FLISSI can’t believe she’s ignored me for a full twenty-four hours. She’s got some nerve.It’s the following afternoon, the wedding is due to start in an hour, and I still haven’t spoken to Lottie. She’s sidestepped my every call (approximately one hundred of them). But at the same time she’s managed to leave a whole series of messages on my phone, about the registry office and the restaurant and meeting for pre-wedding drinks at Bluebird. A purple satin bridesmaid’s dress arrived at my office at lunchtime by bike. A poem arrived by email, along with a request for me to read it aloud during the ceremony: It will make our day so special!She doesn’t fool me. There’s a reason she’s not been taking my calls: she feels defensive. Which means I’m in with a chance. I know I can talk her out of this nonsense. I just need to work out exactly where her vulnerability is and exploit it.As I arrive at Bluebird, I can see her already sitting at the bar in a cream lace minidress, with roses in he
Just call me the World Champion Bride Whisperer.There was no argument. No confrontation. Lottie thinks it was her idea to postpone. I was the one saying, “Are you sure, Lottie? Are you positive you want to call things off? Really?”I’ve totally sold her on the idea of a country wedding with music and a choirand bells. She’s already looked up the name of the chaplain at our old school. She’s off on a new dream of satin and posies and “I Vow to Thee, My Country.”Which is fine. A wedding is lovely. Marriage is lovely. Maybe Ben is destined to be her life partner and I’ll kick myself as she has her tenth grandchild and think, What was my problem? But at least this way gives her some breathing space. At least it gives her time to look at Ben and think, Hmm. Sixty more years with you. Is this a good idea?Lottie’s gone off to the registry office, to tell Ben the news. My work is done. The only task remaining is to buy her Brides magazine. We’re going to meet up for coffee tomorrow and ha
“Another?” He looks up and meets my eye, and I feel things shift between us a little. The first drink was like a coda to the whole affair. It was resolution. It was just being polite.This is more than polite. “Yes, let’s.”“Same again?”I nod and watch as he summons the waiter and orders. Nice hands. Good strong jaw. Unhurried, laconic mannerisms. He’s a lot more appealing than his webpage gives away.“Your website photo is terrible,” I say abruptly, as the waiter disappears. “Really bad. Did you know that?”“Wow.” Lorcan raises his eyebrows, looking taken aback. “You’re direct.Lucky I’m not vain.”“It’s not about vanity.” I shake my head. “It’s not that you’re better-looking in the flesh. It’s that your personality is better. I’m looking at you and I’m seeing aguy who makes time for people. A guy who puts away his phone. Who listens. You’re charming. In a way.”“In a way?” He gives an incredulous laugh.“But your photo doesn’t say that.” I ignore him. “In your photo, you’re scowli
I’m half awake. I think. Oh God. My head hurts.So many thoughts. Where do I start? Remembered sensations are crowding out my brain in a blur. And sudden flashes: intense, astonishing memories like squeezes of lemon. Him. Me. Under. Over … Suddenly I realize I’m mentally intoning Noah’s old picture book, Opposites Are Fun! Inside. Outside. This way. That way.But now the fun’s over. It must be morning, if the light dazzling my eyelids is a clue. I’m lying, one leg thrown over the duvet, not quite daring to open my eyes. You. Me. Then. Now. Oh God, now.I open one eye a chink and get an eyeful of beige duvet. Ah yes. I remember the beige duvet from last night. Clearly the ex-wife took all the White Company Egyptian cotton and he went to the nearest Linen for Divorced Men store. My head is throbbing, and after a moment the beige starts to shimmer in front of my eyes. So I close them and roll onto my back. I haven’t had a one-night stand in a long time. A looooong time. I’ve forgotten ho
