EX Files Page 15

  “Didn’t you try to talk him out of it?”

  “I didn’t see the point. After six years together, we’d had a bit of a rough patch and he gave up on us. That told me something.” She stared fixedly ahead, her eyes glazed.

  “And that was that?”

  “Pretty much. He said he wanted us to carry on seeing each other, but I’m an all-or-nothing person and said so. He chose the nothing part by carrying on with his plans to move out.” She sniffed. “But at least my ultimatum meant he was able to tell your mother that I’d ended it.”

  “No late-night drunken phone calls where he begged to come back?”

  Kate shook her head.

  “And no second thoughts on your part? If you’d carried on seeing each other, it might have worked out in the end.”

  “Maybe, maybe not. I suppose I was hoping he’d miss me so much that he would make the drunken phone call and beg to come back. But he never did.” She looked across the room to where Mark and Faye were laughing at an animated Adam, who was gesticulating wildly to illustrate whatever story he was telling.

  “Then he met her. And now here we are, one year later, at their wedding.” There were tears in her eyes. “In all the time we were together, he never showed any inclination towards marriage.”

  Tony didn’t blame her for looking and sounding bitter. “You know, it’s a funny thing,” he said softly, “but sometimes you have to meet someone who’s wrong for you to know who’s right for you. If anyone dares to tell us they think someone’s wrong, we think they’re interfering and we invariably go ahead and make mistakes.”

  “Do you think Mark and I were wrong for each other, then?” Kate looked like a little girl who’d been told she couldn’t have the dolly she wanted for Christmas.

  “I thought you were great together,” said Tony reassuringly. “Trouble is, Mark had only been out with Jenna before you, so he hadn’t had much experience of women.” He paused to see whether Kate wanted to comment on this observation, but she said nothing. “You got on so well most of the time that he probably took it for granted. Then, when you hit a rough patch, he assumed it was all going wrong and stupidly bailed out.”

  Kate was evidently hanging on his every word.

  “Then—pow!” Tony smacked his hands together. “He meets a beautiful but difficult woman and mistakes it for a grand passion. He’s bowled over by her for all the wrong reasons.”

  Kate looked dubious. “You’re probably right, but it doesn’t make me feel any better.” Her voice was barely audible.

  Tony pursed his lips. “It doesn’t thrill me either. But I have an ace up my sleeve.”

  “Really?” Kate perked up at the whiff of intrigue.

  Tony realized he’d said too much and changed the subject. “You know what? It’s one of life’s iniquities that women are suspicious of men who’ve been round the block a few times, but the truth is that they’re far more likely to settle down because they’ve done it all and know what they want. It’s the inexperienced ones who often end up screwing you around.”

  “Nice try,” Kate said, “but I’m not letting you off that lightly. What was that about an ace?”

  “Nothing. The pissed waffle of a man who’s now been drinking for . . . ooh . . .” he looked at his watch “. . . too many hours.”

  Kate evidently wasn’t satisfied with that. “Yeah, right. Well, whatever it turns out to be, I hope it bloody works,” she muttered.

  “Aha! I wondered where he’d got to.” Tony pointed to where Ted was clutching two glasses of wine and talking to Brian, having been intercepted on his way back to them. “Quickly, before he comes back, how’s it going with you and him?”

  Kate grimaced. “Can you keep a secret?”

  “Hand on heart,” he said solemnly.

  Kate pinched his earlobe between finger and thumb, pulled him towards her, and whispered in his ear.

  12:15 a.m.

  Mark and Faye waved at Derek as he removed Jean from the throng, turned back to each other and burst out laughing.

  “I have never seen Mum so drunk!” he spluttered. “I’m shocked.”

  “I’m not.” She grinned. “In fact, I think it’s a shame she’s gone to bed. She could have livened things up a bit.”

  “Aren’t you enjoying yourself?” Concern was etched on Mark’s face.

  “Yes, I am,” she replied, with false brightness, “but I want to get to bed so tomorrow will come sooner.”

