Chapter 14
That night, as she sleeps between us, in the dimness cast by the night-light, I see Michael, arms clasped behind his head, staring up at the ceiling. Wedding nerves?
"Restless?"
The whites of his eyes flick across, then he rolls to face me, eye-pointing downwards, speaking quietly. "What would you have done?" "Done? When?"
"What you have done.... if she'd said that she really didn't want to marry me?
Ah... Christ....
How do I answer that?
Be truthful....
"Probably, given in to temptation and married her myself."
*****
The morning is chaotic. In theory, Michael and I, Richard and the guests occupy the hotel. Charlotte and Beth have the house. In practice, people mill about in all directions, turning up in unexpected places....
Still in jeans and tee-shirt while I make a last check on preparations, I eject a couple of kids from the kitchen where the chef's knife set seems to be a magnet for them. Then as I turn to leave, I run into an old lady trying to force the larder door open.
"I was only looking for the ladies' toilets...."
"And who are you?"
"I'm Michael's Aunty Gladys"
"Well, I'm James, his Best Man, and you'll find the toilets along the corridor." Taking her by the shoulders, I turn her around, steering her to aim the right way, then wait and watch to be sure she toddles off.
In the bedroom we're using as a changing room, Michael looks harassed. "Please tell me you remembered to lock the door to the cellars in the house."
"Oh, yes. We don't want random wanderers down there," I flash brows, fishing out my keys, jingle them in demonstration, then tuck them safely back in my pocket. "All locked and secure." Jeez....
The idea of Ben wandering down there....
For someone normally so sunny, so self-contained, so competent, Michael is a bag of nerves. He misbuttons his shirt and has to unfasten then rebutton it. The tie dangling under his collar, he fumbles and mis-knots it. The front ends up three inches long with the back half trailing by his belt. The result looks like something worn by a circus clown.
He tries again, with a similar result.
"I'll do it for you in a sec," I say, brushing specks of dust from his dark grey formal jacket.
"Here, let me." It's Ben. "Come on Bro. Calm down." Michael shoots him a grateful glance as Ben unravels the tie, then reknots it into a perfect Windsor. "You should have a drink. What is there around here?"
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I point to a bottle and glasses. "Scotch over there."
Michael shudders. "Don't think I could handle it."
"You should have some breakfast at least."
Ben raises brows. "Yes, he should. I'll bring something up for you. Is the kitchen open, James?"
"The staff should be in there by now. Just tell them what you want."
"How about bacon sandwiches all round then?"
Michael's face sets, so I interrupt. "Great idea, Ben. Get something solid inside him."
*****