Page 36 of Behind Frenemy Lines

Charles scrunched up his forehead, looking at me. “You wouldn’t mind?”

“I’m Asian. It’s not the first time I’ve been to the wedding of someone I don’t know, let’s put it that way.”

Plus, I owed Charles. He’d been so supportive about the whole Arthur situation.

And—the thought came despite myself—if I shared photos of myself at a wedding with an attractive guy on social media, maybe Tom would hear about them, even if he didn’t see them. We’d blocked each other after the breakup, by mutual agreement.

No, what was I thinking? I couldn’t share photos of myself with an attractive guy on social media. Tom probably wouldn’t hear about them, but I knew who definitely would. My one million aunties, uncles, cousins, former neighbours, ex-schoolmates, old teachers, and everyone they knew. There was a global network of spies I was only ever two steps away from stumbling into. They would guarantee that the next thing I knew, Amma would be on the phone asking, “Who is this Chinese boy ah, you put the photo online? Is he your friend?”

Amma had been more broken up about Tom dumping me than even I was. Despite my first-class education and good job, she seemed to think the fact I was unmarried at thirty-four meant I was a failure destined for a ruinous old age.

It would be feeble-spirited of me to try to use Charles to fend her off. And it wasn’t a long-term solution anyway. What was going to happen when Amma started asking when she was going to get to meet Charles?

“What’s the dress code?” I said.

“Oh, it’s very open-ended. There will be a range of costumes.” Odd choice of language, but presumably Charles meant “outfits.” He went on, “I’ll be dressed to match the wedding theme, but standard summer wedding attire would be fine for you. But are you sure? You don’t have to come. I’m sure it’ll be fine with Loretta’s mum. Or—well, even if it isn’t, it won’t necessarily be because of this. There’s no point trying to entertain all of my aunt’s whims. I’ve told Loretta.”

“I’d like to come,” I said. “I love weddings. So long as you don’t mind the company.”

“It would be nice to have you there,” said Charles.

He met my eyes, then looked away. My cheeks warmed.

“Good,” I said.

“Thank you. It’ll mean a lot to Loretta. And she’ll be very excited about meeting—” At this point Charles was briefly overcome with a coughing fit. “About getting married, I mean,” he said, when it had passed.

“All very exciting,” I said. “I’m looking forward to it.”

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

Charles

Kept it low-key,the morning of Loretta’s wedding. Went to gym, had tuna on rice, drafted a witness statement. Wanted to get it done while the witness interviews I’d conducted during the week were fresh in my mind.

Weird going about my day without being trolled about my lunch and working at the weekend (“How can you live like this, Charles?”). Loretta and Hayley had gone over to the hotel in Mayfair the night before. They’d booked two separate hotel rooms for the wedding party to get ready in, plus a suite for the two of them for their wedding night.

Hayley and her parents paying; they’re minted. Loretta says she’s looking forward to being a trophy wife: “It’ll be a change from being a trophy cousin.”

Speaking of trophies, time to get dressed.

Had a qualm when I opened the wardrobe and saw my suit hanging in it. Took a deep breath and grabbed it, along with the accessory I’d bought to go with it.

Got contact lenses, too, so I could forgo my spectacles. Never worn contacts before. Had to get a special prescription. But they were necessary for the look. Am going to be judged by people who will notice any incorrect detail, however minor.

Almost lost my nerve when I saw myself in my getup in the mirror, accessory in hand. Looked a right wally.

Not that I was going to stand out on the Tube. People get on with much stranger things. Saw a bloke carrying a life-size Dalek on the Jubilee line once. I was merely going to look like a fitness enthusiast, which, after all, I am.

Still, I might have got an Uber, if I had any money. Reviewed my outgoings that morning to see where I could make savings. Gym membership was the biggest recurring expense, after mortgage and groceries. But unluckily, or luckily, I paid for the year up front. Can’t cancel till next March.

It’ll be all right once I’m paid at the end of the month, but Ba and his creditors will have to wait for the next£25,000. Would be easier to get it together if I broke into my ISA, but that’s a last resort, in event of emergency.

Ba needing money from me not an emergency. Just a fact of life.

Decent of Kriya to say she’d come to the wedding. Agreed we’d meet at Regent’s Park station so we could walk to the hotel together. Glanced at my phone before leaving the flat, to check she hadn’t texted to change plans.

Nothing from Kriya. But there was a text, from a number I didn’t know.

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