‘I’m sorry . . . I . . .’ he stuttered. ‘I’ll leave you to it.’
I quickly dressed in black leggings and one of Adam’s shirts, rolling up the sleeves as I walked into the living room. It occurred to me then that perhaps I’d subconsciously made a symbolic choice to show I was Adam’s girl.
‘So, what brings you here?’ I asked, as casually as I could.
‘I just thought I’d pop by,’ he said.
I walked over to the window. ‘You’ve not driven, have you?’ I couldn’t see his car in the street below.
‘No, I got a cab,’ he said.
‘All the way from Sevenoaks?’ I exclaimed.
He nodded.
‘Well, as I said, Adam’s not here, so I’m afraid it’s been a wasted journey.’
‘I’ve not come to see Adam.’
I poured myself a glass of red from the bottle on the kitchen countertop to calm myself.
‘So . . .’ I said, choosing to stay standing rather than sit on the sofa next to him.
‘I wanted to talk to you. Needed to talk to you.’
‘James, don’t,’ I said, walking around the kitchen island. It somehow felt safer with a metre of granite between us.
‘You need to know,’ he said, going to stand up.
I could feel my defences weakening. There was a part of me that wanted to hear what he had to say, but I wanted to close my ears off to it at the same time. I didn’t need any more confusion in my life. Adam and I had taken a huge step forward since I’d last seen James. If he told me how he felt, I feared I’d be taking two steps back again.
‘I think you ought to go,’ I said. I felt myself physically moving backwards.
‘Can you please listen to me for a minute?’ he said, reaching for my hand. ‘If you give me a chance, just for a few weeks, I will prove to you how happy I can make you.’ His piercing eyes stared at me intently.
‘You’re not being fair, James. I’m about to marry your brother. Does that not mean anything to you?’
‘But he won’t look after you the way I would.’
If I was honest with myself, he was probably right. James was the antithesis of everything that his brother stood for. Adam exuded confidence in any situation; he’d always be the first to introduce himself, take command in a restaurant, or pull his pants down during a rugby sing-song. That’s who Adam was, and I was well aware that if he wasn’t so forthright, we’d never have got together in the first place. James was reserved, more refined, and always seemed to consider what he was saying and doing before he did it. He’d still be listening to me, long past the point when Adam would have switched off. And he’d hold me up when, all around me, everything would be falling down.
His head was just inches away, his lips so close to mine that I could almost taste them. All I needed to do was close my eyes, and be transported to another place.
‘You deserve better,’ he murmured. ‘I promise I will never hurt you.’
I pulled back. For all his faults, I knew that Adam would never intentionally hurt me. Was James suggesting he would?
‘Adam’s good to me . . .’
I was startled by a noise on the landing, and turned to see Adam standing there, clearly the worse for wear. We both jumped back, as if we’d had an electric shock. I hadn’t even heard him come in.
‘Hey, hey, what’s going on here?’ he slurred, as he leant against the living-room door frame, loosening what looked to be an already loose tie.
‘I . . . we . . .’ I started, keeping my head down, trying to disguise the guilt I was sure would be written all over my face.
‘I’m about to win a bet,’ said James, reaching around my neck and pulling on my collar. ‘I’m reckoning this is my shirt. You must have nicked it when we were both staying at Mum’s over Christmas.’
‘It’s bloody not,’ said Adam, attempting to walk towards us in a straight line. ‘I’ll have you know that’s my Gant shirt.’
James leant in to take a peek, his breath hot on my neck. ‘Ha, Eton! Told you. That’s mine, you bloody thief.’
So, I was now wearing James’s shirt? The irony wasn’t lost on me.
‘Hey, babe,’ slurred Adam, giving me a wet kiss. I instinctively pulled back. His breath smelt of alcohol and kebabs, and he reeked of smoke.
‘What’s up, darling? Aren’t you pleased to see me?’
‘Of course I am,’ I laughed nervously, ‘but you stink. Have you been smoking?’ I’d be surprised if he had, as he knew it was one of my pet hates.
‘What? No, of course not.’ He smelt the sleeve of his suit jacket and looked at me nonplussed, as if that proved I’d imagined it.
He slung an arm carelessly around me and leant his bulk against my shoulder.
‘So, what are you doing here, J-boy?’ Adam asked, his voice getting louder.
I looked at James wide-eyed, willing him to have a plausible excuse, ready to offer.
‘I need to pick up the receipt for the rings from you,’ he said calmly.
Adam clumsily patted himself down with his free hand. The other was still hanging over my shoulder, weighing me down.
‘I haven’t got it, you took it,’ he said, looking confused. ‘I dishtinct—’ He pulled himself off me and crouched down on the floor, laughing. ‘Ahem,’ he said, clearing his throat. ‘I distinctly remember you taking it.’
‘Maybe you’re right,’ said James. ‘I’ve checked my wallet, but maybe it’s in my trouser pocket.’
‘That’s where it will be,’ said Adam, shouting the first word, then mumbling, almost inaudibly, the rest of the sentence.
James and I looked at each other and smiled resignedly. ‘And you thought you were drunk?’ I said.
‘Come on, big fella,’ he said to Adam, reaching down to him. ‘Let’s get you into bed.’
‘Only if you come with me.’ Adam laughed. Neither of us knew who he was talking to.
James pulled Adam up, and put his body weight underneath him.
I rushed to the bathroom and quickly unbuttoned the shirt I was wearing. I don’t know if I was surprised or not that the label clearly said ‘Gant’.
27
Five days before the wedding, Pammie called to ask if six more guests could be invited to the service. Four days before the wedding, she asked if she could stay at the hotel with me the night before. Three days before the wedding, she wanted the seating plan emailed over to her.
I said a resounding ‘no’ to everything.
‘She’s only trying to help,’ commented Adam, when I complained about her interference. ‘The poor woman can’t win.’
I looked witheringly at him, disappointed yet not remotely surprised. He’d made his position very clear. If I was honest with myself, I don’t think I expected any different.
True to form, Pammie had turned on the waterworks and played the innocent, when Adam had, apparently, taken her to task over lunch a couple of days ago. She claimed to have no idea why Charlotte and I fell out, and swore blind that any misgivings I had about her and her motives were widely misplaced. ‘All she wants, more than anything in the world, is to be your friend,’ Adam had said when he got home.
‘So, that’s it?’ I’d asked incredulously. ‘She says that, and you believe her? End of story?’
He’d shrugged. ‘What else am I supposed to do?’
‘Believe me,’ I’d said, before walking out.
The ‘family dinner’ was the start of our celebrations, a small, intimate affair, a time to be with our nearest and dearest before the craziness of the big day descended on us. If I had my way, it would just be my family, but I’m not selfish enough to deem my wishes any more important than Adam’s.
‘Do I look okay?’ I asked him, smoothing down the crêpe of my black dress, and then picking up a silk scarf.
‘Gorgeous,’ he said, before planting a kiss on my cheek.
‘You didn’t even look,’ I teased.
‘I don’t need to,’ he replied.
‘That was corny, even for you.’