Chapter 7
NICK
As I walk outside, I read Dan’s text again.
Becks and I are in Reykjavik. Call me asap.
I go over to the railing and make the call.
He answers straight away. ‘Hey.’
‘What the hell’s going on?’
‘Hang on, I need to find somewhere quiet,’ he says in a hushed voice.
Of my three brothers, I’m closest to Dan.
He’s only eighteen months older, whereas our older brothers were already in primary school by the time Dan was born, so he and I hung out a lot growing up.
We’re similar in many ways – the ways that count, like believing there’s more to life than accumulating assets and wearing your wealth as a status symbol.
Unlike the rest of my family, Dan doesn’t judge me for pursuing a career outside medicine.
And while he’s a doctor like Hugh and Colin, they’re both making squillions as consultants and Dan’s content being a local GP.
He and Becks would rather spend money on travel and experiences than the latest model car or designer clothes, and own a modest semi-detached in Weybridge, which they share with their cat, Wally.
I love their house. It’s my home away from home and I’d much rather doss in their guest room than stay in my furnished flat in central London. It has zero appeal other than its location – utterly devoid of soul. And Wally’s my little mate – he always sleeps with me whenever I stay over.
I also prefer their place to Pippa’s house, which is also in Weybridge. It’s nice enough, but even though she likes to call it ‘ours’, it’s really all Pippa – and our tastes are a little… at odds. I imagine that once we’re married, we’ll find something that’s more ‘us’ – a compromise.
‘I’m back,’ says Dan, speaking in his normal voice.
‘Okay, so why are you and Becks in Iceland?’
‘Look, I’m not supposed to say anything, but…’ He sighs and my gut twists into a knot.
‘Just tell me.’
‘We’re here for your wedding.’
I burst out laughing. Ordinarily a joke this sick would piss me off, but right now, I’ll welcome anything that takes the edge off the day.
‘Nick, come on.’
I let my laughter die down, grinning even though he can’t see me.
‘Yeah, yeah, good one, big brother. Now what’s really going on? You and Becks crash our romantic holiday on purpose or—’
‘I’m being serious.’
This time I realise he means it.
‘What?’ I whisper, the knot in my gut tightening. ‘A wedding?’ Even saying the word feels strange – and wrong. ‘Wait, there’s no way Pip would’ve planned—’
‘She did. And not a wedding – your wedding. I’m the best man.’
The world shifts on its axis, giving me vertigo, and I blink several times in a row, trying to right it.
A wedding? My wedding?
This is coming out of nowhere. Pippa and I haven’t discussed dates or venues or a guest list. I figured we’d get to it at some point, but to spring it on me? Why would she think that was a good idea? I hate surprises. Agreeing to this trip was a huge deal – never mind a destination wedding!
But a more pressing question comes to the fore.
‘How the hell is she organising a wedding in Iceland?’ I ask. ‘She didn’t even know where she was going till she got to the airport this morning.’
‘Apparently, she’s keeping it simple.’
‘Simple? Except for the part that it’s in another country – and that my family have flown in especially. When are Mum and Dad due to arrive?’
‘Er, they’re not. It’s just us, Pippa’s parents, and Ashley, who’s the bridesmaid.’
That makes sense – like me and Dan, Pippa and her sister, Ashley, are best friends. Then it hits me that I’ve missed the most important detail.
‘Hang on – Mum and Dad aren’t coming?’
‘Nope.’
‘But they’re best friends with Pip’s parents. Why weren’t they invited?’
‘Well, you know how Mum feels about last-minute plans,’ he replies. ‘She’d have hated having to scramble to get here on time. Maybe it’s that.’
‘Oh, right. And how did you two manage it?’
‘Pippa called us from Heathrow, then we booked flights for this afternoon. Can’t imagine Mum doing that. Not even with two days’ notice.’
‘No, but even so, they should have been invited. Mum would hit the roof if I got married and she wasn’t even on the guest list. Dad wouldn’t mind so much, but Mum…’
‘I know, right?’ he says with a snort. ‘Mount Etna erupting would pale in comparison.’
He laughs at his weak joke, but I don’t. Nothing about this is funny.
‘Wait, did you say the wedding’s supposed to be in two days’ time?’
‘Well, it was meant to be tomorrow, but she’s holding off for a day. She’s trying to figure out a way to get you here.’
I laugh again, only this time at Pippa’s blind optimism.
‘Has she developed superpowers or something? Is she going to teleport me to another country with her mind? Because last time I checked, flights were grounded across southern Europe and depending on which way the wind blows – literally – northern Europe could be facing the same problem.’
‘Yep.’
‘So, to recap – you’re there, I’m here, Mum and Dad aren’t even bloody invited, and Pippa’s convinced she can defy the laws of nature and somehow fix this.’
