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55: Fliss
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Our Wedding Night 56: Fliss
An open marriage?I’m so thunderstruck I’ve sunk down onto my suitcase, right in the middle of the hot, dusty pavement, ignoring the stream of passengers who have to divert around me.“Ready?” says Lorcan, striding up with Richard and Noah, his eyes squinting against the blazing Greek sun. “I’ve arranged the fare. We need to get going.”I’m too flummoxed to reply. “Fliss?” He tries again.“They’ve got an open marriage,” I say. “Can you believe it?” Lorcan raises his eyebrows and whistles. “Ben will like that.” “An open marriage?” Richard goggles at me. “Lottie?” “Exactly!”“I can’t believe it.”“It’s true. She just told me herself.”Richard is silent for a few moments, breathing deeply. “That confirms it—I don’t really know her,” he says at last. “I’ve been an idiot. It’s time to put all this to an end.” He holds out his hand to Noah. “Bye, little chap. It’s been good traveling with you.”“Don’t go, Uncle Richard!” Noah flings his arms passionately around Richard’s legs, and for a mom
Our Wedding Night 57
“I don’t know,” I confess. “If they’d just turn round …”“That’s not Aunt Lottie!” says Noah scornfully. “That’s a different lady.” “Doesn’t really look like Ben,” confirms Lorcan, squinting at the guy. “Tootall.”At that moment, the girl turns her head and I realize she looks nothing like Lottie.“Oh God.” I sink down onto a nearby sun bed. “It’s not them. I can’t run around anymore. Can’t we have a drink?” I turn to Lorcan. “You must have missed your deadline by now. Get it done in the morning. Have a drink. Lorcan? What’s wrong?”I blink at him in surprise. His face is suddenly like stone. He’s staring at something beyond my shoulder, and I swivel to see what he’s looking at. It’s a normal luxury-hotel beach, with sun beds, and waves crashing onto the sand, and swimmers in the sea, and, beyond, a few sailing boats and, way beyond that, a big yacht moored in deep water. That’s what he’s staring at, I realize.“That’s Zhernakov’s yacht,” he says steadily. “What’s it doing here?”“Oh
Our Wedding Night 58: Lottie
I can see the tiny figures of swimmers bobbing around in the sea as I gaze back to shore. The late-afternoon sun is casting long shadows on the beach. Children are screaming and couples are embracing and families are playing together. And I suddenly wish with all my heart I was one of them. People on simple holidays, without complicated lives, without flaky, self-centered husbands, without disastrous decisions they have to unpick.I hated the yacht the minute we got on board. Yachts are awful. Everything is clad in white leather and I’m terrified of making a mark, and Yuri Zhernakov just ran a glance over me as though to say, No, you won’t make the cut as my fifth wife. I was instantly banished to the company of two Russian women with plumped-up lips and boobs. They’re so puffed up with silicone they make me think of balloon animals, and they have made no conversation except “Which limited-edition designer compact are you examining your reflection in?”Mine’s Body Shop, so that didn’t
Our Wedding Night 59: Lottie
When I give my Making Your Job Work for You! seminar to staff members at Blay Pharmaceuticals, one of my themes is: You can learn from everything. I take a sample workplace situation and we brainstorm and then list as bullet points What You Learned from This.After two hours on Yuri Zhernakov’s yacht, my bullet points would go as follows:• I am never having my lips done.• Actually, I wouldn’t mind a yacht.• Krug is ambrosia from heaven.• Yuri Zhernakov is so rich, it makes my eyes water.• Ben’s tongue was practically hanging out. And what about all those embarrassing sycophantic jokes?• Whatever Ben may think, Yuri is not interested in “joint projects.” The only thing he wanted to talk about was the house.• If you ask me, Yuri will get rid of the paper company altogether. Ben doesn’t seem to realize this.• I think Ben may be quite thick.• We should never, ever have come back via the beach.This was our big mistake. We should have got the boat to drop us a mile up th
