Chapter 10
TEN
With the chat with his cousin soon forgotten, midday burned through its hours with such eagerness, that Harry wondered if time had sped up just so he could get to the stag do quicker, even though he was absolutely dreading it.
He was a private man in many ways but understood why everyone else was excited about it; knew that it was important for Ben, and secretly regretted leaving it to his little brother instead of sorting it all out himself.
He was Ben’s best man, it was his job, but deep down he knew he’d hoped no one would think about it, because everything was happening so quickly.
Regardless of all that, he still didn’t want to go.
Social situations, even if he came across as someone who could at best endure them, were not his happy place.
Never really had been, either. He was happy in his own company, or that of a very small number of others, but no more.
All that conversation, that noise, that expectation to have things to say, to be clever and funny and—
A knock at the bedroom door and Harry was pulled from his thoughts and the fact that he’d spent the last half hour staring at his outfit for the evening ahead.
Grace entered, and Harry’s eyes near fell out of his face.
‘Holy hell, Grace...’
Grace curtsied.
‘You approve?’
Harry was speechless. Grace was the very picture of elegance, but in such an alluring way that he didn’t know whether to admire her from afar, fall to his knees, take her to bed, or all three, and in quick succession.
‘You’re beautiful.’
Grace waltzed over and stood in front of the dressing mirror she’d bought a few months ago from Tennants Auctioneers, down in Leyburn. She swished the dress from side to side.
‘Maybe I should dress like this more,’ she said. ‘What do you think?’
‘Probably not that practical for going out rabbiting, or for feeding pheasants.’
‘There is that.’
‘But yes, maybe you should. Won’t have any complaints from me.’
A horn sounded from outside the house.
‘That’ll be you, then,’ Harry said, and he stood up. ‘I’ll walk you to the door.’
Harry followed Grace downstairs, taking care not to step on the hem of her dress.
Opening the front door, he saw a large minibus.
The side door opened and Harry was greeted with lots of squeals and shouts and shrieks of delight, and so much material and lace and jewellery that he was put in mind of a haberdashery on wheels.
He had absolutely no idea at all why he knew what a haberdashery was.
Jen climbed out of the minibus and walked over to fetch Grace.
‘What do you think, Harry?’ she asked, gesturing at her own outfit, which matched in style and grandeur what Grace herself was wearing.
‘I think we’re all a little mad, if I’m honest,’ Harry said, then he turned to Grace. ‘Have a great time. No falling in love with any Mr Darcys, you hear?’
Grace looked momentarily shocked.
‘Mr Darcy?’
Harry gave her a wink. ‘So, maybe I had to look up Pride and Prejudice, just to see what it is,’ he said.
Grace rested a gentle kiss on his scars.
‘Enjoy tonight,’ she said. ‘And promise me, you’ll try and relax and have fun?’
‘I’ll be the very definition of fun,’ Harry smiled. ‘I promise.’
And with that, he watched Grace skip after Jen, and climb up into the van. Then they were gone, except that, as they went, Harry saw someone waving to him through the back window.
Gordy? He knew she was coming to the wedding, because of course she was. He’d not given any thought at all to the fact she’d have made the journey up for the hen do as well.
Laughing, he checked the time. He had a little while to himself before whatever transport had been arranged turned up to take him to the Tan Hill Inn.
He wondered about mulling over what had happened over in Reeth, then decided that it would only ruin things, so probably best to ignore it for now.
There was always the option of making another nice mug of tea, then having a nap.
That was certainly tempting. But he was too restless, and he knew that lying down would only put him on edge.
He needed to keep busy. There was the speech, wasn’t there?
A memory of Grace in her dress came to mind.
Well, he thought, if you can’t beat them, join them.
Harry had never spent so long getting ready for anything, certainly not a social event, anyway. While in the Paras, he’d been on plenty of operations that had involved numerous gear and weapons checks, on top of orders being picked apart and revised again and again. This wasn’t that. It was worse.
Having shaved his face with extra care, to ensure he didn’t nick any of his scars and end up spending the night in the pub with a face covered in spots of blood, he’d taken his second shower of the day.
He’d done his best to enjoy it, but concern about what lay ahead made that difficult.
When he stepped out of the cubical he found three pairs of eyes staring up at him, Smudge, Jess, and Cheese, all sitting down, all with their heads cocked to one side, all trying to work out what the big ugly man they lived with was doing showering in the middle of the afternoon.
Back in the bedroom, Harry sat on the edge of the bed in his dressing gown.
In front of him on a hanger, was the outfit that would transform him from a scarred, gruff DCI into a scarred, gruff King Arthur.
He could put it on now, and walk around the house feeling a bit awkward, or wait until just a few minutes before his pick-up was due, and do it then.
But did he really want to spend however long walking around in a dressing gown?
Harry stood up, threw the dressing gown behind him onto the bed, and started to get dressed. Again, three pairs of eyes stared at him, this time from the bedroom door.
‘I know,’ he said. ‘I look ridiculous.’
Cheese came over and sat on his feet.
‘That’s not helpful.’
The dog just wagged her tail.
Harry reached down, picked up the puppy, who had grown considerably he noticed, and held her up to his face.
‘Don’t suppose you fancy going instead of me, do you?’
Cheese licked Harry’s nose, then tried to bite it.
Harry placed Cheese back on the floor, then finished getting dressed.
Once done, he dunked the crown on his head, grabbed his sword and shield, and made his way downstairs.
