The Witness at the Wedding. Simon Brett

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      ‘Yes, of course.’

      ‘Thing is, I don’t really want to waste your time.’

      ‘I’m sure you wouldn’t be wasting my time.’

      ‘No, but coming tomorrow morning, well, I’m not sure that . . . Point is, my back actually feels better, so I think we should take a rain check on it.’

      ‘OK. It’s your back, it’s your decision.’

      ‘Sure. Sorry to mess you around.’

      ‘No problem. And if it does get bad again, and you’re in the area, just give me a call.’

      ‘Yes. Thanks. Bye.’

      Slightly odd, thought Jude. But not that odd. Backs, she knew, worked by a logic all their own.

      Half an hour later she tiptoed up again to the spare room.

      Gita Millington was out cold, her face more relaxed and younger in sleep. The short-sleeved nightdress revealed what the tracksuit top had hidden.

      A bandage held in place a dressing over the slashes on the inside of her left wrist.

Chapter Three

      ‘Hi, it’s Gaby. I spoke to them.’

      Not expecting the phone call, Carole couldn’t think what her future daughter-in-law was talking about.

      ‘My parents,’ came the explanation. ‘I’ve talked to them about us getting together.’

      ‘Oh yes, of course.’ Their lunchtime conversation in the Crown and Anchor came back.

      ‘I suggested us meeting in London. Hope that’ll be all right with you?’

      ‘Yes, fine. Halfway.’

      ‘Well, Harlow’s a bit nearer London than Fethering, but . . .’

      ‘It’s not a problem. When did you have in mind?’

      ‘They could do next Tuesday. Rather make it lunch, if it suits you. They’re not very keen on going back on the train late.’

      ‘Lunch on Tuesday would suit me very well,’ said Carole, wondering for a moment how old Gaby’s parents were. There had, of course, been talk of her father’s pension. But then again, Carole herself had a pension. And she too would try to avoid late-night trains if she could.

      ‘Haven’t worked out where yet, but I’ll give you a call in the next couple of days.’

      ‘Fine,’ said Carole, already starting to feel nervous at the prospect of the meeting ahead.

      ‘I’ll be there, of course, but I’m not sure whether Steve will be able to get away from work. Everything seems pretty frantic there at the moment.’

      ‘Well, be nice to see him if he can. But if he can’t, he can’t.’ Another potential cause for disquiet loomed up in front of Carole. ‘Erm . . . will you be inviting David to the lunch?’

      Gaby sounded surprised. ‘I hadn’t intended to. I mean, he has already met Mum and Dad.’ Yes, of course he would have done, thought Carole with another pang of jealousy. ‘But I could invite him, if you like?’

      ‘No, no. No need at all,’ came the hasty response. ‘Well, I’ll really look forward to meeting your parents. I’m sorry, I don’t think you’ve ever mentioned what their names are.’

      ‘Oh, haven’t I? No, you’re right, I probably haven’t. Well, they’re Marie and Howard.’

      ‘Marie and Howard, right.’

      ‘And they’re . . .’ Gaby hesitated, uncertain how to put the next bit. ‘They’re very . . . quiet. I mean, not flamboyant people. They live a sort of . . .’ no other adjective offered itself ‘. . . quiet life.’

      ‘That’s fine. So do I.’

      ‘Yes, but I mean even quieter than yours. I—’ But the words wouldn’t come to describe exactly what Gaby was trying to say. ‘You’ll know what I mean when you meet them.’

      ‘Fine. As I say, I’ll look forward to it,’ said Carole with even less conviction than she’d had when she last used the words. ‘Oh, by the way, I gather you’ve talked to Jude.’

      ‘Yes.’

      ‘Good. How is the back now?’

      ‘Much better, actually. I almost feel a bit of a fraud. It’s always better in the evening. Steve and I have had a good dinner at the hotel and I’m feeling more relaxed.’

      ‘Glad to hear it.’

      ‘In fact, I’ve rung Jude, and cancelled our appointment in the morning.’

      ‘Oh.’

      ‘Yes.’ There was a silence, as if Gaby was about to say something else.

      ‘Well, I’d better be getting on,’ said Carole. ‘That is, unless there was anything else.’

      ‘No. No . . . Well, just . . .’

      ‘What, Gaby?’

      ‘Carole, please be very gentle with my parents, won’t you?’

      Which, to Carole’s way of thinking, was an extremely odd thing to say.

      Carole had spent the rest of the following day putting it off. Gulliver had no idea why he had had an extra-long walk that afternoon, but he was delighted anyway. By the evening, though, Carole knew there was no escape. She’d made the decision and she had to go through with it.

      Carole Seddon had an almost photographic memory for figures and especially phone numbers. She could still remember most of the numbers she had dialled regularly during her Home Office career, and at home never resorted to the use of the storing facility or quickdial on her phone. There was one number, however, to which she had never given houseroom in her mind, so she was forced to look it up in her address book.

      He answered straightaway.

      ‘David, it’s Carole.’

      ‘Ah yes. Stephen said you might be calling.’

      So the stage management had been busying away on both sides of the divide. His voice, even in the few words he had spoken, opened a Pandora’s box of unwelcome emotions, but Carole pressed on. This was just something that had to be done. ‘I’m meeting up with Gaby’s parents next Tuesday.’

      ‘Yes . . . erm. So I gathered.’

      She always forgot about the ‘erm’ until she heard it again. David’s erm was a nervous tic. He uttered very few sentences that didn’t contain at least one. Carole remembered the agony of anticipating СКАЧАТЬ