The Last Word (19 page)

‘We met at Cambridge. I was studious, quiet, desperate to prove myself. She was…effortlessly good. She was that girl, the one everyone wanted. She was smart, beautiful, classy. And she was fucking cold as ice. I don’t know what it is about being a boy in your twenties, but for every lovely, beautiful and friendly girl I met or dated, all I wanted was Jenna looking down her nose at me.’

Tabby shuffled a little in irritation, and Harry looked at her knowingly. ‘Hey, you asked.’

‘So anyway,’ he continued, ‘she wanted me. We dated. I always felt one step behind, oh so grateful that she’d picked me. She took me to meet her family, and Tabs, honestly, they’re like something out of a
Midsommer Murders
episode, you know? With the tweed and the four by fours and the hunting. It was unlike anything I’d ever seen.’

‘Did her family like you?’

‘Not the first time. I was quiet and polite, and in awe of everything. And they were cold snobs who knew I wasn’t good enough for their princess.’ He grinned. ‘But the second time, I knew what I was doing. I walked in there like I owned the place, shook his hand, called them by their first names, air kissed the mother, talked about betting and stocks and cars, and there I was, beloved.’

‘You…you became this you?’

‘Haha, now you’re intrigued, right? Is it all an act? Sorry to disappoint love, but this is who I am. I guess I should thank them for that.’

‘So then what?’

‘Well, then Princess wanted to move in together, so we did. Except I was still an editorial assistant at this music mag, and she was already flying high with her uncle’s connections. And Princess wanted a nice flat in Kensington.’

‘She wouldn’t compromise?’ Tabby twitched her mouth and Harry raised his eyebrows at her.

‘Tabby, you’ve seen her, do you think she looks like the type of woman to live in a studio in Shepherd’s Bush?’

‘No, s’pose not.’

‘So, I got a loan. And then another, and then another.’

‘Oh crap.’

‘Yep.’ Harry shuffled. ‘I got an extra job bartending in the evenings, edited papers online in the early morning, and weekends I worked catering events.’

‘I guess that’s where the time to cheat came in.’

Harry’s voice softened. ‘She said she felt abandoned. I can understand that, I wasn’t there. I wanted to give her everything. But to know I was working like that for her to have that lifestyle and she was…. well, it sucked.’

‘So how did you afford a ring if you were in all that debt?’

‘I’d worked most of it off by that point, but my granddad passed away that month and left me an inheritance. Thinking back, that’s probably part of why I did it. That old bugger was the last bit of family I had left, really. And if Jenna went too…what did I have?’

Tabby didn’t say anything, just stroked his chest softly, fingertips tracing the fine hairs. She snuggled in closer, and he squeezed her shoulder. He took a deep breath.

‘That money was for a deposit for a flat. For my “Big London Life”, he used to call it.’

‘And you used it…’

‘On a big honking diamond, yep. Not all of it, but most of it. I had something to prove, remember.’

‘Oh Harry.’ Tabby’s face crumpled.

‘Now, Tabs, no pity,’ Harry teased. ‘You’d think you were starting to realise I’m not an absolutely awful human. And we can’t have that. What would we argue about?’

‘I’m sure I could find a few things.’ Tabby smiled and kissed his cheek. ‘So it was good for you, when she left, you got your life together?’

Harry paused, head tilted. ‘You…you could say that. It took a while. The good side was she gave me the ring back. I sold it, got most of it back – ’

‘And used it as a deposit on your place.’ Tabby patted his hand.

‘Nope. Bought the Porsche.’

‘Why would you do that?’ Tabby hit him.

‘Oi, you can’t get violent about a choice I made years ago!’

‘A bad choice!’

‘Yes, Tabitha, a very bad choice. Thank you. I was in a bad place. You didn’t do anything mental after you got screwed over?’

Tabby thought about it. The drinking. The smoking. Worse than usual but not terrible. The tattoo was probably a bad idea but she didn’t regret it. The drunken phone calls. The isolation. The quiet. The shaking hands and shock.

‘Hey.’ Harry stroked her cheek. ‘Tabs, where’d you go?’

‘We get hurt, we do silly things,’ her voice shook a little. ‘Continue. Is this where we get to your super whore ways?’

‘Well, aren’t you a little mind reader! Yes, I shagged about town, partied, drank, lost my job at the magazine and generally became a self-loathing arsehole.’

‘And this is different to now because?’

‘Ouch, Tabs! You’re the one who wanted this little bare all. Be nice!’ Harry poked her. ‘David Crane happened. He’d liked me, he saw how I was with Jenna, recognised it as fake, called me on it, and gave me a job. Jenna didn’t appreciate that and left. I worked my way up, had a steady job, got a mortgage and that, my dear, is that.’

