Henry smiles, his point proven.
‘What else?’
‘That’s enough.’
I squeeze his wrists. ‘I want to know what he said.’
‘He said you were ticklish and giggled like a four-year-old.’
‘I do not.’
Henry suddenly lifts me up and spins me over on the bed, blowing a raspberry into my belly button, making me laugh so hard that I threaten to pee my pants.
14
Tempe seems different today. Brighter. Less burdened. She’s wearing worn jeans and a simple white blouse with her hair spilling over her shoulders.
‘You look happy.’
‘I am,’ she replies, sliding into the bench seat opposite me.
The café is full of Monday-morning customers, mothers and nannies, some pushing prams, others in gym gear. She has something to tell me, but makes me wait until we’ve ordered. Instead, we talk about my mother and her foibles. How pernickety she is about hanging washing so she doesn’t leave peg marks on the fabric. And how she arranges her bills using the due dates and doesn’t pay them until the last possible moment.
‘She joined Instagram and I’m the only person she follows,’ I say. ‘And her handbag contains absolutely everything. Wet wipes. Painkillers. Sachets of sugar. Spare batteries.’
‘And a lint roller,’ says Tempe.
We laugh.
‘Well, it won’t be for much longer. I’ve found you somewhere to stay.’
I describe the one-bedroom flat in Wandsworth, which is due to be renovated, but perfectly liveable, according to my father.
‘I insist on paying rent,’ says Tempe.
‘Whatever you can afford. And you’ll need furniture.’
She reaches across the table and takes my hand. It’s unexpected and intimate. ‘I also have news.’ She pauses, heightening the suspense. ‘I’ve found you a wedding venue. It’s not far from St Mary’s and is available on September the fourth. A Saturday.’
‘Where?’
‘Milford Barn?’
‘But that place is booked out until sometime next century.’
‘Not any longer.’
‘What happened?’
‘A cancellation.’
‘But we’re not on any waiting list.’
‘You are now. And you’re first. The place is yours, but they need a deposit by Thursday. Two thousand pounds. Is that too much?’ She looks at me hopefully. ‘Did I do well?’
I’m grinning. ‘You’re amazing. I can’t believe you managed to get Milford Barn. The manager almost laughed at me when I called her.’
‘It can seat two hundred guests, but you can have less. The church is only half a mile away.’
‘How did you know?’
‘You told me.’
‘Right. Yes. I forgot.’
My mind is racing ahead. I have less than three months to prepare. I should send out save-the-date cards and arrange a photographer and a florist.
‘I took the liberty of booking Robbie Honey to do the flowers,’ says Tempe. ‘And I’m putting out feelers to see if Matthew Voss can take the wedding pictures. I was hoping to get Alexi, but he’s busy.’
‘Alexi?’
‘Lubomirski. He did Harry and Meghan’s engagement photographs.’
‘How do you know these people?’
‘It’s my job.’
‘But the cost – we can’t afford …’
‘It won’t be expensive, I promise. They’ll do it for me.’
‘When you said you could help … I didn’t think … or expect.’
Tempe laughs and reaches into her shoulder bag for her laptop. Shifting our coffee cups to one side, she opens it on the table.
‘Here are some sample invitations.’
We go through the options, choosing colours and typefaces. It’s like we’ve been planning this all our lives, yet a small doubt snags on my happiness. The cost. I don’t want to ask my father for help, because he will try to take over and arrange something ridiculously grand like his birthday party.
‘What’s wrong?’ asks Tempe.
‘Nothing.’
‘Are you having second thoughts?’
‘Not about the wedding. I have to talk to Henry. This is happening so quickly.’
‘I can slow down.’
‘No, no, you keep going.’ I glance at my phone. ‘I promised Henry we’d take Archie to the park.’
We are standing on the footpath, outside the café.
‘I haven’t even asked about you,’ I say. ‘How are you?’
‘Another time,’ says Tempe, putting her laptop away. ‘This was nice.’
‘Better than nice. You should come to dinner. You have to meet the groom. Henry is a great cook.’
‘I’d like that.’
We are outside on the pavement. Tempe checks her phone.
‘Did Darren Goodall ever talk about his former girlfriends?’ I ask.
‘Not really.’
‘One of them died in some sort of accident. She fell from a cliff.’
Tempe doesn’t react. I want to ask her if she thinks Goodall is capable of killing someone, but I don’t want to hear the answer.
‘He’s looking for me, you know,’ she says, absent-mindedly.
‘How do you know?’
‘He doesn’t let people go … not unless he’s finished with them.’
She glances past me, as though expecting Goodall to be watching us.
‘Let’s talk later,’ I say, moving to kiss her cheek. At the last moment, she turns her face and our lips meet. The contact is only brief, but it surprises me and I pull away.
‘I’m sorry,’ says Tempe. ‘That’s something we do in our family – kiss on the lips. Did it shock you?’
‘I wasn’t prepared, that’s all.’
‘Some people kiss on one cheek, some on two cheeks; I kiss on the lips. Only friends. I won’t do it again, if you …’
‘No, it’s fine.’
‘Call me when you’ve talked to Henry.’
‘I will.’
15
‘Are you allowed to be friends with this woman?’ asks Henry, as he pushes Archie on a swing. ‘Isn’t she a witness, or a victim, or something like that?’
‘She didn’t give a statement. No charges were laid.’
‘It still seems odd – befriending someone you rescued.’
We’re on the west side of Clapham Common in a playground that has colourful wooden tunnels and slides. I’m sitting on the adjoining swing to Archie, who has made it a competition about who can go highest.
‘I’m winning. I’m winning,’ he cries breathlessly.
‘You’re too good for me.’
A frown. ‘Are you trying?’
‘My hardest.’
Henry has gone quiet about the wedding news. I thought he’d share my excitement, but his first question was about the cost.
‘We don’t have to invite many people,’ I say defensively.
He makes a humming sound. Henry thinks I’m terrible with money, which isn’t true. I spend almost nothing on clothes compared to Roxanne. Yes, we have a big mortgage, but interest rates are low and we’re both working. If his child support payments weren’t so generous compared to most fathers – and if he didn’t spoil Archie rotten because he feels guilty … I know I shouldn’t think things like that, but Roxanne manipulates him and Henry refuses to stand up to her.