Page 12 of Wedding Games
Fuck’s sake!
‘Well—’ Barbara began.
‘Arnold!’ exclaimed Brad. ‘You didn’t finish your story! Where does your grand romance with Mary come in?’
‘Yes,’ added Rory quickly. ‘I don’t think I’ve ever heard the full tale.’
Arnold was looking between Mary and Barbara as if watching an unstable nuclear reactor about to go critical. He smiled broadly, but it didn’t reach his eyes.
‘It was the hottest summer Scotland had seen for years, and the streams were dry. I was reduced to digging for water and eating my prey raw, but it wasn’t enough.’
Arnold paused. Brad’s hand was a blur as he made notes in shorthand on the pad Clive had given him.
‘I became weak and delirious.’
‘Yeah!’ Brad exhaled.
‘I saw visions.’
Brad took a sharp intake of breath. ‘Silkies? Wulvers?’ His pen trembled in his hand. ‘The Black Dog?’
Arnold shook his head. ‘I wish. These were worse.’ He took a big mouthful of venison, chewing happily as Brad waited. ‘My visions were of,’ Arnold swallowed, ‘food.’
‘Food?’
‘Mainly puddings. One moment a trifle would be sitting on a clump of heather, the next, poof! It was gone. It was torture. My lowest moment was when a spotted dick vanished as soon as I touched it.’
‘Intense,’ Brad breathed. ‘What’s a spotted dick?’
‘It’s a steamed pudding made with suet and currants,’ Arnold replied. ‘Absolutely delicious and best served with custard. I’ll make you one if you want to try it?’
Brad reached across the table and high-fived him. ‘Yeah, man! That would be sick!’
Rory signalled Clive to bring out the next course. Even though Brad and Arnold had not yet finished eating, Clive and his team cleared their plates and placed dessert in front of everyone bar Rory.
‘Cranachan,’ said Clive. ‘With raspberries from the community garden.’
‘Ooh!’ said Arnold. ‘It’s like a trifle, but without the Lady Fingers.’
‘Lady Fingers?’ asked Brad.
‘Sponge finger biscuits,’ replied Arnold. ‘You also use them in tiramisu.’
‘Can you make me that as well?’ asked Brad.
‘Tiramisu? Or trifle?’
‘Both?’
Arnold smiled. ‘It would be my pleasure. A good pudding is what made me the man I am today.’
Barbara snorted and Mary took a big breath.
‘Arnold!’ Rory interrupted. ‘You spotted Willie?’
‘I thought it was Dick?’ said Brad. ‘Is Spotted Willy another pudding?’
Fuck my life. ‘No,’ Rory continued. ‘Mary’s uncle, Willie, found Arnold up on the glen and carried him back to Mary’s mother’s house. That’s where Arnold met Mary.’
