EX Files Page 10

  Jean, Derek, Alice, and Mark all smiled as he said it, assuming they were watching the start of a wonderful brother and sister-in-law relationship. But Faye knew it was a loaded remark, and that the ammunition behind it might be deadly to her future.

  “Yes, that’s right.” She kept her smile in place, but her cheeks were stinging with humiliation. “It’s wonderful to meet you. Mark has told me so much about you.” Clichés were all she could muster right now.

  “Likewise.” His voice was clipped. “In fact, I feel I know you extremely well already.”

  The panic had now become full-blown nausea as the reality of the situation sank in. She had almost slept with another man the weekend before her wedding, and now it turned out that he had been her fiancé’s brother. Things couldn’t be any worse.

  An awkward silence descended as the five stood in a circle, the others evidently expecting Faye and Tony to chat. But he was silent and Faye felt far too nervous to risk any further conversation, in case it prompted him to spill the beans. All she could think about was moving away.

  Eventually Mark broke the lull. “Well, it’s dinner in a few minutes, so I hope you’re all hungry.”

  “Oooh, yes,” chorused Jean and Derek. Tony said nothing.

  Seeing her chance, Faye grabbed it with both hands. “I’m sorry to be rude, but I have to find the loo before we sit down.” She gave them all a weak smile. “Will you excuse me?”

  With her head down, she rushed through the guests to the double doors, anxious not to get into conversation. She had to go somewhere private and quiet—she needed time to think.

  Five minutes ago she’d been relaxed and happy, looking forward to her big day. Now she felt breathless and claustrophobic, as if the walls were closing in.

  9 p.m.

  Just as the clock above the ornate mantelpiece chimed nine times, a waiter appeared at the doors that led through to the dining room. “Dinner is served.”

  Faye, having composed herself after a brief spell in the loo, walked back across the room to Mark. “Hello, darling.” She smiled, studying his face for any sign that he’d been delivered a bombshell in her absence, but there was none.

  She noticed her hands were shaking and interlinked them behind her back. All she wanted was for Mark to envelop her in a hug and tell her everything would be all right. But as he didn’t know that everything was going horribly wrong, why would he?

  “Shall we?” he said, crooking his elbow for her to hold.

  They led the way into the dining room, which was decked out in blue and gold, with a vast table centerpiece made from candles and lilies. Each place was laid with ornate silver, crystal glasses, and a card with each guest’s name on it, indicating where they should sit. The ceiling lighting was muted, and opaque tea-lights gave the room a subdued, cozily intimate feel.

  Faye had spent hours, if not days, agonizing over where to place people, and especially over who should sit next to her: she wanted some fun on the night before her wedding. Trouble was, there were plenty of bores and not enough witty raconteurs. In the end, she’d settled on Adam to her left and Derek to her right; she found Mark’s father slightly dull but tolerable.

  Mark was at the other end of the table, with the safe sandwich of Jean to his left and Alice to his right. She had made damn sure he was nowhere near Kate.

  As he was an unknown quantity, Faye had placed Tony between Jenna and Alice, but after mulling over the matter in the ladies’, she had a better idea. She wanted to talk to him privately, and perhaps a noisy dinner table would be the perfect place to do it without arousing suspicion.

  Striking a teaspoon against her champagne glass, she waited a few seconds until everyone was looking in her direction.

  “Last minute reshuffle, folks,” she trilled. “Tony, you swap places with Derek and come and sit next to me.” She patted the back of the chair next to her. “It’ll give me a chance to get to know my future brother-in-law a little better.”

  She gave him the full benefit of her best 120-watt smile, but he glowered at her, his mouth set. The same mouth that had pressed her against the bedroom wall the previous weekend.

  Derek stood up and started to walk round the table, but Tony held up his hand. “No, thanks, I’ll stay here,” he said crisply. “Jenna and I have a lot to talk about.”

  The room fell silent. Everyone looked down the table towards Faye, but she didn’t say a word, struggling once again to control the panic she could feel building inside.