All morning, I feel aftershocks of embarrassment.At least I managed to streak from the taxi to my front door with no neighbors seeing me. I ripped off the purple dress, had the quickest shower known tomankind, then called Noah on speakerphone while I was trying to do speedy makeup. (There is no point in rushing mascara application. I know this. So why do I always fall into the same trap and end up wiping blobs of it off my cheeks and forehead and mirror?) Evidently Noah’s sleepover was a 100 percent rip- roaring, triumphant success. Wish I could say the same about mine.I couldn’t bring myself to call Lottie back, and anyway I didn’t have time.Instead, I texted her, suggesting drinks at seven P.M.Now I’m back at the office, speed-reading a review of a new luxury safari lodge in Kenya, which has just come in, about two thousand words over the limit. Clearly this journalist thinks he’s writing the next Out of Africa. He hasn’t mentioned the pool or the room service or the spa, only
“Not exactly.”Oh God. How do I put this? Come on, Fliss. Just say it.“I want you to stop them from having sex,” I say in a rush.There’s absolute silence down the line. I’ve confounded even Nico.“Fliss, repeat to me your request again,” he says at last. “I fear I have not understood.”I fear he has.“I want you to stop them from having sex,” I repeat, enunciating as clearly as I can. “No sex. No wedding night. At least, not till I get out there. Do whatever you can. Put them in separate rooms. Distract them. Kidnap one of them. Whatever it takes.”“But they are on their honeymoon.” He sounds utterly flummoxed. “I know. And that’s why.”“You are trying to disrupt your own sister’s wedding night?” His voice rises in shock. “You are trying to come between a man and his new wife? Who have been joined before God?”I should have explained this better.“Nico, she’s rushed into this marriage. And it wasn’t before God! It’s a big, stupid mistake. I need to talk to her. I’m flying out as soo
I’m married! My mouth is fixed in a permanent, gleeful smile. I’m so euphoric, I feel like I might float away. Today has been the best, most magical, most extraordinary day of my life. I’m married!! I’m married!!!I still keep replaying the moment when I looked up from my desk to see Ben marching into the office, holding a bouquet of roses. His jaw was set and his eyes were flashing, and you could see he meant business. Even my boss, Martin, came out of his office to watch. The whole place was hushed as Ben stood at my office door and proclaimed, “I’m going to marry you, Lottie Graveney, and I’m going to do it today.”Then he lifted me up—lifted me up—and everyone cheered, and Kayla came running after me with my bag and phone, and Ben handed me the bouquet and that was it. I was a bride.I barely remember the marriage ceremony. I was in a state of shock. Ben practically jumped on each answer; I do remember that. He didn’t pause for a moment—in fact he sounded almost aggressive as he s
As I cross the lounge toward the washrooms, I’m actually trembling with anticipation. I knock twice on the third cubicle door, and as Ben sweeps me in, he’s already half undressed.“Oh God. Oh God …”His mouth is immediately on mine, his hand is in my hair, now he’s unhooking my bra and I’m wriggling out of my knickers. I’ve never moved so fast. I’ve never wanted it so fast. I’ve never needed it so badly in my life.“Shh!” we keep whispering to each other as we bump against the cubicle walls. Thank God they’re sturdy. We’re maneuvering into position as quickly as we can, Ben’s braced against the wall, we’re both breathing like steam engines, I can tell this is going to take about ten seconds.…“Condom?” I whisper.“No.” He meets my eye. “Right?”“Right.” I feel an extra spurt of excitement. We might make a baby!“Hey.” He suddenly pauses. “Have you got into any kinky stuff since we last did it? Anything I should know?”“A bit,” I say breathlessly, hoicking my skirt up farther. “Tell y
