The Best of Times by Penny Vincenzi Page A

pill—”
    “You idiot,” said Barney, “you total idiot.”
    “I know. I know . I can’t explain it. I’ve never done anyting like that. Ever. Well, you’d know if I had. No secrets from you, Barney. I s’pose … I suppose it was a combination of last-fling time, nerves about … well, about being married—”
    “You mean to Tamara?” said Barney quietly.
    “Yes. At rock bottom. I do love her—but she’s quite high-maintenance. Bit of a daunting prospect. Anyway—that’s not an excuse. I … well, it was an appalling thing to do. I know that.”
    “So—what’s happened?” It seemed best to stick to practicalities.
    “I told her to have a test, all that sort of thing. Anyway, she’d gone all quiet. I thought it was OK, but … well, anyway, she called me tonight. That was what those calls were. She wants some money. So she can have a termination. She wants to have it done properly, as she puts it. At a private hospital.”
    “Well, tell her she can’t.”
    “Barney, I’m in no position to talk to her like that. Even if none of it’s true, I daren’t risk it. You know what Tamara’s like—”
    “Well—yes. I do. But—”
    “Anyway she wants a couple of grand.”
    “Blimey.”
    “Moreover she wants it tomorrow morning. In cash.”
    Barney felt sick, oddly scared himself.
    “You can’t give in to that sort of thing,” he said finally.
    “Barney, I have to. Otherwise, she’s threatened to come to the church. It wouldn’t look good if she turned up at my smart society wedding, as she called it, would it?”
    “No,” said Barney, after a pause, “no, it wouldn’t be great.”
    “So—I’ve got to give her a grand in the morning. In cash. Which I don’t happen to have about me. Do you?”
    “Nope. Got about a hundred, but—”
    “I’ll have to go to a bank, get it out. The most I can get on my card is four hundred quid.”
    “I can get that too. But—”
    “No, no, Barney, it’s my problem. And then I’ll have to take it to her. To her parents’ house, fifteen, twenty minutes away. So—”
    “Toby, you do realise it may not stop at this, don’t you? That’s the whole thing about blackmail.”
    “Yeah, but whatever she does next, I’ll be married, the wedding’ll be safely over, Tamara won’t have to be confronted by it—literally. I’ll deal with it somehow. Anyway, I’ve got a feeling she’ll back off. Meanwhile—busy morning.”
    “Yeah. Well, look, surely I can deal with that. I can get the money; I can take it to her—”
    “No, that’s just too complicated. I’ll do it. I should be back here by ten thirty, eleven, latest. Then I’ll just change and we can go. We might be a bit late for the ushers’ lunch, but that won’t matter.”
    “We need to leave by eleven, really, for that, mate.”
    “Well, maybe we’ll have to drive faster. Oh, God. What a total fucking idiot I’ve been. Let’s have another of those, Barney. Then we’d better turn in. Busy day tomorrow.”
    He nodded at the whisky bottle; Barney poured the drinks out, his hand shaking slightly, wondering how he could possibly have got Toby so wrong. He’d have trusted him with his life, always regarded himself as the slightly wild card. And now …
    • • •
    Laura was just drifting off to sleep when the phone rang.
    “Darling?”
    “Oh, Jonathan, hello. How did it go?”
    “Oh—pretty well, I think. Yes. Jack seemed pretty pleased.”
    “I bet he was. I bet you were wonderful.”
    “Hardly. Anyway, you’re all right, are you?”
    “I’m absolutely fine, darling. Just a bit hot. But we got all the uniforms, then I took them out to supper—”
    “Let me guess. T.G.I.’s.”
    “Correct.”
    “God, I don’t know how you can face those places.”
    “Well, the children love them. And I love the children.”
    “So do I. But … well, you’re a saint. They’re lucky to have you. I’m lucky to have you.”
    “And I’m lucky to have you.”
    “Well—as long as