Chapter Twenty-Seven
Hugo Laing was urging the London taxi to make it through the traffic. His flight from Mogadishu had been delayed first by weather, then by disputes and finally by scheduling and now here he was skidding into London forty-eight hours late and at a very serious risk of missing his friend’s wedding. He knew Hal would forgive him, but he didn’t want to let his best friend down.
Hugo had spent the last three months in Somalia working for the BBC. He and his fellow cameramen were tracking down rare black boubous and had been totally cut off from the outside world. Now, because of his delay he hadn’t been able to make the stag do, catch up with his friends or even grab his morning suit. His battery was flat and he hadn’t even been able to text any of the gang. A quick shower and a change of clothes was the best he could manage. Finally, he made it to Chelsea and was appalled to see he was only just ahead of the bride. Bianca would never forgive him if he upstaged her. Giving Bianca a big wave and a thumbs up he ran past her with his luggage slung over his back and slid into one of the back pews and paused to catch his breath.
The organ started up and as he scrambled to free himself from his luggage he stood up with the rest of the congregation. He looked around for familiar faces; most of his friends would be at the front. Oddly the church was only half full, which surprised him, but maybe they had wanted to keep the numbers down? Craning his neck he tried to spot Hal and Jamie but maybe they were sitting or kneeling? Normally that pair towered over everyone else in the room. As he looked at all the bobbing hats and feathers he wondered why he didn’t recognise anyone.
Now Bianca walked past him on her father’s arm. God, she really had a cracking figure but what an extraordinary dress. Hugo grinned and could only imagine what dear Eleanor would have said as she saw her daughter-in-law to be walking up the aisle. Generous and as loving as the day was long, she would no doubt have made some supportive comment about modern girls being wonderfully daring, but Hugo was not certain if buckles and straps on a dress didn’t ever so slightly scream bondage. The dress was so super slinky it was very clear to every man in the room what was on offer. Knowing Bianca he was sure this was the height of fashion; what did he know? In the pew in front of him two women frantically whispered back and forth at each other, smothering sniggers.
‘I didn’t know Ann Summers did wedding dresses.’
‘Apparently it’s a McQueen.’
‘That is NOT an Alexander McQueen. Who does she think she’s fooling? McQueen wannabe. My god is that a zip?’
Hugo didn’t care much for Bianca himself but Hal did and that was all that mattered. He knew some of the girls in their group were even more opposed to her than he was but then girls could be very tricky. It was always best to not get involved. Bianca resolutely ignored him as she walked past but he could hardly blame her, he had nearly knocked her over in his rush to get in ahead of her.
Now the bridesmaids walked past and he had to bite his knuckle. They looked like Oompa-Loompas. Their dresses were appalling, even he could see that, and the fake tans seemed to have gone a little orange. Thank God Vix wasn’t a maid of honour; she’d never live it down. It was a shame, really, he’d have been able to tease her for years. Once more he regretted arriving late. He wanted to be sitting at the front with his old friends.
As the bride reached the front she knelt down and was joined by Hal. Hugo wished he could get a better view and considered shuffling forward a few pews but he was a bit worried about drawing attention to himself. Damn, why weren’t the bride and groom standing? Something looked wrong with Hal, was he ill? God, he wished he had his contacts in but flying always dried his eyes out. As the fuggy air and the long flight caught up with him he was beginning to nod off. Voices mumbled from the front, the priest droned on, the congregation sang and Hugo had to keep shaking himself to wake up. How on earth was he going to stay awake through the reception? He needed to catch up with the others. They would keep him on his toes and bring him up to speed on all the gossip. The animal hierarchies of the Somalian jungles had nothing on the social twists and turns of his friends’ loves and lives. As he was about to drift off again the organ crashed awake, filling the church with sound. The congregation stood up as the bride and groom made their way down the aisle.
Looking up, something seemed awry with Hal. He appeared to have shrunk and with every step Hugo saw that something was very wrong indeed. That was not Hal. It was some short-looking foreigner. Bloody hell, was he at the wrong wedding? He looked at Bianca again, who was beaming with pride and joy. No, that was unmistakably Bianca. What the hell? As the congregation passed him, he didn’t recognise a single face. Rummaging around his luggage he found a travel battery for his dead phone and plugged it in. After a few minutes the phone beeped and he dialled Victoria.
