The Best Thing I Never Had (26 page)

‘Anyway.’ He consulted his notes. ‘Nicky and her housemates were being drunk and disorderly and absolutely murdering the great game of pool. I volunteered to show them what’s what – you know – what end of the cue to use to hit the balls and whatnot.’ He paused to allow the theatrical protesting from the girls on table one to die down. ‘And I knew, even then, that I was punching way above my weight. I mean, I had the third year appeal going for me, you know, older guy and all that, but still, I’m sure there isn’t a person here who isn’t thinking how I’ve married up!’

‘Hear, hear!’ joked Johnny, using his cupped hands as a megaphone.

‘And since that first night,’ Miles continued, ‘we’ve had seven and a half wonderful years together. We’ve seen loads of couples come together and break up. She’s seen me through finishing my degree, a Masters and a PhD.’ Miles nodded an acknowledgement at the light smattering of applause congratulating his academic accomplishments.

‘I needed to move to Bath to do my doctorate, and – rather than have us be apart – Nicky came with me. We couldn’t support ourselves if we both studied, so she got a job. We haven’t been able to afford nice things, or holidays, even a decent flat. Seriously. There’s a reason we haven’t had anyone over to stay!’ he laughed. ‘But all the time,’ he continued, his voice sobered, ‘I knew that my Nicky should be living in a palace. She could have anyone, be a glamorous footballer’s WAG and be treated like the queen she is, the way I wish I’d been able to spoil her.’ The room was prickly with an awkward silence; where was this ridiculous self-effacement going, the wedding guests were clearly wondering.

‘Anyway, pet, I have a little surprise. I know you don’t like surprises, but – trust me – this is a good one.’

‘You’re pregnant!’ heckled an apparently already inebriated second cousin from table six.

‘Yeah, that’s it,’ Miles deadpanned. ‘Surprised, Nic?’

‘A little, yeah!’ Nicky giggled. ‘Not to mention a little impressed.’

‘The surprise is,’ Miles continued, ‘that I’ve taken a sabbatical, of sorts.’

He could see he’d startled her; she placed her champagne down on the table a little aggressively.

‘What?’ she asked, eyes wide. The room was the most hushed it had been all afternoon. ‘Miles! You’ve just… you’ve
just
got your doctorate,
why
would you quit?’ She pointlessly remembered to lower her voice by the end of the sentence, as if they were actually having a private discussion.

‘I haven’t quit!’ he corrected her, his smile broadening. ‘I said
sabbatical
. Well, I guess actually ‘secondment’ would be the better term for it. Or maybe there’s an actual French word for it – you’ll know, I’m sure.’ He paused, allowing his words to sink in; Nicky just looked more confused and even wider of eye.

‘What?’ she repeated, after a moment.

‘I’ve been offered secondment at the University of Montpellier.’

‘The one in France?’ Nicky asked, her voice rising several octaves.

‘Yup, the one in France,’ Miles nodded. ‘I’ve checked. They run a term long TEFL course that would be subsidised for you if I’m on the staff. But we can stay in Bath, if you like, move into a nicer place now I’ll be earning. Or I can contact the University of London board and see what they can offer me by way of a post-doc placement.’ He paused; Nicky was staring up at him, lips parted, looking at him like he was a stranger. ‘Who knows? Maybe there’s a place for me in my old department here.’

Nicky seemed like she was in actual shock.

‘The important thing is, pet, this time, you choose. Whatever, wherever you want. I am totally at your pleasure.’ Finished, he beamed at her.

Nicky burst into tears.

‘Why didn’t you tell me?’ she cried, her words muffled by the fist she was pressing tightly to her mouth.

‘I… I wanted it to be a surprise,’ Miles answered, blinking uncertainly. He’d been expecting a much more positive reaction than this.

‘I am such a bitch!’ Nicky wailed. Miles stooped to grab her in alarm; he definitely hadn’t been expecting this. In the corner of his vision he could see that Harriet had risen to her feet and was crossing the short gap between their tables.

‘I think the bride is just a little overwhelmed!’ she announced in an overly-cheery voice, loudly, so that everyone could hear. ‘Champagne on an empty stomach and all. Up you come, Nic.’ She hoisted the taller girl up by the elbow. ‘I’m just going to take her to splash water on her face,’ she muttered to Miles. ‘Great speech, Miles!’ she said, louder. ‘Er, to the groom!’

‘To the groom!’ echoed table one, with false enthusiasm. The rest of the wedding guests repeated it as more of a confused mumble. Harriet shot a look towards the rather pallid looking Leigha and Sukie, who scrambled to their feet and followed Harriet as she bodily steered the tearful bride away from her wedding reception and towards the lavatories.

