Wedding Night
Page 22
“Look,” I manage at last, my face puce. “I didn’t mean … that.”
“Which bit?” He raises his eyebrows.
Bastard. Does he think this is funny?
“You know as well as I do,” I begin icily, “that those words were taken out of context. They didn’t refer to …” I trail off as a growing hubbub attracts my attention. It’s coming from the desk. Two air hostesses are remonstrating with a man in a linen shirt and chinos, who’s trying to squash a suitcase into the hand-baggage measuring stand. As he raises his voice angrily to answer, I realize it’s familiar.
He turns, and I quell a gasp of shock. I thought so: it’s Richard!
“Sir, I’m afraid the case is clearly too big for the cabin.” A woman from the airline is addressing him. “And it’s too late to check it in now. Might I suggest that you wait and catch a later flight?”
“A later flight?” Richard’s voice erupts from him like the sound of a tormented animal. “There aren’t any other flights to this godforsaken place! One a day! What kind of service is that?”
“Sir—”
“I need to get on this flight.”
“But, sir—”
To my astonishment, Richard vaults up so that he’s resting on the high desk, his eyes level with the airline woman’s.
“The girl I love has tethered herself to another man,” he says intensely. “I was too slow off the mark, and I’ll never forgive myself for that. But if I can do nothing else, I can tell her how I really feel. Because I never showed her. Not properly. I’m not even sure I knew myself.”
I gape at him, absolutely astonished. Is this Richard? Making declarations of love in public? If only Lottie could see this! She’d be bowled over! The airline woman, on the other hand, looks supremely unmoved. She has black dyed hair pulled into a harsh bun and a doughy face with mean little eyes.
“Be that as it may, sir,” she says, “your case is too big for the cabin. Could you step aside from the desk?”
What a bitch. I’ve seen plenty of people take luggage that size onto planes. I know I should step forward and tell Richard I’m here, but something inside me needs to see what will happen next.
“Fine. I won’t bring the bag.” Glowering at her, Richard jumps back down to the floor and snaps open the clasps of his case. He grabs a couple of T-shirts, a wash bag, a pair of socks, and some boxer shorts, then kicks the case aside.
“There. This is my hand luggage.” He brandishes it all at her. “Happy now?”
The airline woman regards him evenly. “You can’t leave that case there, sir.”
“Fine.” He snaps the case shut and dumps it on top of a litter bin. “There.”
“You can’t leave it there either, sir. It’s a security issue. We don’t know what’s in it.”
“You do.”
“No, we don’t.”
“You just saw me unpack it.”
“Be that as it may, sir.”
The entire place has turned to watch this exchange. Richard is breathing hard. His broad shoulders are raised. Again I’m reminded of a bull about to charge.
“Uncle Richard!” Noah has suddenly noticed him. “Are you coming on holiday with us?”
Richard’s whole body jolts in astonishment as he registers first Noah, then me.
“Fliss?” He drops a pair of boxer shorts on the floor and stoops to pick them up, looking a little less bull-like. “What are you doing here?”
“Hi, Richard.” I try to sound nonchalant. “We’re joining Lottie. What— er—” I spread my hands questioningly. “I mean, what exactly—”
Clearly I know the gist of what he’s up to, as does everyone here, but I’m interested in the details. Does he have a plan?
“I couldn’t just sit back,” he says gruffly. “I couldn’t just lose her and walk away and never even tell her what I—” He breaks off, his face working with emotion. “I should have proposed when I had the chance,” he adds suddenly. “I should have cherished what I had! I should have proposed!”
His roar of grief rises through the silent air. The whole place is agog, and, quite frankly, I’m flabbergasted. I’ve never seen Richard moved to such passion. Has Lottie?
I wish I’d recorded his whole speech on my BlackBerry.
“Sir, please remove your case from that bin.” The airline woman is addressing Richard. “As I say, it’s causing a security alert.”
“It’s not mine anymore,” he counters, brandishing his boxer shorts at her. “This is my hand luggage.”
