Penny Vincenzi - The Best Of Times

“It is, isn’t it? We still need a headliner, though. Do you know anyone remotely famous?”

He thought, then said, “I might. I’ll see what I can do.”

Three days later, she rang Abi.

“Abi, Abi, Abi, you’ll never believe this. We’ve got BroadBand. And they can do the eighth. So we can get the Web site up and running…”

“Ohmigod. Oh. My. God. BroadBand! How, why-”

“Oh, you know what they say,” said Georgia carelessly. “It’s not what you know; it’s who you know.”

Merlin came to the next committee meeting. Abi was initially deeply suspicious of him-in fact, she’d told Georgia he sounded like a complete wanker. Georgia defended him rather feebly.

“He really isn’t, Abi. He’s actually very sweet and kind. Honestly.”

“Doesn’t sound too sweet and kind to me, treating you how he did.”

“No, no, you don’t understand; he didn’t treat me any way, not like that; he really, really wanted to help, he told me, and he apologised if I felt he’d… well, you know…”

“Played around with you?”

“But he didn’t. He behaved like a gentleman, honestly, always; he never tried anything…”

“I never did like gentlemen,” said Abi.

“But you’re marrying one.”

Abi was silent for a moment; then she grinned.

“Yeah. S’pose I am. Still can’t believe it. God, Georgia, he’s bought me the most amazing rock; it’s being sized right now, but it’s just so… so beautiful. Mind you, I’ll make the most terrible farmer’s wife; I don’t understand any of it, and God knows how I’m going to deal with the in-laws. Specially her.”

“Abi, I’d back you against any mother-in-law. Against anything on the planet, really. I’m sure you’ll do fine.”

In the event, Abi quite liked Merlin; he made her laugh, and he certainly knew a lot about festivals.

“My parents used to take me to Glastonbury every year; I loved it. It’s a kid’s idea of heaven, all that mud and not having to have a bath. Have you thought about what you should do for the kids?”

“Like what?”

“Well, like face painting and weaving, stuff like that; it’ll all add to the atmosphere, and anyway, it’ll make more money.”

“No, we hadn’t thought of that. Good idea.”

“And then you should sell tents, the little ones, and those waterproof cape things, and wellies.”

“Yeah, and someone suggested blankets to me,” Abi said.

“Blankets definitely. And I don’t know what you’re thinking about food, but I went to Reading last year, and they had some massive paella just bubbling away, and the punters just came and got bowlsful, made a change from burgers, really popular. Oh, now, here’s another thought: you could do a CD of the festival. It needn’t cost much, honestly; I know a bloke who knocks them out-well, you know him, Georgia, Jazz…”

“Oh, really? Jazz’s great,” she said to Abi. “You’d love him. He’s my landlord.”

“CD’s a brilliant idea,” said Abi, scribbling furiously. “You’re a real find, Merlin. This is all great stuff.”

“What did you think of Merlin?” she asked William later.

“He was all right. Bit of a poof, I thought. Wasn’t too keen on the bracelets.”

“Yeah. He probably swings both ways.”

“What does that mean?” said William, looking genuinely puzzled.

Abi stared at him, her face blank; then she smiled and leaned forward to kiss him.

“Oh, William,” she said, “I love you so much. You’re so… so wonderful.”

William gave up.

Things escalated fairly fast after that. Merlin drove Georgia back to London, took her out for a meal and then to a club. When the cab stopped outside her house, he kissed her good night, rather chastely, and then said, “Do you really see me as a big brother, Georgia?”

“Course.”

“Right. Good. Well, good night.”

“Night, Merlin. And thank you again. Not just for the evening, but for coming today.”

“It’s fine. See you on Monday.”

“Yeah, Monday.”

This wasn’t easy. It so wasn’t easy.

They were rehearsing until really late on Monday; Georgia was depressed, felt she’d done badly.

“It’s so hard, doing comedy,” she said to Merlin. “So different. I feel I’m right back to square one.”

“You’re doing great. Come on; let’s grab something to eat.”

They went to a Pizza Express; she picked at her lasagna rather halfheartedly.

“Come on,” he said, “cheer up. You’re doing absolutely fine. Honestly.”

“You really think so?”

“I really think so. I’ll tell you who isn’t-Milly”

“Oh, really?” Milly Buchanan was playing the other girl.

“Yeah. She’s our problem; she’s what’s making you feel you’re crap.”

“Oh. Well… maybe. I do find her quite… quite over-the-top.”

“Exactly. She’s playing it like it’s Romeo and Juliet. Very, very difficult to deal with. But I think Bryn’s onto her. I saw him talking to her rather intently as we left.”

“Mmm. Maybe. Suddenly I feel hungrier.”

“Good. Big brother at work again.” He raised his glass to her. “To… to stardom. You’ll get there.”

Georgia looked at him. He was wearing a white T-shirt and blue jeans; his face was tanned still from a family skiing holiday. He looked… well, he looked amazing.

“Yeah,” she said with great difficulty. “Yeah, you’re a really great brother.”

Merlin put down his glass and looked at her in silence for a moment. His eyes moved over her face. She sat there, trying to appear cool.

“I have to tell you something,” he said. “You can tell me to get lost if you like.”

“Yes?”

“I don’t exactly see you the same way,” he said, “not really as a sister at all.”

“No?”

“No. Not in the least. Actually, I think you’re utterly gorgeous. Sorry.”

Georgia stared at him; then she stood up, went round the table, and put her arms round his neck.

“Oh, Merlin,” she said, kissing him repeatedly, first on his cheek, then on his forehead, then finally and rather recklessly on the mouth, “oh, Merlin, don’t get lost. Don’t say sorry. I…”

“Let’s get out of here,” he said.

They went to her room. She said she’d rather, although he did offer her his place: “I’m self-contained, and anyway, they won’t mind; it’s part of their religion…”

“No, no, I wouldn’t feel… happy.”

“I want you to feel happy,” he said. “Come on.”

She was nervous again, going back. He was probably incredibly experienced-which she wasn’t. He’d find her dull, disappointing, and she hadn’t made the bed properly that morning; he’d think she was a slut, and she was wearing some really grotty old pants; he must be used to the likes of Ticky in Agent Provocateur…

None of it mattered. He clearly didn’t find her dull; in fact, he was surprisingly… well, straightforward, which was a relief, and there certainly wasn’t time to notice the unmade bed; they were on it in seconds after shutting the door behind them, and as for her knickers, well, he just yanked them off completely unceremoniously; anything better would have been a complete waste.

In fact, it was all wonderful; it was as if they had been ready and waiting for each other, perfectly matched, perfectly tuned… “That was totally amazing,” he said afterwards, lying with his face buried in her hair. “We saw, we conquered, we came.”

She hoped he didn’t say that to all the girls.