‘Vix, darling, it’s Hugo. I’m at Hal’s wedding. Where the hell is he? What’s going on?’
There was a pause and then the hallowed halls of St Barnabus winced to the echoes of Hugo’s profanities. Apologising to anyone who could hear him, he got up and headed out of the church, trying to make sense of Vix’s call. Hal may or may not have got some girl pregnant, no one was certain on the point. He had definitely called the wedding off. And now it seemed that Bianca had definitely gone ahead with it. With someone else. Vix knew nothing about that part and had been horrified. The whole thing was a mess, and Hugo was heading to Cornwall. He didn’t know if he could actually do anything but this was when friends stood together.
***
Hal took in a huge breath. It had been five weeks since Paddy had run out of his life and his only contact from her had been a letter to his home stating her desire to be left alone for a while and a copy of the sonograph of their child. Every day since then he had looked at that picture, and kept it in his wallet along with a picture of Paddy he had found in a copy of Vogue. He found he had suddenly taken great delight in leafing through Odette’s old magazines looking for pictures of Paddy.
Everything seemed better after a long walk. The sun was beginning to go down and he was very glad that the day was nearly done. Today was supposed to be his wedding day, but instead, if he was honest with himself, he was hiding. He had no wish to make small talk today, or to try and avoid sympathetic glances or condemnatory ones. No, he was to blame for his shameful behaviour; he had let two women down appallingly and yet if he had proceeded, he would have done an even greater harm. This was of little comfort when he thought how Bianca must be suffering. He knew she was quite a determined character and he was certain she would recover, but even so.
As he walked across the lawn he spotted an unfamiliar car in the driveway. His father was at home, he could take care of whoever it was; instead he turned around and headed down to the estate offices. His father was still dragging his feet about the use of Mellowstone, and Hal was beginning to think he might have to find another property. It seemed a waste as Mellowstone stood empty. As he walked away, he heard the front door open and a familiar voice called out.
‘Spotty!’
Hal turned, only two people in the world called him Spotty.
‘Hugo! Is it possible?’ Walking towards Hugo, he gave him a massive bear hug. ‘Have you actually got uglier and fatter?!’ This is what he needed, an uncomplicated friendship. ‘What the hell are you doing in England? I thought you were annoying warthogs in Africa. Did they all turn you down?’
Hal and Hugo had first met in boarding school. Both had excelled at cross-country and were constant rivals for first place. They had only been united when Jamie had arrived in the second year. The boy was so fast, that all the pair saw of him were his heels, as he overtook them. Never one to hold grudges, the three had rapidly become best friends and did all they could to wind each other up and support each other in equal measure. They were the scourge of the lower fourth, and whilst Jamie was regularly considered the sobering influence by their tutors, Hugo and Hal knew he was just as likely to pull pranks as the other two. If he could get away with it.
As schoolboys, Hugo and Hal knew Jamie’s home life was severe. Their way of helping him through it was to create mayhem. And create mayhem they did. Who could forget the time at prize day when the podium was full of visiting dignitaries? The school choir stood up to sing ‘There is a Green Hill Far Away,’ a poignant hymn based on the painful and noble sacrifice of Christ, and as they got to the end of the line, ‘He died to save us all’, someone in the audience called out, ‘For he’s a jolly good fellow’, which was taken up by the rest of the lower fourth.
The staff were furiously trying to work out the ringleaders, but the Headmaster knew instantly. Earlier he had had to inform Jamie that he was being asked to stay as a boarder over summer, rather than go home. His father was off on holiday with his latest girlfriend. If he could have given those boys a medal then and there, he would have. Instead he scowled severely at the upper sixth and reminded them that this wasn’t the time for high jinks.
Now over a decade later, two of the unholy trio wandered down to the estate office. Hal was delighted to see his old school friend; life had been so complicated but here with Hugo, life seemed simple and uncluttered again.