The woman’s chin tightens. “Do you want me to call security and have your case destroyed, thus delaying the flight by six hours?”
I’m not the only person who gasps in horror. Around us, polite murmurs of protest start swelling into hostile, pointed comments. I’m sensing Richard is not the most popular passenger in the place. In fact, I’m sensing that the boos and slow hand-claps may begin any moment.
“Uncle Richard, are you coming on holiday with us?” Noah is consumed with joy. “Can we do wrestling? Can I sit next to you on the plane?” He throws himself at Richard’s legs.
“Doesn’t look like it, kiddo.” Richard gives him a wry smile. “Unless you can persuade this lady.”
“This is your uncle?” Noah’s friend Cheryl springs into life at the other desk, where she’s been watching proceedings with a vacant stare. “The uncle you were telling me about?”
“This is Uncle Richard,” confirms Noah happily.
I should never have let him get into the habit of calling Richard “Uncle,” I think to myself. It started one Christmas and we thought it was cute. We didn’t predict a breakup. We thought Richard had become part of the family. We never thought—
Suddenly I’m aware that Cheryl is almost hyperventilating.
“Margot!” At last she manages to speak through her gasps. “You’ve got to let this man on the plane! He saved his nephew’s life! He’s a brilliant man!”
“What?” Margot scowls.
“Huh?” Richard gapes at Cheryl.
“Don’t be modest! Your nephew told me the whole story!” Cheryl says tremulously. “Margot, you have no idea. This whole family. They’ve been through such a lot.” She steps out from behind her desk. “Sir, let me take your boarding pass.”
I can see Richard’s mind whirring in disbelief. He glances suspiciously at Noah, then at me. I pull an agonized face, trying to convey the message, Just go with it.
“And you too.” Cheryl turns gushingly to me. “You must have been deeply affected by your little boy’s ordeal.”
“We take each day as it comes,” I murmur vaguely.
This seems to satisfy her, and she moves away. Richard is still clutching his underpants, looking gobsmacked. I’m not even going to try to explain.
“So, um, you want to sit down?” I say. “I could get us a coffee or something?”
“Why are you joining Lottie?” he demands without moving. “Is there a problem?”
I’m not sure how to answer. On the one hand, I don’t want to give him false hope. On the other, could I perhaps hint that all is not perfect in paradise?
“They’re renewing their vows, aren’t they?” says Lorcan over his newspaper.
“Who’s this?” Richard reacts with instant suspicion. “Who are you?”
“Right,” I say awkwardly. “Um, Richard, this is Lorcan. Ben’s best man. Best friend. Whatever. He’s flying out there too.”
Immediately, Richard stiffens into his bull-like posture again.
“I see,” he says, nodding. “I see.”
I don’t think he does see, but he’s so tense I don’t dare interrupt. He’s instinctively squared up to Lorcan, his fists clenched.
“And you are?” says Lorcan politely.
“I’m the idiot who let her go!” says Richard with sudden passion. “I couldn’t see the vision she wanted for us. I thought she was, I don’t know, starry-eyed. But now I can see the stars too. I can see the vision. And I want it too.
”
All the women nearby are listening to him, rapt. Where did he learn to speak like that? Lottie would love that stuff about stars. I’ve been fumbling at my BlackBerry, trying to surreptitiously record him, but I’m too slow.
“What are you doing?”
“Nothing!” I quickly lower my phone.
“Oh God. Maybe this is a bad idea.” Richard suddenly seems to come to and see himself standing in the middle of a departure lounge with underwear in his hands and an audience of passengers. “Maybe I should just bow out.”
“No!” I say quickly. “Don’t bow out!”
If only Lottie could see Richard right now. If only she could know his true feelings. She’d see sense, I know she would.
“Who am I kidding?” He sags in desolation. “It’s too late. They’re married.”
“They’re not!” I retort before I can stop myself.
