night before the wedding. “Stop me running away,” he said with a grin. But there had been something in his voice, a slight catch. He’d been a bit odd altogether, actually, all evening: quiet, edgy, jumping whenever the phone rang. He’d left twice to take calls on his mobile. “Tamara,” he’d said both times when he came back.
Carol Weston had served a delicious dinner for the four of them—poached salmon followed by raspberries and cream—which they had eaten outside, burning copious candles to keep the insects at bay; Ray Weston had served some very nice chilled Muscadet, and proposed the toast to “the perfect couple. That’s you and Toby, Barney,” he said, smiling, and they had sat there, chatting easily until it was dark, reminiscing. But then Toby became increasingly silent, almost morose, and Carol and Ray went in to bed, with strict instructions to them both from Carol not to be late.
“We don’t want any hitches tomorrow, any hungover grooms.”
“Oh, for Christ’s sake!” Toby said, and then swiftly, apologetically, “Sorry, Mum. But do give me a bit of credit. We’ll just have a couple of quiet ones and then bed, Barney, eh?”
“Absolutely.”
They climbed out of the pool and sat, briefly cool, on the terrace at the back of the house.
“Quiet one then?” Toby said and, “Yes, great,” said Barney. He’d expected Toby to fetch more wine; was a little alarmed when he saw him come out of the house with a bottle of whisky and some tumblers.
“Tobes! You heard what your mum said.”
“Oh, don’t you start. There’s no nightcap like scotch. Neat scotch. Want some?”
Barney nodded.
“That’s better,” Toby said, taking a large gulp, then leaning back in his chair, studying his glass.
“Better? You’re not nervous, are you?”
“Well—a bit. Inevitable, really. Lesser men than me have run away.”
“Tobes. You wouldn’t.”
“Of course not. What, from a girl like Tamara? God, I’m lucky. So lucky.”
A second whisky followed the first; a silence; then Toby said, quite suddenly: “I’ve … well, I’ve got a bit of a problem, Barney. Actually. Been a bit of an idiot.”
“How? In what way?”
“I … Oh, shit, I should have told you ages ago. Well, weeks ago, anyway.”
He was staring into the darkness, his hands twisting.
“Toby, what is it; what have you done?”
“I’ve … well, I’ve made a complete fool of myself. With some girl.”
Barney stared at him in total silence for a moment, then said, “Fuck!”
“Well, exactly that. Yes. I … well, I got incredibly drunk one night with some friends round here. Anyway, we went to a club near Cirencester, and this girl was there. On a hen night. She lives in the next village, actually. Dead sexy, works for some local builder, you know the sort of thing.”
“Think so,” said Barney. He was feeling rather sick.
“Anyway I … well, I screwed her. I … gave her a lift home, in a cab. Well, it seemed a good idea at the time. When we got back to her place, she said why didn’t I come in for a nightcap, her parents were away for the night, and—well, one thing led to another.”
“Toby, you lunatic!”
“I know, I know. Anyway, I felt pretty bad in the morning, obviously, hoped she’d see it my way, just a bit of fooling around—she didn’t.”
“Oh, Tobes—”
“She knew where I lived, or rather where my parents lived,became a complete pest, always calling me, at work as well, on my mobile, actually turned up here once or twice. I … well, I tried to get rid of her, but it didn’t work. She got quite unpleasant, started accusing me of treating her like a tart—”
“Well—”
“I know, I know. God, what wouldn’t I give to have that time over again. Anyway, next thing is, last week she calls, says she’s pregnant.”
“Shit!”
“I tried to call her bluff, but … well, unfortunately, I … well, I left all that sort of thing to her; she said she was on the
Carol Weston had served a delicious dinner for the four of them—poached salmon followed by raspberries and cream—which they had eaten outside, burning copious candles to keep the insects at bay; Ray Weston had served some very nice chilled Muscadet, and proposed the toast to “the perfect couple. That’s you and Toby, Barney,” he said, smiling, and they had sat there, chatting easily until it was dark, reminiscing. But then Toby became increasingly silent, almost morose, and Carol and Ray went in to bed, with strict instructions to them both from Carol not to be late.
“We don’t want any hitches tomorrow, any hungover grooms.”
“Oh, for Christ’s sake!” Toby said, and then swiftly, apologetically, “Sorry, Mum. But do give me a bit of credit. We’ll just have a couple of quiet ones and then bed, Barney, eh?”
“Absolutely.”
They climbed out of the pool and sat, briefly cool, on the terrace at the back of the house.
“Quiet one then?” Toby said and, “Yes, great,” said Barney. He’d expected Toby to fetch more wine; was a little alarmed when he saw him come out of the house with a bottle of whisky and some tumblers.
“Tobes! You heard what your mum said.”
“Oh, don’t you start. There’s no nightcap like scotch. Neat scotch. Want some?”
Barney nodded.
“That’s better,” Toby said, taking a large gulp, then leaning back in his chair, studying his glass.
“Better? You’re not nervous, are you?”
“Well—a bit. Inevitable, really. Lesser men than me have run away.”
“Tobes. You wouldn’t.”
“Of course not. What, from a girl like Tamara? God, I’m lucky. So lucky.”
A second whisky followed the first; a silence; then Toby said, quite suddenly: “I’ve … well, I’ve got a bit of a problem, Barney. Actually. Been a bit of an idiot.”
“How? In what way?”
“I … Oh, shit, I should have told you ages ago. Well, weeks ago, anyway.”
He was staring into the darkness, his hands twisting.
“Toby, what is it; what have you done?”
“I’ve … well, I’ve made a complete fool of myself. With some girl.”
Barney stared at him in total silence for a moment, then said, “Fuck!”
“Well, exactly that. Yes. I … well, I got incredibly drunk one night with some friends round here. Anyway, we went to a club near Cirencester, and this girl was there. On a hen night. She lives in the next village, actually. Dead sexy, works for some local builder, you know the sort of thing.”
“Think so,” said Barney. He was feeling rather sick.
“Anyway I … well, I screwed her. I … gave her a lift home, in a cab. Well, it seemed a good idea at the time. When we got back to her place, she said why didn’t I come in for a nightcap, her parents were away for the night, and—well, one thing led to another.”
“Toby, you lunatic!”
“I know, I know. Anyway, I felt pretty bad in the morning, obviously, hoped she’d see it my way, just a bit of fooling around—she didn’t.”
“Oh, Tobes—”
“She knew where I lived, or rather where my parents lived,became a complete pest, always calling me, at work as well, on my mobile, actually turned up here once or twice. I … well, I tried to get rid of her, but it didn’t work. She got quite unpleasant, started accusing me of treating her like a tart—”
“Well—”
“I know, I know. God, what wouldn’t I give to have that time over again. Anyway, next thing is, last week she calls, says she’s pregnant.”
“Shit!”
“I tried to call her bluff, but … well, unfortunately, I … well, I left all that sort of thing to her; she said she was on the
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