“Jesus.” Ben takes a sip of beer. “Lighten up.” He turns up the volume on his iPad, and I flinch. Does he really like that music?
“Let’s do another.” I try to control my impatience. “What’s my favorite alcoholic drink?”
“Smirnoff Ice.” He grins.
“Funny,” I say politely.
No wonder he didn’t make it as a comedian. The bitchy thought comes from nowhere. Oops. I clench my lips together, praying my expression isn’t readable. I didn’t mean it, of course I didn’t.…
Richard would have made an effort. The even bigger thought flashes through my head like a powerful bird in flight, leaving me breathless in its wake. I blink at my piece of paper, feeling hot about the face. I’m not going to think about Richard. No. Absolutely not.
Richard would have thought Couples’ Quiz was ridiculous too, but, the difference is, he’d have made an effort, because if it mattered to me it would matter to him—
Stop it.
Like the time he did charades at my office party and everyone loved him—
LISTEN UP, STUPID BRAIN. Richard is OUT of my life. Right now he’s probably fast asleep on the other side of the world in some glossy San Francisco apartment block, having forgotten all about me, and I’m with my husband—repeat, husband—
“The Jeweled Path? Are you serious?”
I’ve been wrangling so hard with my thoughts, I didn’t notice Ben pick up the crib sheet I prepared for him earlier. Now he’s staring at it incredulously.
“What?”
“The Jeweled Path can’t be your favorite book.” He looks up from the paper. “Please tell me you’re joking.”
“I’m not joking,” I say, nettled. “Have you read it? It’s brilliant.”
“I wasted thirty valuable seconds of my life downloading it and skimming the first chapter.” He pulls a face. “I want those thirty seconds back.”
“You obviously missed the point,” I say, offended. “It’s really insightful if you read it carefully.”
“It’s a pile of new-age shit.”
“Not according to eighty million readers.” I’m glaring at him.
“Eighty million morons.”
“Well, what’s your favorite book, then?” I grab the piece of paper to see, but my gaze is halted. I clap a hand over my mouth in shock and raise my eyes to his. “That’s not how you vote?”
“Don’t you?”
“No!”
We’re staring at each other as though we’ve discovered we’re aliens. I swallow twice, then look at the sheet again.
“OK! Right.” I’m trying not to give away how disconcerted I feel. “So … so obviously we need to recap on a few basics. Voting preference we’ve covered … favorite pasta?”
“Depends on the sauce,” he says promptly. “Stupid question.”
“Well, I like tagliatelle. You say tagliatelle too. Favorite TV show?”
“Dirk and Sally.”
“Dirk and Sally, definitely.” He grins, and the atmosphere lifts a shade.
“Favorite episode?” I can’t help asking.
“Let me think.” His face lights up. “The one with the lobsters. Classic.”
“No, the wedding,” I object. “It has to be the wedding. ‘With this Smith and Wesson 59, I thee wed.’ ”
I watched that episode about ninety-five times. It was Dirk and Sally’s second wedding (after they’d divorced and left the force and been recruited back in season four), and it was the best TV wedding ever.
“No, the kidnap double bill.” Ben has sat up in his hammock and is hugging his knees. “That was epic. Hey, listen. Listen.” His face brightens. “We’ll do it as Dirk and Sally.”
“What?” I stare at him, puzzled. “Do what?”
“The quiz! I can’t remember any of this shit.” He waves my crib sheet at me. “But I know what Sally likes and you know what Dirk likes. We’ll be them, not us.”
He can’t be serious. Is he serious? A giggle rises out of me before I can help myself.
“I mean, we can’t do any worse, can we?” Ben adds. “I know everything about Sally. Test me.”
“OK, what shampoo does she use?” I challenge him.
Ben screws up his face to think. “I know this.… It’s Silvikrin. It’s in the opening sequence. What’s Dirk’s favorite drink?”
“Bourbon straight up,” I say without missing a beat. “Easy. When’s Sally’s birthday?”
“June twelfth, and Dirk always gets her white roses. When’s yours?” he asks, looking alarmed. “It’s not soon, is it?”