“What?” Richard and Lorcan both stare at me. I can see lots of other interested faces leaning in to listen too.
“I mean they haven’t, you know, consummated it yet,” I explain as quietly as I can. “So technically that means they could still get a legal annulment. The marriage would never have existed.”
“Really?” I can see a glimmer of hope rising on Richard’s face.
“Why haven’t they consummated it?” says Lorcan incredulously. “And how do you know?”
“She’s my sister. We tell each other everything. And as for why …” I clear my throat evasively. “It’s simply bad luck. The hotel messed up with the beds. Ben got drunk. That kind of thing.”
“Too much information,” says Lorcan, and starts putting his papers away in his briefcase.
Richard says nothing. His brow is furrowed and he appears to be taking this all in. At last he sinks down on the seat next to me and savagely screws his boxer shorts into a ball. I watch him, still feeling disbelief that he’s here at all.
“Richard,” I say at last. “You know the phrase ‘Too little, too late’? Well, you’re more like ‘Too much, too late.’ Flying halfway across the world. Rushing to the airport. Making romantic speeches all over the place. Why didn’t you do any of this before?”
Richard doesn’t answer the question but stares at me glumly. “You think I’m too late?”
That’s a question I don’t want to answer.
“It’s just an expression,” I say after a pause. “Come on.” I pat him reassuringly on the shoulder. “We’re boarding.”
About half an hour into the flight, Richard comes up to the front, where Noah and I are sitting in a row of three in club class. I haul Noah onto my lap and Richard slides in next to me.
“How tall would you say this Ben is?” he says with no preamble.
“Don’t know. I’ve never met him.”
“But you’ve seen pictures. Would you say … five eight? Five nine?”
“I don’t know.”
“I’d say five nine. Definitely shorter than me,” Richard adds, with a grim satisfaction.
“Well, that’s not hard,” I point out. Richard is at least six foot two.
“Never thought Lottie would go for a short-arse.”
I have no reply to make to this, so I roll my eyes and carry on reading the airline magazine.
“I looked him up.” Richard mashes an airsick bag between his fingers. “He’s a multimillionaire. Owns a paper company.”
“Mmm. I know.”
“I tried to find out if he’s got a private jet. It didn’t say. Expect he has.”
“Richard, stop torturing yourself.” I finally turn to him. “It’s not about private jets. Or height. There’s no point comparing yourself to him.”
Richard looks at me for a few silent seconds. Then, as though I hadn’t even spoken, he says, “Have you seen his house? They used it for Highton Hall. He’s a multimillionaire and he’s got a stately home.” He scowls. “Bastard.”
“Richard—”
“But he’s pretty puny, don’t you think?” He’s tearing the airsick bag into strips. “Never thought Lottie would go for someone so puny.”
“Richard, stop it!” I exclaim in exasperation. If he’s going to go on like this the whole journey, I’ll go mad.
“Is this our special guest?” A sugary voice interrupts us, and we look up to see an air hostess with a French plait, bearing down on us with a wide smile. She’s holding a teddy bear, an airline wallet, some lollipops, and a huge box of Ferrero Rocher chocolates. “Cheryl told us all about you,” she addresses Noah brightly. “I’ve got some special gifts for you here.”
“Cool! Thank you!” Noah grabs the presents before I can stop him and gasps, “Mummy, look! A big box of Ferrero Rocher chocolates! You can get them!”
“Thanks,” I say awkwardly. “That’s really unnecessary.”
“It’s the least we can do!” the air hostess assures me. “And is this the famous uncle?” She bats her eyelashes at Richard, who stares back with a blank frown.
“My uncle can speak three languages,” says Noah proudly. “Uncle Richard, talk Japanese!”
“A surgeon and a linguist?” The air hostess opens her eyes wide, and I dig my fingers into Richard’s hand before he can protest. I don’t want Noah mortified in public.
“That’s right!” I say quickly. “He’s a very talented man. Thanks so much.” I smile at the air hostess fixedly till she leaves, after a final pat on the head for Noah.