  Mark enveloped her in a cuddle, his arms wrapped around her torso. She buried her face in his neck. He smelled wonderful, a mixture of musk and freshly lit cigarette. She wanted to stay there forever, breathing in the familiar scent and feeling cosseted, but eventually she broke away and took his hand.

  “Come on, let’s find somewhere to have a quiet moment together.” She led him out of the library’s main doors and into the empty hallway. A few yards along it, a doorway led to a tiny smoking room painted in dark red, with matching curtains and carpets. Backgammon boards were laid out on a couple of small tables on each side of an ancient three-piece suite in burgundy velvet.

  Faye fell into a sofa and dragged Mark down with her. “Ah, that’s better,” she murmured, nestling into the deep cushions. “I just wanted to get away for a little while.”

  “Is it driving you mad?” He tucked a strand of hair behind her ear.

  “Not mad as such . . . but it’s all quite stressful, isn’t it?”

  “Yes, it is. Much more so than I thought.”

  “In what way do you find it stressful?” She wondered whether it was for the same reasons as she did.

  “Oh, being the constant center of attention, making sure everyone’s having a great time, that sort of thing.” One arm was pulling her into his chest, the other rested on her knee. “You?”

  Faye stared into the empty fireplace. “Pretty much the same. It’s exhausting having to talk to everyone all the time. I much prefer going to other people’s parties where you can choose who to chat to.”

  “Mmm. There’s nothing like spending a bit of time with relatives to remind you of why you moved away.” Mark lay back against the cushions. “But when we’ve got this out of the way, we’ll have two weeks of doing nothing in the Maldives.”

  “Followed by a lifetime of being able to do stuff like this . . . just curling up on the sofa and watching TV with a takeaway,” she said dreamily.

  “I’ve spent the past God knows how long doing that with Brian,” he said, “but something tells me I’m going to prefer it with you.”

  They said nothing for a while, just relishing the peace after an evening of small talk.

  Mark broke the tranquillity. “I saw you having a long chat with Tony. What was it about?”

  It was an innocent enough inquiry, born of Mark’s concern that his fiancée and brother should get on, but to Faye it was the million-dollar question that sent her mind into freefall.

  “Um . . . nothing, really,” she faltered.

  “It was a long time to be talking about nothing,” he said, without a trace of confrontation.

  Faye sat up, trying to concentrate on what she was about to say. “We just talked about you, and a bit about him. And he asked me about myself, of course.”

  Mark patted her knee encouragingly. “That’s great. So you’re friends now?” He looked at her questioningly. “It’s just that you were worried he didn’t like you.”

  That’s the least of my worries, thought Faye, her insides turning over at the reminder. “No, we’re fine now,” she said. “Best of buddies.”

  “Good.” Mark pulled her closer to him again. “Because you are my two most favorite people in the world, and I’d hate it if you didn’t get on.”

  Faye closed her eyes and rested her head against his chest, trying to calm herself by concentrating on Mark’s steady breathing. She had no idea when, or even if, Tony was going to divulge their secret, but the mere idea of it made her feel dizzy. Not for the first time, she wished that she and M
ark had eloped and told everyone the good news on their return.

  She felt him shift slightly under her weight. “When we come back from our honeymoon, we’ll have to find somewhere to live,” he said matter-of-factly.

  She nodded, but didn’t say anything. They had already discussed the possibility of Mark moving into Faye’s flat, but agreed it was too small. Also, Mark felt it was too much her personal space: he wanted them to live somewhere new and mark out their own territory—“piss in the corners,” as he put it. Because of their work commitments and planning the wedding, they hadn’t had time to start looking. That task had been earmarked for when they returned from abroad; once they’d found somewhere, Brian had said he would start looking for another flatmate.

  Mark was stroking her hair, a sensation she had loved since she was a little girl: it soothed her. “Do you feel nervous about tomorrow?” he asked.

  There was that question again, and it still took her by surprise. “A bit,” she said quietly. “But mainly because I want it to be perfect. Do you?”