Well, she was right about the sunsets. I’ve never seen anything as spectacular as this in my life. The sun is slowly glowing down the sky, and it’s not just sinking, it’s shooting rays of pink and orange with such dramatic force, I’m put in mind of one of Noah’s superheroes. “Sunset” sounds quite passive, quite nothing-y. This is more like sun-pow! Sun-take-that!I look down at Noah’s face, all rosy in the light, and I think again, He’ll be OK. For the first time in ages, I don’t feel angst or stress or anger. He’ll be OK. He’ll sort himself out. I’ll sort myself out. It’s all good.We’ve had an odd time. Kind of cathartic and uncomfortable, embarrassing and joyful, awkward and wonderful, all at the same time. Nico rustled us up a table at the beach-side restaurant, and all five of us sat around eating meze to make your taste buds sing with joy and slow-cooked lamb to make your insides whimper with ecstasy.The food here really is good. Must make sure I big it up in my piece.There wer
Of all the moments I’ve experienced in life, this is the one I will remember forever. I’m holding my breath. The whole place is silent. Lottie’s staring at Richard, transfixed, her eyes huge. Her Happy Couple of the Week sash is glimmering in the lights, and her crown has slipped.“Well … well …” She doesn’t seem able to get the words out. “Well, I still love you!” She tears off her crown. “I love you!”Richard visibly jolts with shock. “But—” He gestures at Ben.“It was a mistake!” She’s almost sobbing now. “It was all a mistake! And I was thinking about you all the time, but you’d gone to San Francisco, but now here you are—” She suddenly turns to me, her face tearstained. “Fliss? Did you bring Richard here?”“Er … kind of,” I say cautiously.“Then I love you too.” She flings her arms around me. “Fliss, I love you.” “Oh, Lotts.” Tears are welling up in my eyes now. “I love you. I just want youto have the happiest, happiest life.”“I know.” She squeezes me tight, then turns and leap
I’m frozen. All I can do is stare mutely back. This was not how I was planning to let Lottie know that I’d arrived on Ikonos.“Fliss?” she says again, and now there’s a sharp edge to her voice which makes me flinch. What do I say? What can I say? Where do I even begin?“Fliss!” Nico speaks before I can marshal my thoughts, and snatches the microphone from Ben. “And here we have the sister of the happy couple!” He addresses the audience. “May I introduce Felicity Graveney, editor of Pincher Travel Review. She is here to give the hotel a special five-star review!” He beams delightedly. “As you can see, she has been sampling the delights of the Aegean Sea.”The audience gives a polite laugh. I have to hand it to Nico. No marketing opportunity left unexploited.“Now let us have the whole family onstage!” He’s bustling Lorcan, Noah, and me onto the platform. “A family shot for your special honeymoon album. Stand together!”“What the hell are you doing here?” Lottie’s eyes are dark with ang
When I give my Making Your Job Work for You! seminar to staff members at Blay Pharmaceuticals, one of my themes is: You can learn from everything. I take a sample workplace situation and we brainstorm and then list as bullet points What You Learned from This.After two hours on Yuri Zhernakov’s yacht, my bullet points would go as follows:• I am never having my lips done.• Actually, I wouldn’t mind a yacht.• Krug is ambrosia from heaven.• Yuri Zhernakov is so rich, it makes my eyes water.• Ben’s tongue was practically hanging out. And what about all those embarrassing sycophantic jokes?• Whatever Ben may think, Yuri is not interested in “joint projects.” The only thing he wanted to talk about was the house.• If you ask me, Yuri will get rid of the paper company altogether. Ben doesn’t seem to realize this.• I think Ben may be quite thick.• We should never, ever have come back via the beach.This was our big mistake. We should have got the boat to drop us a mile up th
I can see the tiny figures of swimmers bobbing around in the sea as I gaze back to shore. The late-afternoon sun is casting long shadows on the beach. Children are screaming and couples are embracing and families are playing together. And I suddenly wish with all my heart I was one of them. People on simple holidays, without complicated lives, without flaky, self-centered husbands, without disastrous decisions they have to unpick.I hated the yacht the minute we got on board. Yachts are awful. Everything is clad in white leather and I’m terrified of making a mark, and Yuri Zhernakov just ran a glance over me as though to say, No, you won’t make the cut as my fifth wife. I was instantly banished to the company of two Russian women with plumped-up lips and boobs. They’re so puffed up with silicone they make me think of balloon animals, and they have made no conversation except “Which limited-edition designer compact are you examining your reflection in?”Mine’s Body Shop, so that didn’t