Nicky had already calmed herself down by the time they entered the bathroom. It was too late to save her makeup though, she’d really done a number on her expertly applied liquid eyeliner and volumising mascara; the overhead lighting wasn’t really helping either.

‘I’m okay, I’m okay,’ Nicky had been repeating since they left the table. ‘Oh my god. Oh my god.’

‘Do you have to say everything twice now you’re married?’ Sukie muttered under her breath. Leigha and Harriet shot her matching looks. Sukie rolled her eyes at them.

Leigha immediately ripped paper towels from the dispenser on the wall, taking them over to the sink and dampening them. Returning to Nicky, she put her fingers under her trembling chin and pushed her face up.

‘Come on, Nic,’ she said softly, using the corner of a wet towel to start wiping away the black smears on her cheeks. ‘Let’s sort you out.’

‘I’ve ruined my own wedding day!’ Nicky wailed.

‘No, no you haven’t,’ Harriet shushed her. ‘Nobody thinks that. It’s natural for the bride to get a little… emotional during the groom’s speech…’

‘No, I ruined it by my fucking about this morning!’ Nicky snapped. The three girls all winced; it was always like a little slap in the face when Nicky swore. ‘I was so… horrible to him… I won’t ever be able to forget…’

‘Nobody else knows that…’ Leigha said over her, trying to be helpful, but Nicky just kept up with her lament.

‘I didn’t give him even the smallest benefit of the doubt…’ she continued.

‘But obviously you did!’ Harriet insisted, using the same bright, overly-cheery tone that Leigha had tried. ‘Because – look! – you two are married. You didn’t leave him at the altar. It’s all okay.’

‘But I thought about it!’ Nicky cried.

‘Fucking hell,’ Sukie grumbled. ‘Newsflash! Stop the presses! ‘Woman gets momentary cold feet at altar’. I think not. Seriously, don’t even worry about it.’

‘It’s sort of his fault as well,’ Leigha pointed out. ‘He obviously knew you were unhappy but didn’t talk to you about it… wanted to wait for maximum impact on your big day.’ Leigha wadded the used paper towels into a ball and placed them down by the sink. She opened her glossy red clutch bag – which Roddy had kindly been holding during the ceremony – and began to pull out various compacts and tubes.

‘Yes, you’re both idiots,’ Sukie agreed. ‘Come on now, Nic. If we don’t get back out there it’s going to look weird. Plus they’ll be serving up the soup any minute now.’

‘Patê,’ Nicky corrected her, with a sniff.

‘Whatever.’

‘Hold still,’ Leigha frowned, as she carefully painted Nicky’s eyeliner flicks back into place. She fumbled on the side for the mascara; Harriet was already holding it out to her. Leigha took it from her, with a flicker of a frown, just beaten down in time.

‘France, Nic!’ Harriet said, squeezing the girl’s hand. ‘Better late than never!’

‘Are you going to go to France then? Not move into London?’ Leigha asked, titling her head as she concentrated on applying the mascara evenly.

‘I don’t know…’ Nicky admitted, in an astounded tone. ‘How can I even choose?’ She laughed. ‘I’ve gone from no options to too many in one fell swoop.’

‘I read an interesting article a few months ago. It says that women these days feel unsatisfied and unhappy because of precisely that.
Too much choice
. We can be anything we want now. We can be stay at home mothers, or we can be high-flying career women, and everything in between.’ Leigha slid the mascara wand back into its tube. ‘Stresses us all out.’ Sukie looked at her, incredulous, just about biting back the automatic response:
what’s the weather like in your world, Ley?
‘There!’ Leigha said, handing Nicky another paper towel for her to blot her lips on. ‘Good as new.’

Nicky turned and regarded her reflection; she bit her bottom lip. ‘I need to pull myself together,’ she said slowly.

‘Agreed,’ replied Sukie. ‘Some food will help, I’m sure.’ Leigha rolled her eyes and began to pack all of her makeup back into her bag.

‘Can we go and have a bit of a party now?’ she said, as the last lip gloss disappeared into the clutch. ‘I thought this was meant to be a celebration!’ she teased gently. Nicky gave a weak smile.

‘You girls have been great today. I’m sorry I’m such a car crash.’

‘We’re your friends,’ Harriet said, quietly. ‘Even if we don’t live with you any more, or see you all the time, that hasn’t changed.’ Leigha and Sukie both beamed in agreement, and Nicky’s smile grew a little sturdier.

‘Now, come on!’ Sukie urged. ‘I’m starving. I want me some soup.’