‘Come on, let’s go inside. So what the hell are you doing in the UK? How’s it all going?’
Hugo looked at his friend. He was looking tired and worn out. He knew he had struggled after his discharge and had hoped his marriage might get him back on his feet, but after the disaster he witnessed this morning, things had clearly gone very wrong.
‘Honestly? I was here for a wedding.’
Hal stared at him and then groaned in horror. God he was a fool; in the joy and excitement he had completely forgotten that rather salient detail. ‘Christ yes. Oh God, Hugo, I did send word but obviously it missed you in transit. Well I suppose you know the worst of it. I’ve been an idiot and ruined everything. I know I did the right thing but God I feel so guilty about Bianca.’
‘Why?’ Hugo was wrong-footed; why was Hal feeling guilty? Hurt, jilted, heartbroken, yes. But guilty, that didn’t make sense.
‘Well for calling off the engagement. And so close to the wedding.’
‘Yes… But…’ Hugo paused. He’d assumed Hal must have found out Bianca was cheating. It made more sense than some random pregnancy. Hal didn’t fool around. What on earth was going on?
‘Look, Hal,’ Hugo plucked at invisible threads on his jacket, ‘the thing is I’ve just come from the church. My plane was late and I didn’t have time to talk to anyone. So I headed straight there.’
Hal turned and looked at his friend, wincing. ‘Oh hell, I can imagine you gate-crashing a total stranger’s wedding, I’m so sorry.’
‘Well that’s the thing. It wasn’t a complete stranger’s wedding.’
Hal looked up with amused interest as his friend trailed off. ‘You knew them? Bloody hell, what are the chances?’
So Hal didn’t know Bianca had gone ahead with the wedding. This was going to be ugly. ‘The thing is, Hal, the bride was Bianca.’
Hal paused and looked at Hugo. ‘What? Did you say the bride was,’ he paused trying to manage his disbelief, ‘Bianca?’
Hugo nodded.
‘Today? On our wedding day. In the church we booked?’
Hugo nodded each time. This was mortifying. ‘Yes. She was marrying some Italian-looking fellow.’
‘Short? Looked like an actor?’
‘That’s the chap.’
‘Bloody hell, she even brought him here for the fundraiser. Dear God. Married.’ And then he startled Hugo by laughing. ‘Right, get in the car. Pub time!’
Hal drove and booked a taxi for the return journey. Waving at the landlord he explained that he’d be leaving his car in the car park overnight. Sitting in the Queen’s Arms, Hal raised a glass. ‘Let’s drown our sorrows and thank our lucky stars for narrow escapes.’
Enjoying his first decent drink in months, Hugo took a long draught and then sighed in satisfaction. ‘Right, what the hell has been going on?’
Over the next few hours, some pies and some more pints, Hal began to bring his friend up to date. Vix had already told Hugo over the phone about the mysterious Paddy, but when Hugo mentioned her, Hal was curt and said he didn’t want to discuss her. Hugo decided to leave it for now; instead they discussed Hal’s plans for the new charity, which Hugo thought sounded invaluable.
As the evening went on Hugo wondered about this mysterious Paddy. He didn’t know much but he had a feeling that she was extremely important and not just because she was pregnant. Hal was very defensive about her and shielding her from even being discussed. He was being incredibly protective and Hugo was certain there was more to come. This girl seemed to be the key to Hal’s future. He wondered if Hal was even aware of it.
The following morning Hugo had to head back up to London to work on some edits and was then heading straight out again. He didn’t like the idea of Hal being by himself. Of course they were all grown-ups now, but he, Hal and Jamie had always had each other’s back when the chips were down.
According to Hal, when he’d cancelled the wedding Jamie had decided to cancel his leave. He was nearly at the end of a term of service and wanted to spend as much time in the field as he could. He would be back in the UK in a few months’ time and Hugo hoped the three of them would be able to catch up then. Hugo also suggested they all head to Courchevel for a spot of skiing and Hal agreed eagerly; it would be fun to have a few things to look forward to.
For now, though, he gave his school friend a quick hug and set off, hoping that by the time they did all meet again, Hal and his girl would be together, and his friend would be smiling again.