“I don’t know,” I confess. “If they’d just turn round …”“That’s not Aunt Lottie!” says Noah scornfully. “That’s a different lady.” “Doesn’t really look like Ben,” confirms Lorcan, squinting at the guy. “Tootall.”At that moment, the girl turns her head and I realize she looks nothing like Lottie.“Oh God.” I sink down onto a nearby sun bed. “It’s not them. I can’t run around anymore. Can’t we have a drink?” I turn to Lorcan. “You must have missed your deadline by now. Get it done in the morning. Have a drink. Lorcan? What’s wrong?”I blink at him in surprise. His face is suddenly like stone. He’s staring at something beyond my shoulder, and I swivel to see what he’s looking at. It’s a normal luxury-hotel beach, with sun beds, and waves crashing onto the sand, and swimmers in the sea, and, beyond, a few sailing boats and, way beyond that, a big yacht moored in deep water. That’s what he’s staring at, I realize.“That’s Zhernakov’s yacht,” he says steadily. “What’s it doing here?”“Oh
An open marriage?I’m so thunderstruck I’ve sunk down onto my suitcase, right in the middle of the hot, dusty pavement, ignoring the stream of passengers who have to divert around me.“Ready?” says Lorcan, striding up with Richard and Noah, his eyes squinting against the blazing Greek sun. “I’ve arranged the fare. We need to get going.”I’m too flummoxed to reply. “Fliss?” He tries again.“They’ve got an open marriage,” I say. “Can you believe it?” Lorcan raises his eyebrows and whistles. “Ben will like that.” “An open marriage?” Richard goggles at me. “Lottie?” “Exactly!”“I can’t believe it.”“It’s true. She just told me herself.”Richard is silent for a few moments, breathing deeply. “That confirms it—I don’t really know her,” he says at last. “I’ve been an idiot. It’s time to put all this to an end.” He holds out his hand to Noah. “Bye, little chap. It’s been good traveling with you.”“Don’t go, Uncle Richard!” Noah flings his arms passionately around Richard’s legs, and for a mom
Fuck.Oh fuck.I feel hot and cold. I didn’t see this coming. I never thought that at this late stage she would find out. We’re on the island. We’re nearly there. We’re so nearly there.We’re standing outside the airport on Ikonos, our luggage assembled in a pile. Lorcan is at the taxi rank, negotiating a fare to the Amba Hotel, and I gesture to him to keep an eye on Noah.“Hi, Lottie,” I manage, but my voice has stopped working. I swallow several times, trying to regain my cool. What do I say? What can I say?“It was you.” Her voice is lacerating. “You’ve been trying to stop Ben and me from getting it together, haven’t you? You were behind the butlers and the single beds and the peanut oil. Who else would know about peanut oil but you?”“I …” I rub my face. “Listen. I … I just—”“Why would you do that? Why would anyone do that? It’s my honeymoon!” Her voice rises to a shriek of anguish and fury. “My honeymoon! And you ruined it!”“Lottie. Listen.” I gulp. “I thought … I was doing it f
I can hardly believe it’s true. Our hotel suite is empty. No staff milling around. No butlers. No harps. As I look around the sleek, silent furniture, I can feel a buzz of anticipation in the air. It’s as though the rooms are waiting for us to fill them with noise and heat and gasps and lovely, lovely sex.We arrived back at the hotel and came straight up here. Neither of us said a word. I’m blocking everything else out right now. All thoughts about our marriage. All thoughts about Richard. All thoughts about Sarah. My shame, my sadness, my humiliation—I’m blocking it all out. The only thing I’m focusing on is that insistent pulse inside me I’ve been feeling ever since I clapped eyes on Ben in that restaurant. I want him. He wants me. We deserve this.As he comes toward me, his eyes are darkening and I can tell he feels like I do: where to start? We have the whole experience ahead of us, like a delicious box of chocolates.“Did you put out DO NOT DISTURB?” I murmur as his lips find my