Our Wedding Night 60: Fliss
I’m frozen. All I can do is stare mutely back. This was not how I was planning to let Lottie know that I’d arrived on Ikonos.“Fliss?” she says again, and now there’s a sharp edge to her voice which makes me flinch. What do I say? What can I say? Where do I even begin?“Fliss!” Nico speaks before I can marshal my thoughts, and snatches the microphone from Ben. “And here we have the sister of the happy couple!” He addresses the audience. “May I introduce Felicity Graveney, editor of Pincher Travel Review. She is here to give the hotel a special five-star review!” He beams delightedly. “As you can see, she has been sampling the delights of the Aegean Sea.”The audience gives a polite laugh. I have to hand it to Nico. No marketing opportunity left unexploited.“Now let us have the whole family onstage!” He’s bustling Lorcan, Noah, and me onto the platform. “A family shot for your special honeymoon album. Stand together!”“What the hell are you doing here?” Lottie’s eyes are dark with ang
Our Wedding Night 61: Fliss
Of all the moments I’ve experienced in life, this is the one I will remember forever. I’m holding my breath. The whole place is silent. Lottie’s staring at Richard, transfixed, her eyes huge. Her Happy Couple of the Week sash is glimmering in the lights, and her crown has slipped.“Well … well …” She doesn’t seem able to get the words out. “Well, I still love you!” She tears off her crown. “I love you!”Richard visibly jolts with shock. “But—” He gestures at Ben.“It was a mistake!” She’s almost sobbing now. “It was all a mistake! And I was thinking about you all the time, but you’d gone to San Francisco, but now here you are—” She suddenly turns to me, her face tearstained. “Fliss? Did you bring Richard here?”“Er … kind of,” I say cautiously.“Then I love you too.” She flings her arms around me. “Fliss, I love you.” “Oh, Lotts.” Tears are welling up in my eyes now. “I love you. I just want youto have the happiest, happiest life.”“I know.” She squeezes me tight, then turns and leap
Our Wedding Night 62: Fliss
Well, she was right about the sunsets. I’ve never seen anything as spectacular as this in my life. The sun is slowly glowing down the sky, and it’s not just sinking, it’s shooting rays of pink and orange with such dramatic force, I’m put in mind of one of Noah’s superheroes. “Sunset” sounds quite passive, quite nothing-y. This is more like sun-pow! Sun-take-that!I look down at Noah’s face, all rosy in the light, and I think again, He’ll be OK. For the first time in ages, I don’t feel angst or stress or anger. He’ll be OK. He’ll sort himself out. I’ll sort myself out. It’s all good.We’ve had an odd time. Kind of cathartic and uncomfortable, embarrassing and joyful, awkward and wonderful, all at the same time. Nico rustled us up a table at the beach-side restaurant, and all five of us sat around eating meze to make your taste buds sing with joy and slow-cooked lamb to make your insides whimper with ecstasy.The food here really is good. Must make sure I big it up in my piece.There wer
Our Wedding Night 1: Lottie
Twenty days earlier... LOTTIE I’ve bought him an engagement ring. Was that a mistake? I mean, it’s not a girly ring. It’s a plain band with a tiny diamond in it, which the guy in the shop talked me into. If Richard doesn’t like the diamond, he can always turn it round. Or not wear it at all. Keep it on his nightstand or in a box or whatever. Or I could take it back and never mention it. Actually, I’m losing confidence in this ring by the minute, but I just felt bad that he wouldn’t have anything. Men don’t get the greatest deal out of a proposal. They have to set up the occasion, they have to get down on one knee, they have to ask the question, and they have to buy a ring. And what do we have to do? Say “yes.” Or “no,” obviously. I wonder what proportion of marriage proposals end in a “yes” and what proportion end in a “no”? I open my mouth automatically to share this thought with Richard—then hastily close it again. Idiot. “Sorry?” Richard glances up. “Nothing!” I beam. “Jus
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