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Author: Danny Walker
last update Last Updated: 2022-12-17 03:02:31

My ears twitch. Uh-oh. A “goal.” That’s one of my post-breakup alarm-bell terms. Along with “project,” “change of direction,” and “amazing new friend.”

“Right,” I say cautiously. “Great! So … um … what’s your goal?”

My mind is already scurrying around the possibilities. Please not another piercing. Or another crazy property purchase. I’ve talked her out of quitting her job so many times, it can’t be that again, surely?

Please not move to Australia.

Please not “lose a stone.” Because 1) she’s skinny already, and 2) last time she went on a diet, she made me be her “buddy” and instructed me to phone up every half hour and say, “Keep to the plan, you fat bitch,” then complained when I refused.

“So, what is it?” I press her as lightly as I can, my entire body screwed up with dread.

“I’m going to fly to San Francisco on the first flight I can get and surprise Richard and propose!”

“What?” I nearly drop the phone. “No! Bad idea!”

What’s she planning to do, burst into his office? Wait on his
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  • Our Wedding Night    8

    LOTTIEI didn’t sleep all night.People say that, and what they mean is: I woke up a few times, made a cup of tea, and went back to bed. But I really didn’t sleep all night. I counted every hour going past.By one A.M. I’d decided that Fliss is totally, utterly wrong. By one-thirty I’d found myself a flight to San Francisco. By two A.M. I’d written the perfect, loving, and passionate proposal speech, including lines by Shakespeare, Richard Curtis, and Take That. By three A.M. I’d filmed myself making it (eleven takes). By four A.M. I’d watched myself and realized the horrible truth: Fliss is right. Richard will never say yes. He’ll just get freaked out. Especially if I make that speech. By five A.M. I’d eaten all the Pralines & Cream. By six A.M. I’d eaten all the Phish Food. And now I’m slumped on a plastic chair, feeling nauseous and regretting the lot of it.A tiny part of me still wonders if by walking out on Richard I made the biggest mistake of my life. If I’d hung on, bitten my

    Last Updated : 2022-12-17
  • Our Wedding Night    9

    Two hours later, I’ve scanned the CVs of about thirty students. (If Deborah is their CV adviser, then Deborah should be fired. That’s all I’m saying.) I’ve done a Q and A session on pensions and tax returns and self-employment law. I’veshared all the advice I think might help these guys. And in return I’ve learned a lot about many areas I was totally ignorant of, such as: 1) How you make someone look wounded in a movie; 2) which actress currently filming in London seems really sweet but is actually a total bitch to her makeup artist; and 3) how you do a grand jeté (I failed on that one).Now I’ve opened the floor to any subject at all, and a pale girl with pink streaky hair is speaking about the cost of shellac and how difficult it is to make the margins work if you want to open your own salon. I’m listening and trying to make helpful comments, but my attention keeps being drawn to another girl, sitting in the second row. Her eyes are red-rimmed and she hasn’t said a word, but she ke

    Last Updated : 2022-12-17
  • Our Wedding Night    10: Lottie

    LOTTIEThe first thing to say is that I look fabulous.The second thing is, I am not going to sleep with him. No. No, sirree. No, I am not.Even though I’ve been thinking about it all day. Even though I’ve been gently fizzing just at the memory. Him. How it was. How we were. I feel surreal and a bit light-headed. I can’t believe I’m going to see him. After all this time. Ben. I mean, Ben.Hearing his voice was like some sort of time-travel trigger. At once I was sitting opposite him at that rickety little table we used to commandeer in the evening. Olive trees all around. My bare feet resting in his lap. A can of ice-cold Sprite. I’d forgotten about my Sprite addiction till that very instant.Since then, memories and images have been resurfacing all day, some vague and some fully composed. His eyes. His scent. He was always so intense. That’s what I remember most. His intensity. He made me feel as though we were starring in our own movie, as though nothing mattered except him and me a

    Last Updated : 2022-12-17
  • Our Wedding Night    11

    And that was it. It felt magical. He wasn’t with the blond woman after all, and after the intermission he switched seats to be next to me. We went back to the opera on our first anniversary, and I thought we’d do it every year for the rest of our lives.So much for that. So much for telling the story at the wedding reception and everybody saying, Ahh …“Oh God.” Ben is peering at me. “I’m sorry. I’ve said something. What’s wrong?”“Nothing!” I smile hastily and blink. “Just … everything. You know. Life.” “Exactly. Exactly.” He nods fervently as though I’ve solved some massiveproblem he was wrestling with. “Lotts, do you feel as fucked up by life as I do?” “Yes.” I take a deep slug of wine. “Yes, I do. Even more so.”“When I was eighteen, when we were out there, I knew what I was about.” Ben is staring moodily into space. “I had clarity. But you start out in life and somehow it all gets … corroded. Corrupted. Everything closes in on you, you know what I mean? There’s no escape. There’