  “A bit too,” he admitted. “But it’s only natural.”

  “Yes,” she whispered, “it’s only natural.” She sat up and smoothed her hair, readying herself to return to their guests. “I do love you, Mark.” She took his face in her hands and leaned forward to place a kiss on his forehead.

  “I know you do, darling,” he said. “I love you too.”

  They shared a lingering kiss, as her hand caressed the back of his neck and his leg pressed against hers.

  If he’d suggested here and now that they run away to Las Vegas then she would probably have done it, pausing only to leave a farewell note at the reception for their guests. Instead, they had to break up their idyll and go back into the mêlée of the library, with its shoal of people and one circling shark.

  “Come on, then,” she said, “we’ve guests to entertain.”

  Together they walked hand in hand towards their destiny.

  Mark planned the proposal with military precision. Since meeting Faye, he’d found in himself romantic depths he hadn’t known existed—he certainly hadn’t tapped them with Jenna or Kate. One night while Faye had slept, he’d wrapped a piece of thread around her finger to get the measurement, and in the past fortnight had spent much of his spare time looking for a suitable ring. He’d eventually blown about two months’ wages on an antique diamond solitaire.

  “What do you think?” He showed it to Brian just before he left to meet Faye at one of their favorite restaurants, an intimate little French place called La Mer.

  Brian peered into the box as if studying a dog turd. “Yes, I can confirm it’s a ring,” he said, then turned back to the television.

  “Thanks for your support, mate.” Mark snapped the box shut and glared at him. “I really appreciate it.”

  Brian muted the volume and sighed. “Look, I’m sorry, but I can’t be happy for you about this. It’s too soon.”

  “Says who?”

  “Says me. Yes, yes, I know I’m not an expert,” he said, as Mark tried to interject, “but even I can see when two people are right for each other . . . and I just don’t see that with you and Faye.”

  “You don’t see everything.” Mark’s expression hardened. “You don’t see how she makes me feel inside.”

  “It’s your dick talking, mate,” Brian told him ruefully. “She’s beautiful, she’s got a glamorous job and lots of shaggable friends . . .” He stopped and stared into the distance at the thought. “Sorry, I digressed . . .” He shook his head as if to clear it of such inappropriate thoughts. “She’s also got a great sense of humor when she’s in the right mood. So, yes, I can see why you’re smitten with her. But marriage? You haven’t even tried living together yet.”

  “If she says yes, we won’t get married immediately, will we?” He pursed his lips childishly. “We might get a place together for a while beforehand.”

  “Well, do that, see how it goes, then think about asking her to marry you.”

  Mark felt defeated. He knew Brian made sense, but he didn’t want to wait that long. “I know it’s a big step, but I just can’t imagine life without her. I’m scared shitless that it might end, and I want to do anything I can to keep it going.”

  “If she was right for you, you wouldn’t even think of it ending unless you were going through a rough patch. Relationships should feel easy—they shouldn’t scare you.”

  Mark was struck dumb by Brian’s sudden interest: he usually steered well clear of conversations about relationships. As if reading his mind, Brian added, “I’m only saying all this because you’re my mate and I don’t want you to get hurt.”

  Mark attempted a smile. “Thanks. I know you mean well, but I’ll be fine. Really.” He stood up and grabbed the ring box from the arm of the chair. “Wish me luck.”

  “Sorry, mate, but you know me. I can’t be hypocritical. As far as I’m concerned, you’re about to make the biggest mistake of your life.”

  Faye arrived early at La Mer because for once her minicab had turned up on time and the traffic was light. She handed her coat to the waiter, settled herself in a dark corner and ordered a bottle of her and Mark’s favorite Gavi di Gavi. She had been looking forward to tonight because they hadn’t seen much of each other for the past three weeks. Since he had started his new job, Mark had been up to his eyes in work, and Faye had just returned from a weeklong assignment in Spain for a magazine’s swimwear feature.

