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Authors: Jenny Colgan

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BOOK: Amanda's Wedding
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‘Angus!' I mimicked under my breath, then gave up and grinned at him. He grinned back and sat down opposite me and next to Fran, his heavy ribbed grey jumper taking up more than half his side. He pushed back his dark red hair.

‘Well?' he said heartily.

I looked at Fran. ‘Breakfast first!' she said, and we trooped up and ordered bacon, sausage, mushrooms, tomatoes, beans, eggs, and white bread and butter, with a cholesterol seizure to follow.

‘I am honour bound to say,' began Fran, once we were all tucking in, ‘Mel doesn't want me to play this tape.'

‘Why not?' said Angus, looking at me intently.

‘Well, you know, there was this big bunch of free champagne, and Amanda says lots of incriminating things, and I say, you know, lots of moronic things,' I said quickly.

He smiled and his eyes went all crinkly. ‘Och, I never say anything stupid when I'm drunk.'

I smiled back. ‘Actually, normally I make trenchant political speeches about the European monetary system. I do not know what came over me on Friday.'

‘Must have been a bad pint … of champagne.'

‘OK, you two, have you got a sec?'

‘Yes,' said Angus. ‘Bravery of the officer noted.'

Fran brought the recorder out. I cringed, and paid very close attention to my sausage. Angus watched me quizzically.

The mannered tones came across clearly:

‘You know, I'm only telling you this for your own good, but you can be incredibly naïve, Melanie. This … I
mean, hell, it's a great excuse to have a party, but it's also a bloody practical affair. That castle needs sorting out, and Daddy's happy to put up the loot to do it with.'

Angus's face went red. ‘Bloody cow,' he said vehemently.

‘Don't you love him?' That was me, and I winced.

‘He's a nice chap. It's a good situation. It'll be a fabulous wedding.'

She went on to talk about Fraser being all right, and someone who would have no objections to her living her life.

‘Does Fraser think that?' I whispered to Angus.

‘Of course he fucking doesn't.' His fried egg was all but forgotten.

Here came my big set speech.

‘I don't care,' I heard myself howl petulantly. ‘I do believe in all that crap.' On and on and on. ‘So, I think you lose!' My voice cracked at this bit, as I got ready for stomping off. My entire body cringed.

Fran switched the tape off after that.

‘Thanks,' I grimaced at her. ‘You could have switched it off before.'

‘Could I?'

Then we just sat there in silence for a bit. Angus looked cross. ‘He's so stupid,' he said. ‘I can't believe he's a year older than me but so completely stupid.' Then he looked at me across the grimy table.

‘Do you really think all that stuff you said?' he asked suddenly.

I shrugged. ‘Maybe. I'm sorry about the castle bit.'

‘Well, I don't think it's embarrassing at all. And the castle is complete crap. I think you were quite right,' he said. ‘And so does Fraser. That's why we've got to stop him getting into this mess.'

‘Are you going to play it to him?' asked Fran.

Angus heaved a sigh.

‘I don't know.'

‘Gus!' I implored him. ‘After what I went through?'

‘Oh yes, I only did the taping and wore the wire and sorted it all out and switched it on and off inconspicuously,' huffed Fran.

Angus looked at the remains of his breakfast. ‘Oh God, it's just so embarrassing. And so wrong.'

We nodded our heads.

‘But I suppose I have to.'

We nodded our heads again.

Fran got up to refill her coffee cup.

‘Mel,' Angus whispered urgently, ‘would you … would you come with me when I play the tape?'

I was touched.

‘Well, yeah … Why did you ask me?'

‘Ehm … in case it gets a bit messy and he tries to punch me or something. And you and Fran are the only women I know down here.'

‘Oh, right. Why don't you ask her?'

‘I will if you like. But you know Fraser and … and, well, I'd rather have you.'

‘Cool. OK.'

‘OK what?' said Fran, rejoining us.

‘OK, that is definitely the best way to lift scum off a cup of tea,' I said, picking up my cup.

‘Fascinating,' said Fran. ‘Do you know, I think you two are made for each other.'

We had to pick a night Amanda would be out. Fortunately, that was every night, so it wasn't too difficult. She'd moved Fraser into her little pied-à-terre, after complaining too vehemently about his shared boy-tip in Finsbury Park and the copies of
FHM
left wrinkled up by the toilet for use in emergencies. They were only there temporarily: her father was scouring London for a large townhouse suitable for his noble offspring.

Where they lived at the moment turned out to be a small but immaculate apartment in a mansion block in St John's Wood, next to Regent's Park. Angus and I met up beforehand, to plan, and for moral support. The November wind was freezing as we walked across the park. Angus betrayed his nerves by constantly kicking leaves out of the way.

‘Right,' said Angus, ‘how are we going to do this?'

‘Have you got the tape?'

‘OK, let's start a little later than that bit.'

‘Ehm … really, I think we should just go in and not be nice at all. Just push past him with stern faces and say, “Look Fraser, there's something we have to tell you.'”

‘In a deep American voice?'

‘Yeah.'

I wrapped my arms around me.

‘Are you cold?'

‘Nervous. And cold.'

He clapped his arm round me briefly, which did the trick, as I blushed incredibly red and got warm almost immediately.

‘We're nearly there.'

‘We have to be brutal about this, Gus. We've got to walk in, just tell him, put the tape on and get out of there. He'll forgive you in – oh, four or five years.'

Angus didn't say anything.

‘What? Are you wishing you had brought Fran after all?'

‘No … I was just thinking.'

