Chapter 1 #3
He closed his eyes again, trying to regain oblivion. Consciousness wasn’t all it was cracked up to be. But something in the back of his mind wouldn’t quite let go, something he felt was important… something he needed to remember.
‘Hey, Tom!’ Will clapped his hands close to Tom’s ear. ‘Come on, wake up – it’s D Day.’
D Day? Tom thought fuzzily. He concentrated hard. The last thing he could remember was rolling up to Will’s sprawling Dalkey mansion for his… STAG NIGHT!
‘Jesus!’ He shot up, eyes open wide now. His head spun and he thought he was going to throw up.
‘I think he’s awake.’ Will’s deep voice was tinged with amusement.
‘Wh— what day is it? What time is it? What happened?’
‘Today is Saturday, the first of July.’ Will spoke slowly and carefully, as though he were talking to a child. ‘Your wedding day, sunshine. The time is nine o’clock – T minus five hours. As for what happened, well, where would you like me to start?’
Tom looked around the room for clues, but there were none. He was lying on the couch in Will’s living room, but there were no signs of a party. It seemed everything had been cleared up but him.
‘I remember coming to the stag party…’
‘Yes?’
‘Well…’ Tom thought hard. ‘Well, that’s it.’
‘Oh dear. We have got a lot of catching up to do.’ Will turned to Lorcan. ‘Better get started,’ he said.
They bent over him, took his arms and hauled him to his feet. In return, he threw up over their shoes.
* * *
‘Jesus, my head.’ Tom groaned, kneeling back in front of the loo. ‘My head feels weird.’
‘Hardly surprising,’ Will drawled.
‘No, I don’t mean that. I mean it feels sort of… cold.’
Lorcan and Will exchanged a meaningful glance, which Tom intercepted. What did it mean? He moved his hands gingerly over his scalp.
‘Jesus!’ he shrieked. ‘What’s happened to my hair? It’s gone!’
‘Try not to panic, Tom.’ Lorcan patted his shoulder.
Tom stood up, pushed Lorcan out of the way and lurched over to the bathroom mirror. ‘I’m bald,’ he whispered in disbelief. ‘I’m fucking bald.’ He turned to his two friends, who were looking very sheepish. ‘I’m fucking bald on my wedding day!’ he wailed, with mounting panic in his voice.
‘You’re not bald.’ Will came over to join him at the mirror. ‘You’ve got a good quarter-centimetre of hair there, and I’m told the military look is really big this season.’
‘Rachel will kill me! The military look isn’t the theme of our wedding.’
‘Look on the bright side.’ Lorcan grinned. ‘It’ll make you more aerodynamic.’
‘I’m getting married, not entering the fucking Olympics!’
‘You’re getting hysterical, Tom. Hang on.’ Lorcan raced out of the room and came back, moments later, clutching a paper bag. ‘Here, try this,’ he said, thrusting it at him.
Tom looked at him uncertainly but took the bag. He placed it on his head, pulled it down over his ears and surveyed himself in the mirror.
‘Well, I suppose it’s an improvement…’ he said, turning his head to look at it from different angles.
‘You’re not supposed to wear it, you twat!’ Lorcan snatched it off. ‘You’re supposed to breathe into it.’
‘What bloody good will that do?’
‘It might calm you down.’
‘I’d still be bald!’ Tom shrieked.
‘Well, I think it really suits you. And it feels gorgeous.’ Will rubbed the crown of Tom’s head. ‘Rachel will love it.’
Tom touched it again. It did feel lovely – so soft. Despite himself, a little smile tugged at the corners of his mouth, and he saw Will and Lorcan brightening. ‘I’m still a dead man,’ he warned them. ‘How did it happen anyway?’
‘Phoenix did it.’
‘And you let him?’
‘You asked him to, actually – begged him, in fact.’
‘But you must have known I was out of my head. You should have stopped him.’
‘We would have, but by the time we found out what was going on he was already halfway through. It would have looked worse if we hadn’t let him finish it.’
‘What on earth possessed me?’
‘Apparently you wanted him to do your hair like his.’
‘But Phoenix isn’t a skinhead.’
Lorcan shook his head. ‘He is now – he’s a Hare Krishna or a Buddhist or something.’
‘Since when?’
‘Tuesday, I think.’ Will said. ‘Anyway, he had his head shaved, and apparently you kept saying how great it looked and wouldn’t leave him alone until he shaved yours. You really don’t remember any of this?’
Tom thought hard. ‘No, nothing.’
‘Well, that doesn’t matter now anyway,’ Will said. ‘We’ve got to concentrate on getting you in shape for the big day.’
‘That’s another thing I don’t understand,’ Tom said. ‘How can it be my wedding day today? The stag party was on Wednesday. If today’s my wedding day, that was three days ago.’
‘It was a good party.’ Lorcan said.
‘Wish I could remember it,’ Tom said.
‘You’ll remember today,’ Will said breezily. ‘That’s the important thing.’
Tom looked at Will as though he were mad. ‘You don’t think I’m going to go through with it, do you?’
‘What are you talking about? Of course you’re going through with it. It’s just a haircut, not the end of the world.’
‘That’s what you think! You don’t have to face Rachel.’
‘You have to face Rachel either way,’ Lorcan pointed out.
‘Not if I run away,’ Tom said, a mad gleam in his eyes. ‘I could go to South America. I’ve always wanted to see Machu Picchu.’
‘Don’t be daft, Tom,’ Will said firmly. ‘You’re not going to Machu Picchu, you’re going to St Jude’s, and you’re going to marry Rachel.’
‘Come on, Lorcan,’ Tom pleaded. ‘You know how scary your sister can be. I can’t face her like this.’
‘Only one thing for it,’ Will said, appearing behind Tom in the mirror. He grabbed an electric razor from the shelf, plugged it in and turned it on. Then he began to run it through his hair, huge chunks falling to the floor.
‘What the hell are you doing?’ Lorcan gasped.
‘It’s called solidarity, mate. And you’re next.’
* * *
‘Could you put the phone down, darling?’ Antony, Freddie’s very camp makeup artist friend, said to Rachel. ‘I can’t do your face with that thing clapped to your ear.’
‘Wait a minute.’ Rachel waved him away. ‘I just have to make one call.’ She hit redial. Tom’s mobile rang and rang, then went to voicemail again.
‘Shit!’ She hung up and called Lorcan’s mobile. It was picked up on the second ring.
‘Lorcan, where are you?’ she demanded. ‘Is Tom with you?’ she continued, before he had time to answer.
‘Yes, of course he is. We— er— we stayed with him last night. At least he stayed with us at Will’s.’
‘At Will’s?’ Rachel squawked. ‘Why did you stay there?’
‘Well, he is the 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 do everything? 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?’
‘Carmen.’
‘Short for Carmencita, I suppose,’ he said, feeling very clever.
‘No – Maria del Carmen.’
God, her accent was delicious. She had a deep, gruff voice, which, mixed with her guttural Spanish accent, sent shivers down his spine.
‘I’m Lorcan.’
She repeated his name, making it sound new and exotic.
‘I’m going to a wedding later today. Would you like to come?’