‘Patê!’ Nicky repeated, laughing.

‘Whatever.’

Nicky had re-emerged from the bathrooms, flanked by her three little yellow soldiers, looking none the worse for wear other than having a certain tightness to the set of her mouth. Miles reached out for her immediately, face all concern, and she went to him, stance apologetic, holding his face in between her hands and kissing him as she spoke quietly.

The waiting caterers had obviously taken this as a sign that they were good to go, and a sea of monochrome-clad waiting staff began to circle, dispensing plates of patê and rustic looking breads; the three course Wedding Breakfast – interspersed with much topping up of champagne glasses – was enthusiastically welcomed and devoured.

‘Do you remember, Su, I applied for this job, back in first year,’ Leigha said. ‘The events waitressing,’ she clarified, for the benefit of the rest of the table. ‘These will all be students, I bet,’ she said, circling her finger to indicate the waiting staff swarming the room, clearing away plates of what had been a passion-fruit and white chocolate mousse.

‘That was delicious!’ boomed Roddy, leaning back in his chair and smacking his trim stomach as if it had suddenly become a full on Father Christmas belly. ‘I don’t usually like patê – bit faffy – but that was really nice. Great starter, not too rich.’

‘I don’t know, I would have preferred soup,’ Leigha smirked, obviously some sort of in-joke, as it prompted titters from Sukie and even a faint smile from Harriet.

The guy with the top hat and the loud voice – the Master of Ceremonies – clapped his hands for the room’s attention.

‘If you wouldn’t mind waiting outside, ladies and gentlemen, whilst we set the DJ up and clear the room for this evening’s entertainment? The champagne bottles will be following you out, worry not!’ he chortled. The wedding guests dutifully stood and filed out of the room as instructed.

Adam noticed that Harriet hung back, still at the table, fiddling with her bag, looking in it for something; considering the bag was only tiny, it seemed to be taking an inordinately long time.

Miles and Nicky had moved to join them. Nicky still seemed a bit subdued but they were holding hands and Miles seemed cheerful enough; Adam decided not to allude to the little outburst by asking Nicky if she was okay.

‘Going to be hard to follow me, eh mate?’ Miles smirked, smug with confidence.

‘Oh ho, don’t you worry!’ laughed Adam, winking at Nicky, ‘my speech is going to be great. I’m going to have tears, laughter, start arguments amongst your guests, horrify Nic when I reveal that a couple of years ago we all went on a boys’ holiday to Vegas and you married a stripper –’

‘Nah, you’re thinking of
The Hangover
, mate,’ Johnny said. ‘Miles married the ladyboy that worked at the hotel bar.’

‘Oh yeah!’ Adam slapped his hand to his forehead in mock-realisation. ‘How could I have forgotten that little detail?’

‘I’ll have you know that he was a kind and gentle lover,’ Miles joked, as they all moved out into the entrance hall. ‘And on that note, we’d better go mingle. You guys all okay for champagne? Hey, can we get some top-ups over here?’ he called to the bottle-wielding waiters, without waiting for a response. ‘See you in a bit.’

Before following her new husband, Nicky moved closer to Adam and squeezed his forearm. ‘Just wanted to say thank you,’ she murmured, only for his ears.

‘For what?’

‘I think everyone is taking their cue from you. About Harriet, I mean. You’ve been nice to her so nobody feels right about giving her a hard time.’ Adam scratched his neck awkwardly.

‘Nothing to thank me for,’ he said. ‘It’s a non-issue.’ Nicky looked at him, her expression faintly disbelieving.

‘Either way,’ she said, ‘it’s really making our lives easier. I’m sure Harriet would thank you too…’

‘She already has, actually,’ Adam admitted, with a little smile. Nicky nodded, and with one more squeeze floated away, the bottom of her bell-shaped dress skimming the wooden floor.

Having replenished the rest of the group’s drinks, the waiter had moved towards Adam and waited patiently during the interchange with Nicky. With a grateful smile, Adam held his glass out to receive the stream of champagne. Roddy was entertaining everyone with an anecdote about his brother’s wedding; Adam was only half-listening as he thanked the server and brought his drink to his lips.

‘Hey,’ Demi said, quietly, ‘someone seems to have done a little disappearing act.’ Adam looked at him, not following. ‘Harriet,’ Demi clarified, nodding towards the now closed double doors back into the reception hall. ‘I don’t think I’ve seen her come out. She must have slipped past us. You don’t think she’s going to call it an early night, now that the proper part of the evening’s all done? Leigha and Su haven’t been bad to her at all, really.’