He’s right. We know the marriage of a fictional TV detective couple better than we know our own. It’s so ridiculous I can’t help grinning at him.
“OK, Dirk, it’s a deal.” I look up to see Nico approaching, flanked by Georgios and Hermes. The Three Stooges, as Ben’s started calling them. We’re in the most secluded, hidden spot in the garden, but even so, they managed to track us down. They’ve been hovering round us endlessly all afternoon, offering drinks, snacks, and even appearing with the most unflattering Ikonos-branded sun hats in case we were getting overheated.
“Mr. and Mrs. Parr, I believe you are entered for the Couples’ Quiz? It’s beginning in a few minutes, down on the beach,” Nico addresses us pleasantly. He’s changed into a jacket with glittery braid, which makes me wonder if he’s quizmaster.
“We were just coming.”
“Excellent! Georgios will assist you.”
We don’t need bloody assistance, I want to retort, but I bite my lip and smile.
“Lead the way.”
“Bring it on, Sally,” mutters Ben in my ear, and I stifle a giggle. Maybe this will be fun after all.
They’ve really gone to town. There’s a wooden platform set up on the beach, decorated with a skirt of red foil strips. Clusters of red-heart helium balloons are anchored at each side. A massive banner reads COUPLES’ QUIZ, and a three-piece band is playing “Love Is All Around.” Melissa is pacing about on the sand in her orange caftan, followed two steps behind by a sandy-haired man in Vilebrequin trunks and an aqua polo shirt. I assume he’s her husband, as they’re both wearing prominent badges reading COUPLE ONE, along with their printed names.
“Stella McCartney,” she’s saying furiously as we approach. “You know it’s Stella McCartney. Oh! Hi! You made it!”
“Ready to do battle?” says Ben, with a mischievous glint.
“It’s just a bit of fun!” she replies, almost aggressively. “Isn’t it, Matt?”
Matt is holding The Couples’ Quiz Official Question Book, I suddenly notice in disbelief. Did they bring that with them?
“Oh, we happened to have that,” says Melissa, flushing as she sees me register it. “Put it away, Matt. It’s too late now, anyway,” she adds to him in a savage undertone. “I really think you could have made more effort.… Hello! You must be the other competitors! Just a bit of fun!” She greets an older-looking couple who are approaching hand in hand, looking a bit perplexed by the whole thing. They have graying hair, coordinated beige slacks, and short-sleeved Hawaiian cotton shirts, and the man has socks on with sandals.
“Mr. and Mrs. Parr, your badge.” Nico descends and gives us our COUPLE THREE badges. “Mr. and Mrs. Kenilworth, here are your name badges.”
“Are you on honeymoon?” I can’t help asking the woman, who it turns out, is called Carol.
“Bless you, no!” She’s fiddling with her lapel. “We won this trip at our bridge-club auction. Not our kind of thing, really, but you have to show willing, and we do enjoy a quiz.…”
Nico ushers all six of us onto the platform, and we survey the audience, which is a middle-size crowd of guests in sarongs and T-shirts, with cocktails in their hands.
“Ladies and gentlemen!” Nico has switched on his radio mike, and his voice booms round the beach. “Welcome to the hotel’s very own Couples’ Quiz!”
Actually this is quite fun. It’s just like it is on the telly. All of us wom
en are led away to a nearby gazebo and given headphones which blast music into our ears, while the men answer questions onstage. Then we swap places and it’s our turn. As I write down my answers, I feel suddenly nervous. Did Ben stick to the plan? Did he really answer as Dirk? What if he chickened out?
Well, too late now. I scribble my final answer and hand in the paper.
“And now!” Nico says to an accompanying drumroll from the band. “Let us reunite our couples! No conferring!” The audience applauds as the men come back onto the stage. The men are on one side of Nico and the women on the other, and I can see Melissa trying to attract Matt’s attention while he resolutely ignores her.
“First question! What would your wife never go out without? Gentlemen, please answer clearly into the microphone. Couple One?”
“Handbag,” says Matt promptly into the microphone.
“And your wife said …” Nico consults the paper. “Handbag. Ten points! Couple Two, same question?”