“Fliss, what the hell’s going on?” expostulates Richard in an undertone as soon as she’s walked away.
“Can I have a credit card to put in my wallet?” asks Noah, examining it. “Can I have an AmEx? Can I have points?”
Oh God. He knows about AmEx points at the age of seven? This is mortifying. Almost as bad as when we checked in to a hotel in Rome and, by the time I’d found change for a tip, Noah had already asked to see a different room.
I get out my iPod and hand it to Noah, who whoops with delight and slots the earphones into his ears. Then I lean toward Richard and lower my voice.
“Noah told some made-up story to the ground staff.” I bite my lip, feeling a sudden relief at sharing my worries. “Richard, he’s turned into a complete fantasist. He does it at school. He told one teacher he’d had a heart transplant and another he had a surrogate baby sister.”
“What?” Richard’s face drops.
“I know.”
“Where did he get those kind of ideas, anyway? A surrogate baby sister, for God’s sake?”
“Off a DVD they were playing in the special-needs department,” I say wryly.
“Right.” Richard digests this. “So what story did he tell this lot?” He gestures at the air hostess.
“No idea. Apart from the fact that you play a starring role as a surgeon.” I meet his eye and we suddenly both snort with laughter.
“It’s not funny.” Richard shakes his head, biting his lip.
“It’s awful.”
“Poor little guy.” Richard ruffles Noah’s head, and he looks up briefly from his iPod trance, a beatific smile on his face. “Do they think he’s doing it because of the divorce?”
My residual laughter melts away. “Probably,” I say lightly. “Or, you know, the evil career mother.”
Richard winces. “Sorry.” He pauses. “How’s that all going, anyway? Have you signed the settlement yet?”
I open my mouth to answer honestly—then stop myself. I’ve bored Richard many times over dinner about Daniel. I can see he’s bracing himself for the rant. Why did I never notice people bracing themselves before?
“Oh, fine.” I give him my new saccharine smile. “All good! Let’s not talk about it.”
“Right.” Richard looks taken aback. “Great! So … any new men on the horizon?” His voice suddenly seems to have doubled in volume, and I flinch. Before I can stop myself, I glance at Lorcan, who is sitting by the opposite window, engrossed in his laptop, and thankfully didn’t seem to hear.
“No,” I say. “Nothing. No one.”
“What?” He peers at me in astonishment. “Him?”
“Shhh.”
“Him?”
“No! I mean … yes.” I feel flustered. “Once.”
“Him?” Richard sounds mortally offended. “But he’s on the other side!”
“There aren’t sides.”
Richard is surveying Lorcan with narrowed, suspicious eyes. After a moment, Lorcan looks up. He seems startled to see us both gazing at him. My whole body floods with heat and I abruptly turn away.
“Stop it!” I hiss. “Don’t look at him!”
“You were looking at him too,” points out Richard.
“Only because you were!”
“Fliss, you seem hassled.”
“I’m not hassled,” I say with dignity. “I’m simply trying to be an adult in an adult situation— You’re looking at him again!” I jab at his arm. “Stop!”
“Who is he, exactly?”
“Ben’s oldest friend. A lawyer. Works at his company.” I shrug.
“So … is it a thing?”
“No. It’s not a thing. We just hooked up and then …”
“You unhooked.”
“Exactly.”
“He looks like a bundle of laughs,” says Richard, still surveying Lorcan critically. “I’m being sarcastic,” he adds after a pause.
“Yup.” I nod. “Got that.”
Lorcan looks up again and raises his eyebrows. The next minute he’s unbuckling his seat belt and coming over to where we’re sitting.
“Great,” I murmur. “Thanks, Richard. Hello.” I smile sweetly up at Lorcan. “Enjoying the flight?”
“It’s tremendous. I need to talk to you.” His dark eyes are opaque as they meet mine, and my heart jumps in trepidation.
“Right. OK. But maybe this isn’t the place—”