  Tony cleared his throat. “In fact, why don’t you sit there, Mark?” he said, looking across at his brother. “It’ll give you a chance to get to know the bride better.” He gave him a grin, as if to indicate he was kidding but it was obvious he meant every word.

  Mark knew from their brief email exchanges that his brother thought the marriage a little hasty, but he was furious with Tony for making his feelings known so publicly on the day before the ceremony.

  “Good idea.” He laughed falsely, anxious to avoid a scene, and hoped that his apparent joviality might make everyone else at the table interpret Tony’s remark as a joke. A couple evidently did, and felt confident enough to emit a snigger, most noticeably Kate.

  Mark moved round to sit next to Faye and the others started to talk among themselves, confident the show was over. “What’s his problem?” he whispered in her ear.

  “Oh, ignore him darling. He’s just being silly.” She looked down the table to see Tony in deep conversation with Jenna, seemingly untroubled by the upset he’d caused.

  “I expect you’re right. Let’s forget about it.” Mark nuzzled her neck. “Anyway, no one would be deliberately horrible to someone as gorgeous as you.”

  Faye leaned away from him. She felt irritated, which was so much more dangerous than just plain annoyed. “Utter rubbish, but sweet of you to say so,” she said, and flashed a smile at Derek, who was waving at her from his new location. “But one thing’s for sure, nothing’s going to ruin our wedding weekend.” The thump of her heart in her chest belied her words.

  “That’s the spirit, darling,” said Mark, relief etched on his face.

  “So come on then, what have you done to upset big brother?” It was Adam, sitting to her left.

  She hadn’t decided when or if she was going to tell Adam, but it wasn’t going to be now. “No idea.” She jerked her head at Mark who was now chatting to McLaren on his other side. “And he can’t shed any light on it either. It was probably just a joke.”

  “Oooh, no, there’s a definite friction there. Perhaps he fancies you.”

  Her face burned as she shook her head. She needed to throw Adam off the scent. “No, I know when a man fancies me, and when he doesn’t.” She picked up her wineglass and clinked it against his. “Anyway, let’s not talk about him anymore. As guests go, I wish he would.”

  By ten the dinner party was in full swing and the loud buzz of lively conversation dominated the room. They had already enjoyed a starter of asparagus tips with hollandaise sauce, and a main course of lamb noisettes with vegetables julienne. Faye had asked the staff to hold back the dessert for half an hour so that everyone could relax and chat.

  For most of the meal she had steadfastly avoided looking in Tony’s direction, but at one point she had stolen a glance and found him staring straight back at her. She felt as if she had been jolted by a cattle prod and the nausea of uncertainty welled again. Like two children indulging in a staring competition, each was too stubborn to be the first to look away. He even picked up his glass and drank without shifting his gaze. As Faye stared back unblinkingly, she found herself wondering how two brothers could be so unalike.

  “You OK?” The hand on her shoulder made her start. She swiveled her head away from Tony to find Mark smiling at her. “You were miles away.”

  “I know.” She rubbed her forehead. “I’m just a little tired, that’s all.”

  During the break between courses, guests took the opportunity to mingle and, spotting Jenna’s empty
seat next to Tony, Kate stood, picked up her glass, and walked round the table to talk to him.

  When Jenna returned from the loo, she experienced a flutter of panic as she saw that her chair had been occupied. Without fuss, she slipped quietly into the vacant seat between Rich and Ted. She had started the evening terrified at the thought of spending one minute, let alone an entire weekend, with these alarmingly sophisticated people, but since she’d been placed next to Tony at dinner, her nerves had eased up.

  Although Tony had left home by the time she and Mark were dating, she had met him on several occasions at family dinners and over Christmas—he had been working in London at the time rather than New York. He’d always been charming to her, and tonight was no exception. When he was talking to you, Tony could make you feel as if you were the only person in the room. But now she felt socially adrift again. She didn’t know Rich or Ted, and wished Kate had stayed where she was.

  “Hi, I’m Rich.” The man to her left extended his hand and gave her a pleasant smile.

  “Jenna.”

