The Secret Life of Evie Hamilton - Catherine Alliott [164]
Meanwhile, back at the marquee, the wedding reception was recovering its equilibrium. Bridesmaids' tears were mopped, the top table was relaid with fresh china and glasses, and Alice, being a game girl, and no wuss, was encouraged to see the funny side. Was led to believe it was a wedding that would go down in the annals of history, one to be relived, reshown – had anyone got it on video? They had, well, there you are! And Alice, not being a dewy-eyed ingénue, but a cool and sassy twenty-six, rose to the occasion, and did not sob that her wedding had been ruined, but roared with laughter, along with friends, about what a hoot it had been; what a day.
My day, however, continued on its remorselessly un-amusing course. Ant, whom I'd taken my eyes off for one minute to watch the rutting pig show, had gone. I stood on the lawn outside the marquee, casting about frantically. I ran this way and that, cursing myself for being so stupid as to let him out of my sight. Then, suddenly I glimpsed him, sitting on the river bank, further downstream, beside Clarence. Clarence was in his shirtsleeves: his broad back harnessed by red braces, the gold clips glinting in the sun. Ant was a tall man, but he looked slight beside him. And beaten. Shoulders hunched, he was clearly giving a great deal of attention to what Clarence had to say as he contemplated the river. My instinct was to run to him, but sensibly, I hesitated. Gave them a few moments. Then Clarence saw me. He stood up and jerked his head meaningfully. I walked uncertainly towards them.
Clarence smiled down at Ant. ‘He's all yours,’ he murmured.
He sauntered away towards Malcolm, who, looking like he was welcoming back a conquering hero, was hurrying up the river bank towards us. Eyes glistening with pride, he was unable to resist hissing in my ear before he scooped his arm through his boyfriend's and swept him away, ‘Did you see him? Did you see Clarence? Wasn't he magnificent?’
I sat down uncertainly beside Ant. He stayed staring at the water, arms locked loosely around his knees. I too regarded the stream: fast and tawny at this point, rushing and tumbling around the smooth brown rocks. It occurred to me I knew every inch of this river. Every inch of this farm. The silence deepened. As it threatened to persist, a lump rose in my throat. Then Ant turned and gave me a lopsided smile.
‘It appears I've made a complete tit of myself.’
I swallowed the lump and breathed again.
‘Oh, I wouldn't say that,’ I warbled.
‘Those flowers. That note.’ He shook his head, bewildered. ‘I'm afraid I just saw red. I wanted to kill him. But Clarence says he just saw you through the bedroom window across the street. Saw you in your—’
‘Yes,’ I interrupted quickly. ‘Let's not go into what I was in.’
‘Still. Quite a familiar thing to write.’
‘I know. I'm sorry.’
He shrugged. ‘Not your fault.’
‘Well…’ I hesitated. No. Leave it, Evie. Not your fault.
‘And then I rang Anna, to see if she knew where you were, and she was really upset. Said she'd seen you hugging some man at her gymkhana, some young chap with dark hair, and that one of the girls, the DC's daughter, had been spreading rumours that you'd been seen snogging him in a stable.’
‘Oh!’
‘I flipped, I'm afraid.’
‘Oh no, Ant, it wasn't like that. I—’
‘I know, I know,’ he interrupted wearily, running a hand through his hair. ‘Clarence explained that too.’
Did he? I boggled. Did Clarence know about that? Yes, I'd told him and Malcolm on the barge. Still, it took some diplomacy. Some explaining.
‘I don't dispute that you are blameless, Evie,’ Ant went on carefully, judicially even, as if I was the accused