actually, they’re thinking of renewing their vows,” I say in sudden inspiration. “Lottie wanted me there as a witness.”
“Oh, please.” Lorcan scowls. “What kind of shit idea is that?”
His tone is so dismissive, I find myself getting irritated.
“I think it’s rather a nice idea,” I contradict him. “Lottie’s always wanted a ceremony by the sea. She’s quite a romantic.”
“I’m sure.” Lorcan nods as though digesting this, then looks up, deadpan. “What about the ponies? Is she having those?”
Ponies? I peer at him blankly. What on earth—
Matching ponies. Great. So he did hear me yesterday morning. My face fills with blood, and just for an instant I feel myself losing my cool.
The way to deal with this, I swiftly decide, is to be direct. We’re grown-ups. We can acknowledge an embarrassing situation and move on. Exactly.
“So. Um.” I clear my throat. “Yesterday morning.”
“Yes?” He leans forward, with mock interest. He’s not going to make this easy for me, is he?
“I don’t know exactly what you …” I try again. “Obviously I was talking on the phone to my sister when you came into the room. And what you heard was totally out of context. I mean, you’ve probably forgotten what I said. But just in case you haven’t, I wouldn’t want you to … misinterpret anything.…”
He’s not paying me any attention. He’s taken out a notepad and is writing on it. So rude. Still, at least that means I’m off the hook. I offer the water bottle to Noah, who sips absentmindedly, his attention fixed on his newspaper hat. Then I look up as Lorcan taps me on the shoulder. He hands me his notepad, on which are lines of writing.
“I believe I have a good memory for words,” he says politely. “But please correct me if any of it is wrong.”
As I read the lines, my jaw drops in dismay.
Small. Seriously, tiny. The whole night was such an ordeal. I had to pretend I was having a good time, and all along … No. Terrible. And afterward wasn’t much better. I feel ill at the very thought. In fact, I might throw up. And then Lorcan will never love me, and we’ll never get married in a double wedding on matching ponies.