‘What?'

He looked around.

‘That it's a nice night for a walk. It feels such a shame that we're going to, well, you know …'

‘Do a nasty thing.'

‘Yes.'

We walked on.

‘Actually, it's a freezing cold and miserable night for a walk,' I said.

‘Yes. I suppose it is.'

‘Shall we go and do a nasty thing then?'

‘Yeah, all right.'

My mysterious and stone-faced FBI persona lasted about ten seconds after Fraser answered the door.

‘Hi! Come in, great to see you! Hello, Mel dear.' He kissed me on the cheek. Every time I saw him, I remembered how lovely he was.

This was not going to be easy.

‘Did you survive the hen night all right? ‘manda told me it was amazing.'

‘Yeah, yeah, it was.'

‘Hello, Gustard.' He playfully punched Angus on the stomach. Angus was doing better than me, and gave a quiet half-smile.

‘Come in, come in. What do you want? Beer, wine …?'

He split off into the kitchen and we trooped into the tiny but tasteful living room. The carpet and the sofas were white, which made me extremely nervous. There was a leopardskin bean bag in the corner and some expensive-looking candlesticks dotted around. Fraser had put out little bowls of peanuts and crisps, obviously in anticipation of our visit. They gazed at me pitifully, so I ate a few for luck.

‘Amanda doesn't like people coming round usually – she worries about the carpet,' said Fraser, emerging from the kitchen with three glasses and an open bottle of red wine. I gulped.

‘Really? Where is she tonight then?' I asked.

Angus shot me a dirty look and I realized this was not the time for small talk.

Fraser motioned for us to sit down and make ourselves comfortable. The sofa was squashier than it looked and, as I sank into it, a dribble from the wine glass made its way over the side. Fortunately, it dropped on to my trousers. Angus stayed standing up.

‘Oh, God knows. She's always disappearing to some do or other.' He laughed. ‘I can't keep up.'

‘Don't you go?'

‘No chance. Totally BORING.'

I nodded, and took some more crisps. ‘Actually, the hen night …'

Angus cleared his throat overdramatically and we both looked up at him. He pulled the tape recorder out and sat down next to me. I covered my glass with my hand.

‘Fraser,' he said seriously, ‘Melanie and I …'

Fraser smiled at the sombreness of the tone, but leaned forward to hear.

‘We have something to say to you about your wedding.'

We did? I didn't remember agreeing this.

‘Well, really, I'm more here for moral support …' I said.

Angus ignored me, continuing: ‘Fraser, Ah hate to have to tell you this, but … Ah don't think you should marry Amanda.'

Fraser sighed and gulped his wine. ‘I don't believe it. I mean, you have actually told me that before. In fact, nearly every day since I met her. Please don't say that's what you came here for. God, and I thought you were coming round to visit me.'

‘Aye, well. And Mel agrees with me.'

Fraser looked at me, wounded.

‘But I thought …'

I gazed back at his stricken face, feeling horribly guilty and embarrassed.

Angus ploughed on regardless: ‘And we've got some proof … I'm sorry.' He put the tape recorder down
on the table. One of the wrought-iron candlesticks fell over.

‘What's going on?' asked Fraser. ‘Are you forming some Moonie-type cult which aims to outlaw marriage for brothers?'

‘No.'

‘Then why the fuck don't you just keep your nose out of it?'

‘Because your ma brother, for fuck's sake.'

‘What's on that tape?'

‘Melanie talked to her. She doesn't love you, you idiot. She just wants to have some kind of title and swank about and get in
Hello!
magazine and have posh people for friends because she's actually a completely shallow cow.'

Fraser looked at the tape as if it was a snake.

‘Is that what she says?' he asked me.

‘Not exactly,' I whispered. My voice sounded shaky. I felt absolutely terrible.

He stalked to the other side of the room – which, given the size of it, took two seconds – grabbed the sill and stared out of the sash windows.

‘Play the damn thing then.'

Angus was looking at me, but I couldn't look back. This was much much worse than I ever thought it would be. I'd had visions of him even thanking us. Angus leaned over and clicked the switch, and there it came again:

‘You're so naïve, Melanie.'

It echoed in my brain like a special effect.

‘You're so naïve, Melanie.'

Of course I was, otherwise what was I doing in this tiny, pristine, overheated room, betraying one friend and losing another?

‘You're so naïve, Melanie.'

Who did I think I was, Mystic Meg? What had I done this for? Silently, I began to cry. This lovely, gorgeous bloke was still going to get married, and he was going to hate me into the bargain.

Fraser stood stock-still, looking out into the rain and the heavy traffic. Fortunately, Angus managed to stop the tape before my big speech, so at least we were spared that.

Nobody spoke for what seemed like a long time. I was trying to dry my tears without anyone noticing. Unfortunately, to maintain the silence, I had to let some snot drop out of my nose so I didn't have to sniff. It plopped quietly on to the white rug, and I rubbed it with my foot.

Finally, Fraser turned round.

‘So, actually, she didn't say any of those things you mentioned, about the title and the magazines and all that shit.'

I could feel Angus looking at me, but I couldn't return his gaze. Fraser's voice was furious.

‘In fact, she spoke for ten seconds about keeping her individuality after she gets married and having thought the damn thing through beforehand, and you take that as proof that she's some kind of social-climbing bitch. Like you know anything about my wedding, or about my girlfriend or my own fucking life. Not only that, you manage to draft some of my friends into this idiotic
scheme … Melanie, are you crying?'

BOOK: Amanda's Wedding
5.75Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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