Kathryn Ross - The Night Of The Wedding

Nick shook his head. ‘I’m fine, Katy,’ he said gently. ‘And I’m really happy for you.’

‘Really?’

He nodded and reached to take her hand across the table. ‘He’s a lucky guy.’

Kate looked down at his hand against hers. The touch of his skin made her heart thump peculiarly. She felt odd, as if she had been running somewhere and had suddenly lost her sense of direction.

Nick took his hand away and looked at his watch. ‘Well, I guess we’d better get going. You’ve got a big night ahead of you, and I’ve got work to do.’

‘You work too hard,’ she murmured. ‘You need to cut down on the time you spend in front of those computers, find a nice girl and settle down.’

‘I don’t think that’s very likely. I’m just bachelor material.’ Nick grinned and shook his head. ‘And you sound like my mother—’

‘A very wise woman,’ Kate inserted promptly. She felt a bit better again, as if whatever had been wrong had passed like an eclipse of the sun and things were back to normal.

Nick caught the waitress’s eye to indicate he wanted to pay her. ‘I’ll get this,’ he said as Kate reached to open her bag.

‘Thanks. I’ll get it next time.’ They both stood up and walked together around the tables to the edge of the pavement.

‘Have a good evening.’ He bent to kiss her on the cheek. Although she was tall, almost five seven, Nick always made her feel petite; she wondered how tall he actually was—six feet four, she’d say at a guess.

‘I’ll ring you tomorrow and tell you all.’

He grinned at her. ‘Maybe you’d better spare my blushes.’

She smiled.

‘See you later, Kate.’

‘Yes, see you later.’ She turned away as he walked towards his open-topped Mercedes sports car. She unlocked her bicycle and put her bag over her shoulder. Before turning to go home, she noticed the woman who had been sitting at the next table to them was walking towards Nick. She smiled at him and said something and he stopped.

Would Nick ever get married? Kate wondered as she rode away. She supposed one day, despite all his protestations, a woman would sweep him off his feet, and he would have eyes for nobody but her. The thought settled around her like a dull cloud. He’d still have time for his friends, of course, she told herself swiftly. And anyway, it would probably be years before he decided to tie the knot; she could be old and grey with four children before Nick decided to walk down the aisle. Men could afford to take their time; they didn’t have a biological clock ticking inside them.

She looked at her watch as she rode slowly down by the side of the canal. She was nearly an hour early. She’d told Stephen that she’d be home by seven-thirty. Usually she had a couple of coffees with Nick, and as she hadn’t seen him for so long she had thought today that they would spend at least an hour chatting and catching up on news from London. But maybe it was just as well that she was going home early—as Nick had said, she had a big evening ahead. This way she’d have plenty of time to do her hair and get changed before Stephen got in from work.

What should she wear? She didn’t want to appear too dressed-up—she’d look a fool if he hadn’t really booked a restaurant and suggested getting a take-away. And maybe he wouldn’t propose to her at all.

There was almost a feeling of relief inside her at that thought. Perhaps she needed a bit more time to get used to the idea. Moving in together had been a big enough step for her…marriage seemed an enormous leap into the abyss.

Certainly Nick hadn’t seemed overly pleased for her. But then, for some reason Nick had never really warmed to Stephen. Not that he had ever said anything detrimental, and the two men were always perfectly civil to each other, but Kate had always known that Nick had reservations about him.

You couldn’t be friends for as many years as they had, through school and college, and not learn to read the signs. She could tell by the sardonic gleam that lit the darkness of Nick’s eyes sometimes, and the smile that wasn’t quite so easy or relaxed when Stephen was around. Her partner was not someone Nick would have chosen for her, but it was only because he worried about her, and Stephen was so totally opposite to him in every way.

Nick took his career and his business running a computer firm very seriously. For Stephen, work was just a means to an end…he had changed jobs three times in the last year. He was wild about heavy rock music and in his spare time played in a band. Life was a bit of a rollercoaster ride with Stephen, but Kate had to admit it was exciting.

She slowed down even more as their apartment came into sight. It was on the ground floor of a very impressive patrician eighteenth-century mansion that overlooked the canal. The rent was astronomical and perhaps a bit more than they could really afford, but Kate had fallen in love with the place on sight and had decided she’d rather cut down on a few luxuries and live there than anywhere else.

She noticed the light in the front salon was on. Stephen was home early as well. She locked her bike against the front railings and ran up the steps to the door and let herself in.

The door closed with a bang behind her; her footsteps echoed on the polished wooden floor. ‘Stephen,’ she called out as she walked into the salon.

Even though it wasn’t dark outside all the side lamps were on and the main chandelier blazed over the antique furniture. She flicked a couple of the lamps off as she passed towards the kitchen. There was a bottle of champagne cooling in a bucket on the table and two champagne glasses sat out waiting. But there was no sign of Stephen.

‘Stephen honey, where are you?’ Kate walked back through to the hallway. Then heard music coming from the bedroom. It wasn’t the usual heavy rock that Stephen liked to listen to; this was softer, more romantic.

She paused with her hand on the bedroom door. There was a strange noise coming from the room, like someone gasping for air.

Kate pushed open the door.

Stephen sat up in bed and stared at her in horror.

‘Stephen…?’ In a kind of blank disbelief she stared back at him and then at the woman who lay beside him. Shock unlike anything she had ever experienced before lashed through her.

‘Oh, hell!’ Stephen raked a hand through his blond hair, an apologetic, nervous look on his handsome features.

‘Sorry, Kate.’

KATE sat alone in the apartment in total shock for hours watching the light fade.

The earlier scene played and replayed in her head with mind-blowing clarity. The woman—‘Natasha,’ Stephen had called her—had got up, dived into a T-shirt and a pair of jeans and disappeared into the bathroom.

‘She’s a colleague from work,’ Stephen murmured as he reached for his clothes.

His calmness had brought fury rushing through her veins. A thousand questions fought for position, but all she’d said was, ‘You’d better get out.’ her voice trembling with rage.

‘Out?’ He had looked stunned. Like a little boy who had been told that Christmas had been cancelled. ‘Out where?’

‘Out of the apartment…out of my life.’

‘Oh, come on, Kate…we need to talk things over—’

‘I think the time for talking is over.’

She had watched from the front windows as they’d left. Stephen had put a small case and his guitar in the back of a red sports car. The woman’s wheat-blonde hair had swung jauntily as she’d got behind the wheel. Then they’d roared off.

She was glad she hadn’t cried—at least she had kept her dignity. She was glad she had restrained her temper as well. Neither of those emotions would have served her well, and at least that woman hadn’t got the satisfaction of seeing her break.