Page 66 of Husband Material
Cuppas were duly provided. A dubious advantage of having worked with the same pack of misfits for more than five yearswas that everybody knew how everybody else liked their tea. Of course none of us ever actually bothered to put that knowledge into practice, but I preferred to think it was sort of an unspoken pact we had, like the opposite of buying a round at the bar. I won’t complain if you put too much milk in if you don’t complain that I let it stew too long.
We dumped our coats in the hall and our bags under the stairs, then settled down in the sitting room to dry off. Whoever Rhys’s friend was, he’d done well for himself because he’d wound up with a cosy little cottage in the borders, with an inglenook fireplace, exposed beams, and tastefully chosen furniture. I flopped down in an armchair with Oliver sitting in front of me, his back resting against my knees.
“I admit,” I said, “it was tough getting here but this is pretty okay.”
“You’ve got to realise”—Rhys turned to Ana with onen—“that ‘pretty okay’ is about the closest Luc ever gets to being nice about anything.”
Ana with onenmade an oh-that-makes-sense kind of noise that I’d have been offended by if it hadn’t been totally fair.
“What does this Charlie guy do, anyway?” I asked.
“He’sinsomething,” explained Rhys, in a not-very-explanatory sort of way.
“Broadmoor?” suggested Barbara Clench, who was occupied with Gabriel. As far as I could tell, Gabriel’s role in their marriage basically involved standing around, looking decorative, being disproportionately into Barbara, and letting her do most of the talking.
Rhys shook his head. “Consulting, I think.”
I sipped my tea and did my best to enjoy the atmosphere. We were, after all, in a nice house, and listening to rain drumming on the windows was always relaxing. “Still,” I said, “it’s ashame Miffy’s dad couldn’t have been earl of somewhere more convenient.”
Barbara nodded. If she was going to keep being on my side about things, I was going to need to see a doctor because something was clearly wrong with me. “Yes. I hope you’ll be more considerate when you’re picking a venue foryourwedding.”
“Our wedding?” I asked.
Rhys rolled his eyes. “Oh, not you as well. I thought it was only Alex who forgot he was getting married.”
“No, I remember I’m getting married,” I began, and then the realisation crept up on me that this conversation was about to go to a very uncomfortable place. “I just wasn’t sure what you meant about a considerate venue.”
“Well, you’ve got to admit, Luc,” said Rhys, “it’s been a lovely trip but itwasa bit of a palaver.”
Definitely going to an uncomfortable place. “Yes, I–I agree with that. It’s just that our wedding isn’t necessarily… We’re not going to necessarily…”
“You’re both local, though, aren’t you?” observed Rhys. “To London, I mean, not to here. So I’m assuming you’ll be having the ceremony somewhere everybody can get to easily.”
“Yeees…” This wasn’t going well. “For everybody who’sinvited. It’s just…”
“It’s just we haven’t discussed the guest list in detail,” said Oliver, who was always way better at being diplomatic than I was. “And a lot of the venues we’re looking at are rather small.”
Even though Oliver had been the one to say it—or rather imply it strongly enough that they got the hint—they all turned to me.
“I hope”—there was a genuine tremor in Rhys Jones Bowen’s voice—“that you are not suggesting what I think you are suggesting.”
I squirmed. “Umm…”
Rhys already had his phone out. “Hello, Rhystocrats,” he wassaying, “this is a bit of a… Well, I’ve just had a bit of a shock. As you all know, my friend and colleague Luc O’Donnell is getting married soon—”
“Did you…” I seized on the opportunity to claim the moral high ground. “Did you announce my wedding on social media without consulting me?”
“Don’t you try to talk your way out of this. The Rhystocrats are going to want to know why you think we’re not good enough for your wedding.”
“I don’t think we’d put it quite like that…” I tried.
Barbara Clench was glaring at me, which at least felt familiar. “Howwouldyou put it?”
This one seemed like an easy answer. “Well, in your case, I would probably say, ‘We hate each other so I didn’t think you’d want to come.’”
A deathly silence fell over the room. There was a tiny, tiny chance thatwe both hate each other, rightwasn’t the most tactful thing to say when you’d just driven several hours to attend a coworker’s wedding.
“I.…” For a while Barbara couldn’t say anything else. Eventually she managed, “I never thought…”