As he stepped into the dining area of the open plan ground floor, he made out the silhouette of someone standing at the front door.
Matt’s crash and the burned-out SUV flashed before his eyes, and before he knew what he was doing, he’d drawn his sword, ready to attack.
‘You BASTA—’
Harry cut himself off, not just because he was suddenly very aware of how ridiculous he looked, but also because he now saw who it was standing facing him. It most certainly wasn’t his cousin, or even someone sent by his cousin.
‘Now then, Harry,’ said Arthur, Grace’s dad. ‘Right fancy get up, that, isn’t it, like? Grace told me about it. Must admit, I fair wet myself when I heard. Suits you though, doesn’t it?’
Arthur took off his coat, hung it behind the door, then dropped to his haunches, as the three dogs trotted over to meet him. His own dog, Molly, an aging springer spaniel, now going deaf, had already made her way over to the unlit fire, and was falling asleep on the rug.
Harry did his best to shove the sword back into its scabbard as casually as possible, and walked over to greet his new father-in-law.
‘I’m not a fan of surprises,’ he said.
‘Same,’ said Arthur, looking up at Harry from the floor as he made a fuss of the dogs; Cheese trying to climb up him to bite his ears; Smudge and Jess on their backs for tummy rubs. ‘Just have to do these things, sometimes, don’t you?’
‘Can’t imagine you in fancy dress,’ said Harry.
Arthur stood up, and puffed out his chest.
‘I’ll have you know that I’ve been a Pantomime Dame at least a half a dozen times.’
Harry heard the pride in the old man’s voice.
‘Really?’
‘Yes, really. Now, are you going to put the kettle on, or do I need to do that myself?’
Harry made them both a mug of tea, then they sat down in front of the wood-burning stove.
‘Feel free to get the fire on if it gets chilly,’ said Harry, then gestured at the full log basket to the side. ‘Plenty in there to be burned.’ He glanced down at Molly and smiled. ‘Reckon she’d appreciate it.’
Arthur placed his mug on the coffee table, then turned to look at Harry.
‘She loves you, you know?’ he said, then rested a calloused, strong hand on Harry’s knee. ‘And so do I, lad.’
Harry had his mug halfway to his mouth, didn’t know what to say.
‘I’m assuming you don’t mean Molly.’ He regretted his flippant remark immediately, and added, ‘Sorry,’ then, ‘Yes, I know she does, Arthur.’
Arthur gave a firm, very serious, nod.
‘Just thought you should know, that’s all. You’re a good man, Harry. A bit of a gruff bastard at times, like. Stubborn, too. But we’re all a bit like that, sometimes, aren’t we?’
Harry sipped his tea, wondered where Arthur was going with what he was saying.
‘I couldn’t be happier for the both of you,’ the old man continued. ‘Which is why I want you to have something ...’
Harry watched Arthur reach into a pocket and take out a small box.
‘These,’ he said, and opened the box. ‘They’ll need resizing, I’m sure, and I know you’ve probably sorted ones out yourself, but I just thought, well, money can get tight, can’t it? And ... and I thought you might appreciate ... er ...’
Inside the dark, silk-like interior of the box, sat two gold rings.
‘These were our wedding rings,’ Arthur said, and held the box out for Harry. ‘Me and Grace’s mum, I mean.’
Harry took the box from Arthur’s hands, spotted the sad smile on Arthur’s face. The rings had a weight to them beyond the physical. These were important. And what Arthur was doing, even more so.
‘Are you sure?’
‘Never been more sure of anything in my life,’ Arthur replied. ‘It’s what she would’ve wanted, and it’s what I want, too.’
‘Does Grace know?’
Arthur shook his head.
‘I’ve tried to say something about it to her, but I’ve never known what, and then the time would pass and, well, you know how it is.’
Harry closed the box.
‘This ... Well, it’s very kind, Arthur. Honestly, I don’t really know what to say.’
‘You’ve already said it, Harry,’ Arthur smiled. ‘You’ve made my lass happy, and me, just so’s you know. That’s enough, plenty enough, I think.’
Harry had a sudden urge to say something deep and profound, but he hadn’t the faintest idea what.
He was relieved when there came a knock at the door.
Standing up, he placed the rings on top of one of the kitchen cupboards, so that if Grace was home before him, she wouldn’t find them.
He then opened the door. Matt filled the space with his grin as much as with the outfit he was wearing.
‘Now then, King Arthur! Your knights await!’
‘Then why the hell are you dressed like that?’
Matt was wearing a long cloak and a large, pointy hat. He also had a staff.
‘Like what?’
‘Like Gandalf!’
Matt did his best to make himself look taller, which was rather pointless when stood next to Harry.
‘Gandalf? I’m Merlin, Harry!’
The laugh burst from Harry’s mouth unheeded.
‘Of course you are, Matt, of course you are!’
From another minibus parked behind Matt, a raucous cheer sounded out.
‘Off you go, lad,’ said Arthur, coming over to see Harry off, then he leaned in and whispered, ‘You’ll be fine, I promise!’
Harry felt a gentle shove in the small of his back, then he was outside, the door was closed behind him, and Matt had stepped to one side to allow him past.
‘Ready for this, Harry?’ Matt asked.
‘No,’ replied Harry.
‘Excellent!’ Matt laughed, and with that, they climbed into the minibus and were on their way to the Tan Hill Inn.