Tabby stared up at the ceiling, thinking about her response.

‘Hello, Tabby? Baring my soul here. Any thoughts?’

She rolled onto her side, head on her hand. ‘Who were you before?’

Harry shrugged. ‘I was this, I was me. I just….it just took a lot longer to bring it out.’

‘And now you kind of just shove it in people’s faces.’ Tabby grinned.

‘Urgh, horrible woman. Can I go to sleep now or are you going to reward me with sexual favours for being so emotionally vulnerable?’

Tabby smiled at him, his cheeky grin in place, but his voice just a little less sure. He was vulnerable, she thought, he was completely open and gentle, and once that wall was down, it was hard to see the Harry from before. She stroked his cheek.

‘Well, you have been a terribly good boy…’ She grinned as she moved to kiss him.

Chapter Eighteen

The day of the wedding was upon them. The dreaded day that Tabby would put on a lavender dress and watch her mother marry Liam The Estate Agent. Or, Liam The Twenty-Eight-Year-Old. Or, Liam The Essex Boy. Each title had its own particular joys.

Her mother had decided that it had to be the grandest affair on the planet because, as she never ceased to remind Tabby, the first time had been less than perfect.

‘Every woman deserves to feel like a princess!’ she kept squawking, and Tabby refrained from pointing out that she’d been in the role of queen for quite some time now.

Either way, the sun was shining, Rhi and Chandra were going to be there, and Harry was already sitting in her kitchen, drinking coffee, looking gorgeous in a charcoal suit.

‘And you promise we’ll leave as soon as I say?’

‘I shall be your getaway driver, don’t you worry.’ He grinned and scanned her outfit. ‘I thought you had a lavender puffball to wear?’

‘It’s at the venue, and I am not changing into it until the absolute last minute. Bleh.’ She adjusted her summer dress, which was more festival than wedding, and grabbed the last of her bags. ‘OK, I think we’re good to go.’

Chandra walked in the front door, looking the very epitome of English country wedding chic. She had fitted tan trousers, cork wedges and a printed chiffon blouse, along with a sunhat. She looked chic and sophisticated and everything she automatically was. Tabby instantly knew she should have packed a dress to change into once her mother drunk enough not to notice.

‘You look gorgeous!’ Tabby exclaimed, and Chandra grinned and did a little curtsey.

‘Present!’ She forced a bottle of champagne into Tabby’s hand.

‘Why do I get presents?’

‘Well, I got your mum something too, obviously. But this is going to be a shitty day for you, and we’re here to make it as fun as possible. So drink that on the way down, and we’ll fix your make-up for you the other end.’ Chandra kissed her cheek. ‘It really is going to be fun. I’ve also got a Valium in my purse in case you need it.’

Harry tilted his head. ‘So this is what true friendship comes down to. Emotional support, booze and drugs.’

‘When your mother is marrying the boy who shagged most of the school you went to, yes it is,’ Chandra said wisely. ‘I’m sorry we can’t all drive down together, but it probably works out better this way.’

Tabby grinned. ‘So that if you hook up, we can take Rhi back with us while you drive off into the sunset with an Essex boy, you mean?’

Chandra raised an eyebrow. ‘Darling, do I look like the kind of girl who goes for Essex boys? But you never know, do you?’ She winked. ‘Plus, it’s not mine and Harry’s fault that we both have stylish cars that aren’t designed for group road trips.’

‘Yes, poor you and your capitalism.’ Rhi entered, looking thoroughly uncomfortable in a black sundress. ‘I hate formal events.’

‘You look great!’ Tabby said.

‘You look like you’re going to a funeral,’ Chandra said firmly, and dragged Rhi back up the stairs, ‘We’ll see you there, lovelies!’

Harry chucked a few bags into the back of his car, then stood patiently while Tabby rooted through all of those bags for various things she suddenly needed. Eventually, they were on their way to Wiltshire.

It was becoming familiar, Harry driving her places in his sporty little car, the sun shining, the windows open, the two of them staring from behind sunglasses. Tabby slipped off her polka dot flip-flops and rested her feet up on the dashboard. Harry made ‘hmming’ sound but instead, just patted her thigh.

‘Second present from Chandra. Well, Rhi. Mix CD.’ Harry pushed a CD into the player, and the angry-girl sounds of her teenage years burst forth, along with a good helping of cheery sunny Saturday afternoon music. And Billy Idol’s ‘White Wedding’, obviously.