  “Nice to meet another crucial component of the freak show.” He grinned.

  “Sorry?” She was lost.

  “The exes. You’re one of the groom’s, aren’t you?”

  “Oh, yes.” She laughed nervously. “I am indeed.”

  “Well, I’m one of the bride’s, so we’re in this together. White wine?” He waited for her to nod, then filled her glass.

  Jenna had now sunk three glasses of champagne and two of wine. She was quite lightheaded, but had to admit she liked the feeling. Unusually, she even felt slightly flirtatious. “How did you and Faye meet?” she asked.

  Rich gave a little chuckle, which accentuated his dimples. “I think what you mean is, how do Faye and I have anything in common?”

  Jenna blushed until her cheeks matched the pink roses on her dress. She had been wondering why this seemingly pleasant and uncomplicated man had been drawn to Faye, but she would not have dared say so.

  “It’s OK.” He ground out his cigarette in the ashtray. “I often wonder about that. In retrospect, I was probably an experiment in Faye’s life. A short-lived one.”

  “An experiment?”

  “To see how long her low boredom threshold could cope with an ordinary bloke.” He sighed.

  “How long did it last?” Jenna couldn’t believe she was asking such personal questions.

  “Oh, about three months, give or take a couple of weeks to account for Faye’s walkouts.” He raised his eyes heavenward.

  “Yes, she does seem quite feisty,” said Jenna carefully. “In full flow I suspect she could be terrifying.”

  They lapsed into silence for a moment. Then Rich jerked his head at Mark. “He seems a really nice guy.”

  “Yes, he is,” she said warmly, “one of the best.”

  “You seem very fond of him.”

  “I am. We’ve known each other since the fifth year at school. My parents had just moved to the area and I didn’t know anyone, but Mark looked after me.”

  Rich looked surprised. “Oh, you two go that far back, do you? I thought you were a fleeting ex like me, one who’s been dragged out of the woodwork after years in the wilderness.”

  Jenna giggled: the alcohol was mellowing her usual aversion to gossip. “I am in a way, although we’ve stayed in touch over the past couple of years. I think Kate and I have been invited because Mark regards us as friends.”

  “You mean, rather than as tit-for-tat against Faye, like myself and Nat up there?” Rich gestured to Nat, who was using his tongue to extract a Bendick’s bitter mint from McLaren’s cleavage.

  Jenna was about to deny thinking any such thing, but Rich went on, “It’s true. I was surprised to get an invitation, partcularly as Faye and I only have patchy contact, these days. We speak a couple of times a year and she sends me a Christmas card, but that’s about it.”

  “So why did you come?”

  “That freak-show factor I mentioned earlier, I guess.” He pursed his lips. “I wanted to meet the man who has captured her heart.” He clutched at his chest melodramatically.

  “And?” She looked at him expectantly.

  “And from what I’ve seen so far . . . Mark seems like a really nice guy.”

  “And totally not in control of her.” Jenna smiled knowingly.

  “Don’t get me wrong. Faye’s lovely most of the time, but there’s a deep-rooted insecurity that makes her pretty high maintenance.” He took a swig of wine. “I’m no psychiatrist, but I would hazard a guess that it has something to do with her father walking out before she was born.”

  Jenna frowned. “I didn’t know that.” She took a tiny sip of her drink. “I remember seeing an edition of Trisha once about people who had been abandoned by parents. Some expert said it’s common for them to want to be in the driving seat of future relationships, so they feel it’s something they can control.”

  “Eureka! There you have it.” He grinned and topped up her glass.

  “In which case,” Jenna continued, “Mark may be right for her because he’s secure and clearly adores her. She can’t be in any doubt of it.”

  “No, but it’s not as simple as that. She needs someone whom she adores in equal measure, to give him a bit of bargaining power when she plays up.”

  Jenna looked at him blankly, then burst out laughing. “I’m afraid you’ve lost me.”

  Rich made a snorting noise. “Ah, fuck it. What do we care anyway? More drink!” He knocked back the contents of his glass and refilled it. “What’s the scoop with you and Mark now?”

