‘Well, heisthe best man – and I’m the second-best man or whatever you call it.’
‘Groomsman.’ Rachel gritted her teeth.
‘Yes, well, it’s sort of traditional, isn’t it?’
‘No, it’s traditional to stay at the groom’s place, where all his clothes and stuff are.’
‘Oh.’
‘Look, just put Tom on, will you?’
‘Well, do you have to speak to him now? You’re going to see him soon enough, aren’t you?’
Her brother sounded like Basil Fawlty trying to hoodwink Sybil, she thought. ‘He is there with you, isn’t he?’
‘Well, yes,’ Lorcan prevaricated.
‘Let me speak to him, then.’
‘It’s just that he’s sort of… busy.’
‘Where are you now? At Will’s?’
‘No… no, we’re somewhere else.’
‘Lorcan,’ Rachel growled, ‘put Tom on the phone.’
‘All right, all right.’
Rachel heard him yelling Tom’s name very loudly. He was obviously holding the phone away from him now and she could hear other sounds – a lot of voices and what sounded like water splashing. ‘He’s just coming,’ Lorcan told her.
‘Where are you, Lorcan?’
‘We’re actually, um,’ he laughed nervously, ‘you’re not going to believe this but… we’re at the Forty Foot.’
‘What?’ Rachel exploded. ‘What the hell is Tom doing at the Forty Foot on the morning of our wedding?’
Lorcan looked across at Tom, who at this very moment appeared to be chatting up a very nubile young Spanish woman. The Forty Foot, formerly a men-only nude bathing pool in Sandycove, now required that swimming costumes be worn and was open to anyone mad enough to plunge into the Irish Sea. Or in Tom’s case, hungover enough to let themselves be pushed in. However, Lorcan mused, he seemed to be enjoying it now.
‘It was Will’s idea, actually.’ Lorcan said. ‘He thought it would sob— er, freshen him up for the big day.’
‘Is Tom hungover?’ Rachel asked suspiciously. ‘I specifically asked Will to arrange the stag party early in the week and to make sure Tom wasn’t out on the piss the night before the wedding.’
‘Well, the party was on Wednesday. It just sort of went on longer than planned.’
‘How much longer?’
‘Um… two days.’ Lorcan winced, waiting for the onslaught. But he was saved from having to explain any further by the emergence of a very flaccid, dripping Tom from the water.
Now Tom was on the line. ‘Hello, darling.’
She could hear his teeth chattering. ‘Tom! What the hell are you doing at the Forty Foot? You should be starting to get ready by now. Honestly, do I have to doeverything? Will and Lorcan should be organising you, not leading you astray and leaving me to pick up the pieces. I hope you managed to get your hair cut. And don’t forget…’
Tom half listened as Rachel issued orders and watched wistfully as Lorcan plunged into the water and swam straight up to that Spanish girl with the honey-coloured skin. Even from this distance he could feel the heat of their flirting. Then they disappeared behind a rock together. If Tom hadn’t felt sober before, he did now, as the enormity of what he was about to do hit him.
* * *
Behind the rock, Lorcan gazed into a pair of dark eyes. ‘By the way,’ he asked, ‘what’s your name?’