“Fresh breath mints,” says Tim Kenilworth after some deliberation.
“And your wife said … Life Savers. Close enough.” Nico nods. “Ten points! And Couple Three?”
“Easy,” says Ben laconically. “She never leaves without her Smith and Wesson 59.”
“Is that a gun?” says Melissa, looking astonished. “A gun?”
“And your wife said …” Nico consults my writing. “My Smith and Wesson 59. Congratulations, ten points!” He turns to me, his eyebrows raised. “You don’t have it with you now, I hope?”
“I never go anywhere without it.” I twinkle back at him.
“A gun?” persists Melissa. “Are you serious? Matt, did you hear that?”
“Next question!” announces Nico. “You have no food in the larder. Where do you head for a spontaneous meal out? Gentlemen, please answer again. First, Couple One.”
“Er … fish and chips?” says Matt uncertainly.
“Fish and chips?” Melissa glares at him. “Fish and chips?”
“Well, it’s quick, easy.…” Matt quails at her expression. “Why, what did you put?”
“I put Le Petit Bistro!” she says furiously. “We always go there when we want a quick bite. You know we do!”
“I sometimes go for fish and chips,” mumbles Matt rebelliously, but I’m not sure anyone hears him except me.
“Zero points,” says Nico sympathetically. “Couple Two?”
“The pub,” says Tim, after about half an hour’s thought. “I’d say we’d go to the pub.”
“And your wife said …” Nico squints at the paper. “Madame, my apologies, I cannot read your writing.”
“Well, I didn’t know what to put.” Carol looks perturbed. “We never do run out of food. We’d always have a soup in the freezer, wouldn’t we, love?”
“True enough.” Tim nods. “We make it up in batches, you see. Every Sunday during Midsomer Murders. Ham and pea.”
“Or chickpea and chorizo,” Carol reminds him.
“Or plain old tomato.”
“And we freeze the rolls too,” explains Tim, “so it only takes a few minutes in the microwave.”
“Whole grain and crusty white,” puts in Carol. “We do half and half, usually.…” She trails off into silence.
Everyone seems slightly stunned by this domestic catalog, including Nico, but at last he springs back to life.
“Thank you for your wonderfully thorough answer.” He beams at Carol and Tim. “But, alas! Zero points. Couple Three?”
“We go to Dill’s Diner now,” I say. “Is that what he put?”
“Sorry,” begins Nico, “but that is not the answer—”
“Wait!” I interrupt, as a relieved smile spreads across Melissa’s face. “I haven’t finished. We go to Dill’s Diner now, but we used to go to Jerry and Jim’s Steakhouse, until it was blown up by the mob.” I glance over at Ben, who gives an imperceptible nod.
“Ah,” says Nico, peering at the paper. “Yes. Your husband wrote, We went to Jerry and Jim’s till Carlo Dellalucci’s lot blew it up; now we go to Dill’s Diner.”
“Where’s that?” demands Melissa. “Where do you live?”
“Apartment Forty-three-D, West Eightieth Street,” we say in unison. It’s part of the opening titles.
“Oh, New York,” she says, as though she’s saying, Oh, the rubbish dump.
“Blew up, as in exploded?” chimes in Matt, looking impressed. “Was anyone killed?”
“Chief of police,” I say, with a terse nod. “And the ten-year-old daughter he’d only just met, who died in his arms.”
It was the finale to season one. Absolutely major telly. I almost want to recommend it to them all. Except that would slightly defeat the point.
“Question three!” Nico exclaims. “Now the competition heats up!”
By question eight we’ve covered season one, season two, and the Christmas special. Melissa and Matt are ten points behind, and Melissa’s looking more and more tetchy.
“This can’t be true,” she says, as Ben finishes describing our “most memorable day together,” which involved an armed siege, a police chase through the Central Park Zoo, and blowing out the candles on his birthday cake in a jail cell (long story). “I dispute these answers.” She raps on the microphone as though it’s a gavel and she’s a judge. “Nobody has a life like this!”
“Dirk and Sally do!” I say, trying not to giggle as I meet Ben’s eye.
“Who’re Dirk and Sally?” she demands at once, looking from face to face as though we’re tricking her in some new way.