    Last Updated : 2022-12-17
  • Our Wedding Night    12

    “Stop it.”“Will you marry me?” Now he’s speaking more loudly. A couple at the next table look over and smile.“Shh!” I say irritably. “It’s not funny.”To my utter shock, he gets out of his seat, kneels down, and clasps his hands. I can see other diners turning to watch.My heart is pounding. No way. No way.“Charlotte Graveney,” he begins, swaying slightly. “I’ve spent fifteen years chasing pale imitations of you, and now I’m back here with the original I should never have let go. My life has been darkness without you and now I want to switch on the light. Will you do me the honor of marrying me? Please?”A weird sensation is stealing over me. I feel as if I’m turning into cotton wool.He’s proposing. He’s actually proposing. For real. “You’re drunk,” I parry.“Not that drunk. Will you marry me?” he repeats.“But I don’t know you anymore!” I give a half laugh. “I don’t know what you do for a living, I don’t know where you live, I don’t know what you want in life—”“Paper supply. Sh

    Last Updated : 2022-12-17
  • Our Wedding Night    13: Fliss

    FLISSI hope Lottie’s OK, I really do. I’ve been away for two weeks and I haven’t heard one word from her. She hasn’t answered any of my friendly texts, and the last phone call we had was when she was planning to fly to San Francisco and surprise Richard. As Unfortunate Choices go, that one took the biscuit. Thank God I headed it off.But since then: nothing. I’ve tried leaving voicemails as well as texting, but no response. I did manage to get through to her intern, who assured me that she was coming in to work every day—so at least I know she’s alive and well. But it’s not like Lottie to be incommunicado. It troubles me. I’ll go round and see her tonight, make sure she’s OK.I pull out my phone and send her yet another text: Hi, how’s it going??? Then I put it away and survey the school playground. It’s thronging with parents, children, nannies, dogs, and toddlers on scooters. It’s the first day of term, so there are lots of tanned faces and shiny shoes and new haircuts. And that’s

    Last Updated : 2022-12-17
  • Our Wedding Night    14

    There’s silence at the other end. I’m breathing fast. My hands feel sweaty around the steering wheel. I’m flashing back to my date with Nathan. I thought Iwas talking about Daniel in an amusing, detached, ironic way. Nathan never said a word to indicate he wasn’t having a good time. Is that what everyone’s been doing? Humoring me?“OK,” I say at last. “Well, now I know. Thanks for the heads-up.”“Anytime.” Barnaby’s cheerful voice resounds through the car. “Before you say it, I am your friend. And I do love you lots. But this is what you need. Tough love, Fliss. I’ll talk to you soon.”He rings off, and I signal left, chewing my bottom lip and glaring darkly at the road. It’s all very well. It’s all very well.When I get to work, I can see my in-box is full, but I sit at my desk, staring blindly at my computer. Barnaby’s words have stung me more than I want to admit to myself. I’m turning into a bitter, twisted hag. I’m going to end up a gnarled old crone in a black hood who scowls a

    Last Updated : 2022-12-17
  • Our Wedding Night    15

    I should never have relaxed. I should never have gone on holiday. I should have realized Lottie wouldn’t rest till she’d found something to channel all her hurt energy into. And it’s this. A marriage.By the time I get to Selfridges, my heart is thumping and I have a head full of questions. Lottie, on the other hand, has a basket full of underwear. No, not underwear, sex kit. She’s standing looking at a transparent basque as I hurtle toward her, almost knocking over a rail of Princesse Tam Tam teddies. As she sees me, she holds it up.“What do you think?”I eye the stuff in her basket. She’s clearly been at the Agent Provocateur concession. There’s lots of black see-through lace. And is that an eye mask?“What do you think?” she says impatiently, and jiggles the basque at me. “It’s quite expensive. Shall I try it on?”Isn’t there a slightly bigger question we should be discussing? I want to yell. Like: who is this Ben and why are you marrying him? But if I know one thing about Lottie,

    Last Updated : 2022-12-17

Latest chapter

  • Our Wedding Night    62: Fliss

    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

  • Our Wedding Night    61: Fliss

    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

  • Our Wedding Night    60: Fliss

    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

  • Our Wedding Night    59: Lottie

    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

  • Our Wedding Night    58: Lottie

    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

  • Our Wedding Night    57

    “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

  • Our Wedding Night    56: Fliss

    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

  • Our Wedding Night    55: Fliss

    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

  • Our Wedding Night    54: Lottie

    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

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