‘Okay,’ he said warily. ‘I’m listening.’
She could tell from his voice that he was happy. Happy without me. Is it my fault? What did I do wrong?
She shoved those foolish thoughts aside. ‘I’ve told Pippa what’s happening,’ she said. ‘I had to. She couldn’t understand why you weren’t here with us.’
‘I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to dump that responsibility on you.’ He did not sound very sorry. ‘I’ve told the Secret Service, not that they hadn’t guessed.’
She said: ‘You still need to talk to her. She has a lot of questions and I can’t answer them all.’
‘Is she with you now?’
‘No, she’s in her own room, but she has her phone, you could call her.’
‘I will. What was the other thing? You said you had two.’
‘Yes.’ Pauline was determined not to quarrel with the man she had loved for years. If it was possible, she wanted them both to think fondly of their time together. ‘I just wanted to say thank you,’ she said. ‘Thank you for the good times. Thank you for loving me as long as you did.’
There was a short silence, and when he spoke he sounded choked up. ‘That’s a wonderful thing to say.’
‘You supported me for years. You deserved more time and attention than I could spare. Too late now, I know, but I’m sorry about that.’
‘You don’t have anything to apologize for. I was privileged to be with you. It was mostly good, wasn’t it?’
‘Yes,’ said Pauline. ‘It was mostly good.’
*
Some people could not tear themselves away from the TV. Others were partying like it was the end of the world. Tamara and Tab were partying.
Against all the odds they had managed to get married within hours of making the decision and had also organized a wedding party.
Tamara had wanted the humanist woman who had officiated at the marriage of Drew Sandberg, the embassy press officer, to Annette Cecil of MI6. She had called Annette and asked for the woman’s number.
‘Tamara!’ Annette had screeched. ‘You’re getting married! Darling, how marvellous!’
‘Calm down, calm down.’
‘Who is he? I didn’t even know you were dating.’
‘Don’t get excited, it’s not for me, it’s for a friend.’
Annette did not believe her. ‘You secretive cow. I’m desperate to know.’
‘Please, Annette, just give me the contact details.’
Annette yielded and produced the information.
The humanist celebrant was called Claire and she was free this evening.
‘It’s on,’ Tamara had said to Tab, and she had kissed him exuberantly. ‘Now, where shall we hold the ceremony and the party?’
‘The Lamy Hotel has a lovely private room that looks out onto the gardens. It holds about a hundred people. We could do the ceremony and the party in the same place.’
They spent the day organizing everything. The Oasis Room at the Lamy was available. The hotel had large stocks of Travers vintage champagne. Tab booked it.
‘Are we going to have dancing?’ he said.
‘Oh, yes. I fell in love with you when I saw how badly you dance.’
The Malian jazz band Desert Funk were free, and Tamara booked them.
They sent the invitations by email.
Late that afternoon Tamara stood at the open door of Tab’s closet, looking at his suits, and said: ‘What shall we wear?’
‘We must dress up,’ he said immediately. ‘Everyone must know this isn’t, like, a Las Vegas wedding, even though it’s been organized at the last minute. It’s a real marriage, for life.’
After that she had to kiss him again. Then she returned to the closet. ‘Tuxedo?’
‘Nice idea.’
She noticed a plastic suit cover bearing the words Teinturerie de l’Opéra. It came from a dry cleaner presumably situated near the Place de l’Opéra in Paris. ‘What’s in here?’
‘White tie and tails. I’ve never worn that outfit in Chad. That’s why it’s still in the cleaner’s bag.’
She took the suit out. ‘Oh, Tab, you’ll look gorgeous in this.’
‘I have been told it flatters me. But then you’ll have to wear a ball gown.’
‘That’s all right. I have the perfect dress. You’ll get a hard-on just looking.’
At eight o’clock that evening the Oasis Room was packed with about double the number of guests they had invited. No one was turned away.