“Our pet names for each other,” says Ben blandly. “And may I ask what exactly you’re suggesting? That we learned an entire set of fake answers especially for this competition? Do we look like tragic losers?”
“Come on!” Her eyes spark indignantly. “Are you telling me your first date was really at a mortuary?”
“Are you telling me yours was really at the Ivy?” he counters at once. “No one goes to the Ivy for a first date unless they already know they’ll be so bored they’ll need to do some people-watching. Sorry,” he adds politely to Matt. “I’m sure you had a great time.”
I can’t stop laughing. Melissa’s getting crosser and crosser, and I don’t blame her. More and more people have joined the audience, and they’re loving it too.
“Question nine!” Nico tries to get control of the situation. “Where is the most unusual place you have had … amorous relations? Couple Two, would you like to answer first?”
“Well!” Carol is growing pinker and pinker. “I wasn’t sure about this question. Very personal.”
“Indeed,” says Nico sympathetically.
“I believe the correct word is …” She pauses, wriggling awkwardly. “Fellatio.”
There’s an explosion of laughter from the audience, and I clamp my lips together so that I don’t join in. Carol gave Tim a blow job? No way. I cannot imagine that in a million years.
“Your husband put A cottage in Anglesey,” says Nico, grinning widely. “Zero points, I am afraid, dear lady. Although full marks for trying.”
Carol looks as though she wants to spontaneously combust.
“By ‘place,’ ” she begins, “I thought you meant … I thought …”
“Indeed.” He nods sympathetically. “Couple One?”
“Hyde Park,” says Melissa promptly, as though she’s a child in class.
“Correct! Ten points! Couple Three?”
I had to think about this one. There are a few options. I just hope Ben remembered the episode.
“The boardwalk at Coney Island.” As I look at Ben’s face, I know I got it wrong.
“Alas! Your husband wrote, On the district attorney’s desk.”
“The district attorney’s desk?” Melissa looks livid. “Are you kidding me?”
“Zero points!” Nico chimes in hurriedly. “And now we reach the climax of our quiz. All rests on the final question. The most personal, intimate question of all.” He pauses dramati
cally. “When did you first realize you were in love with your wife?”
An expectant hush comes over the audience, and there’s a low drumroll from the band.
“Couple Three?” says Nico.
“It was when we were tied together to a railroad track with a train approaching,” says Ben reminiscently. “She reached over, kissed me, and said, ‘If it ends here, I’ll be happy.’ And then she freed us both with her nail file.”
“Correct!”
“A railroad track?” Melissa looks from face to face. “Can I appeal that?”
I beam at Ben and raise my fist in a victory salute. But he doesn’t respond; his eyes are out of focus as though he’s still remembering.
“Couple Two?”
“Wait!” says Ben suddenly. “I haven’t finished my answer. That time on the railroad track—that’s when I realized I was in love with my wife. But the moment I realized I loved her …” He glances over at me with an unreadable look. “That was quite another time.”
“What’s the difference?” says Melissa petulantly. “Are you trying to wind us all up again?”
“You fall in and out of love,” says Ben. “But when you really love someone … it’s forever.”
Is that a line from the show? I don’t recognize it. I’m feeling a bit confused here. What’s he talking about?
“The day I realized I loved my wife was right here on the island of Ikonos, fifteen years ago.” He leans toward the microphone and his voice rises, now resonant. “I’d had the flu. She nursed me all night. She was my guardian angel. I still remember that sweet voice telling me I’d be OK. Now I realize I’ve loved her since that day, though I didn’t always know it.”
He finishes to silence. Everyone seems thunderstruck. Then a girl from the audience whoops appreciatively, and it’s as though the spell is broken, and applause breaks out, louder than ever.
I’m so gripped, I barely hear the others give their answers. He was talking about us. Not Dirk and Sally: us. Ben and Lottie. A warm glow has stolen over me, and I can’t stop smiling. He’s loved me for fifteen years. He’s stood up and said it in public. Nothing so romantic has ever happened to me, ever.
The only tiny, minuscule niggle is …
Wedding Night Page 24