‘Aw, are you involved in Project Keep Tabby Happy then?’ she teased, and stroked his cheek.

‘Full-time job, babe.’ Harry winked at her. ‘So tell me about this wedding. Not in Essex?’

‘Ha! Like Mum would stand for that. Although I’m informed there might be a few footballer types and TOWIE stars there. Mostly, though, it’ll be boring relatives.’ Tabby stopped suddenly, and then clapped her hands in glee. ‘Ha ha!’

‘What?’

‘You!’

‘Me what?’

‘Just…you!’

‘Me Tarzan. You Jane.’ Harry deepened his voice.

‘No!’ Tabby said, exasperated. ‘What I mean is, you’ll be there to save me! When all those awful relatives ask once again about why I’m an ageing spinster forced to die alone, suffocating on cat hair, you’ll be there! As proof that I have attractive qualities and stuff.’

‘And eloquence is clearly not one of those “qualities and stuff”.’

‘You don’t know what they’re like! Actually, I truly bet you twenty quid that one of them asks which escort agency I hired you from.’

‘Shut up!’

‘No, honestly.’ Tabby turned to face him. ‘I bet you twenty quid, shake on it.’

Harry begrudgingly lifted his hand from the wheel. ‘Fine, now be a good girl and drink your champagne. Chandra will kill me if I get you there and you’re not all mellow and cheerful.’

‘Oh, so it’s your job to make me cheerful, is it?’ Tabby lilted, drinking from the bottle and dribbling some down her chin and cleavage. Harry’s eyebrow quirked briefly.

‘It’s my job to get you there on time, keep you cheerful, convince you you’re beautiful no matter what horrible dress you have to wear, make small talk with your relatives. Then I’m going to get you plastered, take you home and have my wicked way with you.’ He paused. ‘That all right with you?’

‘Except the part where you have to wait all day to take me home. That seems rather unfair.’ Tabby tried to look as appealing as possible.

‘You want to go use the honeymoon suite before your mum and – ’

‘Ew! Yuck, yuck, gross! OK, mood officially killed. I’ll go back to drinking now.’

‘And I’ll go back to driving.’

‘You know, if you keep bringing up the subject of my mother, we may never have sex again,’ Tabby pointed out bitterly, crossing her arms.

‘The amount of talk we’re both going to face about marriage and babies today will probably put us off for life. But I think we can handle it.’

Tabby smiled a little to herself. ‘You really are unflappable, aren’t you?’

Harry raised an eyebrow. ‘I’m sorry, what? Do you remember what I was like when we met? Unflappable is not the word I’d use.’

‘So what you’re saying is I’ve helped you mellow, and see the joy in the little things in life,’ Tabby said thoughtfully, and took a large swig from the bottle of champagne. Yes, she was a calming influence, she thought, quite good at taking Harry away from his pretentious designer crap and reminding him that a night in with frozen pizza and Scrabble could be fun.

‘No, what I’m saying is you drove me crazy. Like, sometimes when you started arguing for no reason, and I couldn’t think of anything smart to say, and I’d just talk down to you, and then you’d start insulting me. Those times, I would imagine throwing a big pie in your face.’

‘You…what?’ Tabby squawked.

‘Oh, don’t take it personally, I made you mad too.’

‘Yes, but I never…’

‘Yes you did.’ Harry grinned.

‘But never a pie with whipped cream!’ Tabby’s foot kicked the dashboard in irritation, and didn’t stop until Harry rested a hand on her thigh, letting her dress ride up.

‘Who said anything about whipped cream?’

‘It’s…you know…like in those movies…’ Tabby tried to keep frowning but it was difficult with Harry tracing circles on her skin. ‘Oh fine, it’s passed.’

‘It is. We’ve moved on to a much better place. Where we irritate each other and then have sex.’

‘Yeah, keep being irritating and see how well that continues to work out.’ Tabby raised both her eyebrows and settled back to enjoy her drink.

‘You can pretend you’re in control of this all you like, Tabs, but we both know this is something different,’ Harry said simply, then turned up the music before she could argue.

***

Tabby had to admit, her mother knew how to throw a party. She didn’t really know how to let her twenty-six-year-old daughter wear her own clothes, but that was probably besides the point now. Her mother looked happy, Liam looked happy, the wedding service was short and Harry kept winking at her. Tabby was not so drunk that she was having trouble with her heels, and as much as she hated the lavender monstrosity, she had to admit, it was kind of fun to twirl around in it and watch it move. A little bit like a princess. But only a little. And if anyone said anything, she was going to blame the alcohol.