‘That’s sounds about right.’
‘God, this just gets worse and worse,’ I say, each revelation a steamy turd being balanced on top of a giant pile of steamy turds.
‘Sorry, mate. And yeah, Pippa asked me not to say anything, but you’re my best mate and there was no way I was keeping this to myself.’
‘Thanks.’
‘Course.’
God, no wonder Pippa acted so strangely when I told her about Mount Etna – she planned our wedding as a surprise, and I’m two thousand miles away!
I run a hand down my face, a wave of exhaustion slamming into me. Was it really this morning when I woke up in Norway?
‘Hey, did you meet the other Nicholas – the one who was supposed to be here?’ I ask, curiosity triumphing over fatigue – for now, anyway.
‘Oh, yeah we met him. He’s a bit of a wanker, to be honest. As if he’s the only one who’s been inconvenienced.’
‘Hmm, that tracks with what I’ve heard,’ I say, wishing Nicholas would be more understanding – particularly how upsetting this must be for Delaney. She may have a cheery disposition, but I suspect she’s gutted.
‘Look, I’d better get back,’ says Dan. ‘We’re all going to dinner.’
‘All?’
‘Yep – me, Becks, Pippa, and her family.’
‘Oh fun,’ I say, letting the sarcasm drip from my tongue.
Pippa’s family are lovely people, but I can’t imagine anything more awkward than suffering through a cordial dinner when everything’s gone tits up.
‘Hey, before you go… what are you planning to do, you and Becks? Will you head back to London?’
‘No way – our leave was approved months ago, and we’ve always talked about visiting Iceland. We’re staying.’
That sounds like Dan and Becks – I’d probably do the same thing if the situation were reversed. Of course, that would never happen. For a start, they’re already married, but they’re also far too practical to do something so daft.
And Dan said months. Meaning Pippa’s had this scheme in her head from the moment we booked the trip. Another thing to delve into – but not tonight.
‘Sounds good,’ I say, stifling a yawn. ‘All right, I better go. Give my love to Becks.’
‘Course. We’ll speak soon, eh?’
‘Yep. And, Dan, thanks again. I mean it.’
‘I’ve got you, baby brother.’
I smile at that and after we end the call, I stare out into the night, my gaze wandering to the handful of boats bobbing in the marina, most of them in shadow.
What the bloody hell, Pip? Did you seriously think I’d be okay with this if I had shown up in Iceland?
I squeeze my eyes shut and yawn loudly. Hopefully, I’ve given Delaney enough time in the bathroom. If I don’t get to bed soon, I’ll fall asleep out here, standing up. I tiptoe back inside to find her fast asleep on the far side of the bed, a sleep mask on and snoring softly, the covers kicked off.
I quickly turn away because all she’s wearing is lacy knickers and a matching vest, which is bunched up around her waist. I suppose she did pack for a holiday with her boyfriend – she might not have had anything else.
Still… as frustrated as I am with Pippa, there’s no way I ever want her finding out that Delaney and I shared a bed for a night. Especially not with her wearing that.
* * *
I wake suddenly, blinking in the bright sunlight streaming through the gauzy curtains, then check my watch, which is charging beside the bed. It’s after eight, meaning I slept more than ten hours – ten! I must have needed it.
I look over, wondering if Delaney’s awake, but it’s just a wall of pillows.
Propping myself up on one elbow, I discover I’m in bed alone.
I lie back, sinking into the mattress. It’s unclear what today will bring, other than moving hotels.
But I wonder if I’ll hear from Pippa – until she admits to planning a wedding without me, I guess I have to maintain the charade.
I really can’t believe she did that.
‘Hey, you’re up.’
Delaney’s standing in the doorway between the bedroom and the lounge, already dressed and sipping from a takeaway coffee cup.
‘Where did that come from?’ I ask, pointing at the coffee.
‘There’s a café near the funicular. They do takeout coffees – if you ask nicely. I would’ve gotten you one, but I had no idea if you even drink coffee.’
‘Ah, yep, I do,’ I reply, self-conscious that I’m shirtless. As if she heard my thoughts, her eyes drop to my chest where they linger before lifting to meet mine. I bury myself further under the covers.
‘I can go get you one.’
I don’t answer immediately – too distracted by the flush in her cheeks – and she holds up her coffee, giving me a questioning look.
‘Oh, right. Erm, sure – a cappuccino’d be great. I’ll get dressed while you’re out.’
We stare at each other for a moment – god only knows what she’s thinking – then she spins around, calls out, ‘Be right back,’ and leaves, the door banging loudly behind her.
‘Get it together, will you?’ I tell myself, scrubbing a hand over my face. ‘And you too,’ I add, lifting the covers and glaring at my cock.