  “Nothing much. We’re friends, that’s all. I occasionally see him when he comes home to visit his parents, but that’s about it.”

  “Why did you break up? Or is it too personal?”

  “No,” she reassured him. “He went to university and I didn’t.”

  “And . . . putting two and two together here . . .” Rich narrowed his eyes and looked across the table “. . . I presume he met Kate.”

  She smiled. “Well done, Columbo. Another case solved.”

  “God, I’ll bet you were really pissed off,” he said, with masterly understatement.

  “Heartbroken would be a better description.” She sighed. “But I’m over it now.”

  “Anyone since?”

  “I would hope so! It’s been several years after all. No one serious though.”

  They were jolted from their chat by Derek banging his empty coffee cup on the table. “Ssssh, everyone,” he shouted. “I just want to say a few words before we all get too pissed.”

  “Derek, really!” Jean looked as if she was sucking a particularly bitter lemon.

  “I know the wedding speeches aren’t until tomorrow afternoon,” Derek plowed on, “but I just wanted to propose a toast to our hosts for this evening, the bride- and groom-in-waiting, Faye and Mark!”

  “Hear! hear!” everyone chorused, over the noise of chairs scraping on the wood floor as they got to their feet.

  Only Tony remained seated. Once the noise had stopped and everyone had noticed, he got to his feet with the speed and enthusiasm of a man approaching a noose.

  Derek waited for him. “Congratulations!” he said, raising his glass towards Faye and Mark, and everyone followed suit except Tony, who again remained motionless.

  After a pause, he raised his empty glass. “And I’d like to propose a toast to absent friends . . . namely the wine waiter.”

  Brian let out a loud laugh, and a couple of others tittered, clearly unsure how to react. Faye remained poker-faced.

  Derek leaned forward to pick up a bottle of wine from the ice bucket in front of him, walked round the table to where Tony was sitting, and cuffed him playfully round the ear. “Some people are just too grand to look after themselves,” he said, and filled his son’s glass. A few seconds later, the buzz of conversation started again, and Faye relaxed as attention drifted away from her. “He’s trying to make out we’re stingy,” she whispered to Mark, her eye
s filled with tears.

  “No, he’s not,” Mark said soothingly. “It’s just his warped sense of humor.”

  Her expression changed from hurt to mild annoyance. “You can’t excuse all barbed remarks as jokes.”

  “Why would he want to be deliberately nasty at our wedding? He’s my brother, for God’s sake,” Mark reminded her.

  Faye took a swig of her wine and looked down the table. I know why he’s playing up, she thought. All I have to do is find out how far he’s going to take it.

  11 p.m.

  Mark stood up and was surprised by how unsteady he felt. “They would like us to adj—adj—go to the library for coffee,” he stuttered, “where there will also be lots more wine for anyone who wants it.” He looked pointedly at Tony, who was grinning from ear to ear.

  The guests trooped through and Mark stayed behind to marshal any stragglers. Eventually only he and Brian were left.

  “You OK?” asked Brian. “You look a bit harassed.”

  “I never realized weddings could be quite so stressful.”

  “Well, at least it’s the one and only time you’ll have to do it.”

  “I hope you’re right,” said Mark ruefully. “I’m rather wishing we’d just buggered off on our own to the Elvis chapel in Las Vegas.”

  “What? And deprive your best friend of seeing the spectacle of so many exes and egos under one roof?” Brian lurched, and steadied himself by holding on to the table. “Shame on you.”

  “Ha bloody ha. Come on,” He jerked his head towards the library. “It’s round two.”

  “Ah, there you are, darling!” Jean descended on them in a waft of White Linen. “I’m just off to powder my nose.”

  “You didn’t tell me your mother had a coke habit.” Brian grinned.

  Mark scowled at him, but Jean’s mind was evidently on other matters. “I’ve just been having a lovely chat with poor Jenna,” she said. “Such a darling girl, so obliging.” She floated off in the direction of the lavatories, with Brian following.