The Secret Life of Evie Hamilton - Catherine Alliott [32]
‘How exciting! Oh, I'm so pleased!’
And the thing is, even as I was gushing, I knew there was a bit of Caro that knew what I was thinking, because we'd known each other for donkey's years and talked about boys and weddings and what our bridesmaids would wear and what our children would be called, and all the silly things girls aren't supposed to talk about as they're doggedly pursuing their careers but do. So as she's telling me breathlessly about the village church, and the marquee at the farm, she knows too that I also want the village church, and a marquee at the farm. She knows my hopes and dreams, which is the good thing about a best friend and also the bad, so she knows my insides are curdling, but she can't help it. Can't help it, and why should she? She's getting married, she's first, she's won. And her eyes, when they look at mine, are full of happiness and shame. Happiness and shame. And I'm galvanized. I will be next, I will!
Ant wasn't stupid. Far from it. The four of us had been hanging around together for some time, and now two of our number were going it alone.
That night, after we'd made love, in that sticky, rather exciting way one does in hot villas, in our little whitewashed room with the crucifix over the bed and the view of the bay, the waves rushing up the beach, he held me close.
‘Lovely for Tim and Caro,’ I murmured into his shoulder.
Yes, I know, a bit obvious, but as I said, it's primal. And actually, it would have been odd not to mention it.
‘Hm,’ he murmured sleepily. Then, after a moment, ‘They'll be good together.’
My heart flipped at this. Did that mean… he thought we wouldn't?
‘Yes, they will.’
Silence.
‘They're quite different,’ I ventured, wanting at all costs to prolong this line of chat.
‘Hm.’
‘Don't you think?’
‘You mean, Tim's easy-going and Caro's a control freak?’
I laughed. ‘I suppose. But actually, Tim probably needs a bit of control. Needs… I don't know… gripping.’
‘Hmph.’
Silence. I took a deep breath. ‘So… how d'you think we'd check out? As a team?’ Blimey, Evie.
We'd slipped apart now, on account of the heat, and were lying side by side, the sheet thrown off: the over twenty-five-year-old girlfriend and her man.
After a moment, Ant rolled over on top of me and propped himself up the better to look at me, his elbows either side of my head. The moon, through the open window, lit up his face. Thoughtful. Sincere. My heart began to palpitate. Oh my God… this was it. This… was… it! His eyes searched my face, my hair, then—
‘Got it!’
He thwacked the pillow, spun round and sat up, showing me a squashed mosquito in the palm of his hand.
‘I've just saved you from certain pain. This bloodsucking parasite was about to take a slurp from your cheek.’
I sat up beside him and, using the wrong muscles, grinned gamely at his hand. Wanted to bite it. ‘They always go for me.’
He kissed my cheek. ‘Sweet blood, that's why. They like that. Night.’
‘Night.’
Tim and Caro got married in the autumn. And it was lovely, of course it was. Heaven. It was in the village church, naturally, right beside our house, on a fine October day, and I was chief bridesmaid in a midnight-blue velvet dress, very sophisticated and without a hint of meringue, and Ant was an usher, devastatingly handsome in a morning coat. Caro looked radiant in ivory silk, with tiny blue velvet bows sewn just above the hem – I know you need to know this whether you're over twenty-five or not – and velvet ribbons hanging from her bouquet, which was cream rosebuds. Mum looked very pretty in her hippyish way, in a long flowery dress