  She wanted this evening to be special, not least because her behavior at a recent party had been playing on her mind. It had been held by one of Mark’s friends, and he had been keen for her to go, saying he wanted to show her off. He had introduced her to their host, then left them talking while he went to look for drinks and Brian went in search of the loo.

  As soon as Mark had disappeared, the host, Ben, wasted no time. “What a fantastic necklace,” he said, touching her pendant—and her chest. His hand lingered a little too long for comfort, and Faye took a step back.

  “How do you and Mark know each other?” she asked. She already knew, but she couldn’t think of anything else to say.

  “Oh, I dine at the restaurant regularly,” he said airily. “But never mind all that, how did he get to meet a little poppet like you?”

  “A little poppet? What planet are you from?”

  “Any planet you’d like me to be from,” he said lasciviously, moving closer and placing his hands on her hips.

  “Oh, get lost.” She slapped away his hands and walked out into the corridor.

  She was mildly annoyed with Mark for abandoning her to Mr. Octopus, and wished he’d taken her with him to search for the drinks. She peered into the dining room, where about four people were locked in earnest conversation. None was Mark, so she carried on down the corridor towards the kitchen, where she found him, leaning against the table and chatting to a pleasant-looking girl who was on the plump side and had long, brown hair.

  Faye noticed he had a paper cup in his hand, full of wine. There was another next to him on the table, which she presumed was hers.

  As she approached, he threw back his head and laughed at something the girl had said. Faye pinched his side to get his attention. “I thought you were fetching me a drink. You’ve been gone ages.”

  “Have I?” Mark looked baffled, particularly as it had only been a couple of minutes. “Sorry, Rachel was just telling me about something that happened in the restaurant last night. This is Rachel by the way. Rachel, this is Faye.”

  “Hi.” Faye shook Rachel’s outstretched hand and turned back to Mark. “Come through to the living room with me, darling.”

  Mark handed her the cup of wine. “I just want to hear the end of Rachel’s story first. You go on, I’ll follow in a minute.” He turned back to Rachel who took up the story where she’d left off.

  In retrospect, Faye saw it had been an innocent enough remark, but at the time it had felt like her Achilles heel: disrespect. Temper bubbled inside her and she slamm
ed her wine on to the table, spilling it down Mark’s trousers.

  “Don’t mind me!” she muttered. “Just carry on as if I don’t exist!”

  Rachel’s face betrayed her astonishment and Mark was speechless. Clearly he had no idea of what he’d done wrong, but Faye could not stop herself glaring at him. In the end, embarrassment forced her to escape the situation she’d created and she headed for the door.

  As she reached it, Brian was walking in and she crashed against him. She said nothing, just carried on into the hallway and heard him ask Mark, “What’s happened?”

  Suspecting Mark might come after her quite quickly, she grabbed her coat from the hallway peg and hurried out of the front door with the speed of a woman who knew she’d behaved appallingly and didn’t want to face up to the consequences.

  Back home, she had mulled over what had made her lose control. After all, Nat had treated her as little more than an occasional shag, and she’d never felt jealous or insecure about him. She decided that it was because she had used Nat in the same way, never expecting any more of the relationship.

  But Mark was different. She loved him, he loved her and, consequently, she feared losing him. She consoled herself that her outburst might have been immature and unnecessary, but at least it showed she cared.

  The following morning, Mark had called her first thing and apologized. She knew it should have been the other way round, but it would have taken her longer to make the first move.

  Faye cringed as she remembered it now, and she cast a glance at the restaurant door, desperate for Mark to arrive. Tonight she wanted to leave him in no doubt that she cared deeply for him. They had only seen each other twice in the past fortnight, both brief meetings, and this dinner was the first time in ages they had been able to meet for a leisurely evening, knowing that neither had to get up in the morning.

  Faye, leaned back against the banquette. Studying the menu, she decided that tonight she’d order whatever she wanted rather than worrying about calories. She wasn’t fanatical about watching her weight, but she’d become more careful since the modeling work had picked up again.