He holds up a textbook. ‘I came to give this to Theo.’
I wait for him to offer it to me, but he evidently wants to deliver it himself.
Releasing my iron grip on the door handle, I flatten myself against the wall, motioning him to come in. He’s wearing a heather grey T-shirt and light blue jeans thatdon’thave holes in the knees.
The hallway is narrow and as he passes, he brushes my arm. A wave of heat floods me, and he jerks, his eyes widening before he walks on.
Breathing heavily, I rub my arm. I haven’t seen him since Leo’s funeral. And even though it’s been fifteen years, it feels like yesterday that I was in that freezing church, shivering in the second row between Mum and Yan. I spent most of the service staring at the back of Mark’s head, at where his military-short hair met his neck in a sharp line. I was glad he blocked my view of the pale oak coffin. I didn’t want to think about what was inside. I couldn’t escape Anthi’s sobs, though. So loud theyalmost drowned out Father Michalis. I heard them in my dreams for years.
When we reach the kitchen Theo looks chuffed to see his friend. ‘Just in time for dinner.’
‘I’m not staying. I just wanted to drop this off.’ Mark hands over the book. ‘It’s all I had on right ventricular failure that might help with your dad’s care. We can go through it another time if you’re busy now.’
‘That’s really decent of you, mate. Thanks.’ He smiles at me. ‘You know Nella, so you should join us.’
‘Yeah,’ adds Tig. ‘Stay and eat. Look how much we made.’
Oh, come on.
First Yan offers up his flat, and now Tig wants to feed him? If I’d told my family about my last conversation with him, they’d be much less keen to roll out the red carpet.
‘And we can’t not feed the Best Man,’ adds Theo.
Best Man?
My heart starts thumping erratically. I’m raw from Friday night; if we’d had this unwanted reunion a week ago, I would have coped fine. Or at least better.
‘What are you drinking, Mark?’ demands Tig, as if once he’s got a drink in his hand he’ll be forced to stay.
‘I’m on call tonight.’
‘Well, then stay until you get called –ifyou get called,’ says Theo. He slaps Mark good-naturedly on the back. ‘Ah, the joy of general practice. Much more civilised hours. I don’t miss working in hospitals.’
I discreetly look at my watch. With any luck, there’s a poor sod somewhere in west London whose ticker is on its last legs.
‘We’ve got Perrier if you’re not drinking tonight. I’ll pour you a glass,’ says Tig, heading to the fridge.
I follow her to the kitchen area, separated from the dining room by a big breakfast bar.
‘Best Man?’ I hiss.
‘What’s the problem?’
‘I just … wasn’t in the mood to be sociable tonight.’
It’s a lie by omission but that’s all I’m willing to tell her.
Tig gives me a sympathetic look. ‘I’m sorry if it brings up painful memories of …’ she stops herself saying Leo’s name. ‘Theo’s an only child and Mark is like family to him. He’s really helping with the wedding.’
I fake a smile; I can handle a couple of hours with Mark Marino. Not that I have much choice.
Tig pops ice in a tall glass and pours the sparkling water. ‘Give this to him, would you? I’ve got to keep an eye on the rice.’
Mark’s already made himself at home at Tig’s dining table, sprawled on a chair with his back to the kitchen. Theo’s sitting opposite, leaning forward, and when he sees me, he suddenly stiffens, making it obvious they were talking about me. I wordlessly put the glass down without making eye contact.
Theo looks guilty. ‘Sit down, Nella.’
He pulls out a chair for me, eyes darting nervously between me and Mark.
