He smiles wryly. ‘Me too.’
‘What, Super Dan miss a walk? You must’ve polished off the bottle. I should’ve warned you about Seb.’
‘Warned me about Seb? How?’ he replies, conscious his voice has emerged in a ridiculous squeak.
‘Oh, he can drink anyone under the table. Despite being beautiful, honed to physical perfection, kind and sweet, et cetera et cetera.’
‘You sound as though you don’t like him.’
Unexpectedly stopping, Jen slips down her sunglasses and looks at him pointedly. Then she sighs. ‘I do like him, but he’s always been Will’s little brother. Trips to Crocky Trail, Chester Zoo, Blackpool and stuff. Then suddenly he’s a grown man I don’t know all that well. Boy to man in a blink. It’s weird really.’
Picturing the cropped hair of the swimmer, Dan wonders how to respond, but Jen speaks again.
‘I wonder what happened with Claudia. Both bloody gorgeous, they seemed a good match. I only met her the once, but it was pretty embarrassing, if I’m honest.’ She looks wistful. ‘You know, loaded eyes, intertwined fingers, shallow attention. In love, I suppose.’ Then she laughs, her tone back to sardonic. ‘Or maybe it was lust, transient but delicious. Like the croissant I pinched on the way.’
Pulling a flake of pastry from the ends of her hair, Dan laughs. ‘Evidence,’ he says, glad of something to distract his hot jumble of thoughts. ‘Back to the lab for testing …’
Jen doesn’t seem to hear. ‘I keep thinking about Will and Penny. It isn’t something that happens every day, is it? What would you do? What would you do if it was Geri?’
He smiles thinly. ‘God knows. Ask my mum?’
‘As much as I love her, Will’s mum would be no use. She’s … delicate. And pretty old these days, like Nick’s mum and dad. Funny, that, my parents started young. Like me, I guess.’ Raising her eyebrows, she laughs. ‘Many a slip ‘twixt cup and lip, as my grandma put it.’
They continue to climb companionably, breaking apart for the muddy puddles, then linking again.
Abruptly pulling away, Jen takes off her sunglasses and waves. ‘Just what we wanted, there’s Seb!’
‘Oh right,’ Dan replies. Hoping the alarm doesn’t show in his face, he nods towards Nick. ‘I’ll leave you and Seb to it. Better check on the groom. See if he needs a push after the rigours of his wedding night.’
Catching up with Nick, Dan tramps on, his walking boots heavy on his feet. He’s hungry and thirsty and nauseous, aware of Seb Taylor’s head at the front, inches above the other walkers. Aware when Seb stops, aware when he turns his dishevelled head.
‘Look there,’ Nick says suddenly and Dan follows his arm towards the windswept coast and the grey choppy sea. ‘See below that ridge? The oaks are in a sort of canopy. Apparently they’ve been stunted by the strong wind and they’re a haven for woodland flowers and creatures.’
Dan raises his eyebrows, surprised at Nick’s interest. It feels like a conversation between strangers, weird and surreal. Like the astonishing blip; like bloody Seb Taylor. ‘Sounds lovely. Not exactly central minging Manchester, is it?’ He smiles, tasting the salty air on his lips. ‘She’ll turn you into a country boy if you’re not careful.’
‘Nah, not Lisa. She hasn’t lived here for years and since her mum died there isn’t the need to visit very often. I think we’ve successfully converted her.’ He pauses for a moment, then grins, the familiar Nick Quinn returned behind his toothy smile. ‘Except the rugby. When it comes to rugby, she’s Welsh.’
The oasis appears without warning, an old farmhouse building rendered white, with shiny worn cobbles and casks in its yard. ‘You go ahead,’ Nick says. ‘Better wait for the wife!’
Real ale, hot drinks and traditional cakes are on offer at the bar. Not ready to face food after all, Dan knocks back a mug of strong tea, helps himself to another and sits.
Jen thumps down at his bench with a cup of hot chocolate and a plate. ‘Welsh bakestones, apparently,’ she says, nibbling the cake. Then leans in to whisper, ‘I feel guilty, but I can’t summon up the usual court jester stuff today, so I’m going to cheat.’ She slips on her sunglasses. ‘God knows I could do with the exercise, but I’ve asked Ian to drive up with the girls and collect me. Bloody hangover! Don’t think I can face the walk back.’
Dan looks around the low-beamed room. The numbers seem thin. ‘I don’t think you’re the only one.’ He rubs at a knot in the wooden tabletop. ‘Take it Seb has gone too?’
‘I don’t know, he was outside smoking something that wasn’t a cigarette.’
He feels surprise and mild outrage. He’s never done drugs, not even weed.
‘Oh, don’t be so square,’ Jen says, laughing. ‘You should see your lemon face. It’s what the young ones do. They do weed instead of cigarettes.’
‘We’re not that much older than Seb. Four, five years, tops,’ he says, thinking, thirteen, the swimming gala; Seb Taylor was thirteen.
‘Maybe you’re right; I lose track. God, I keep thinking about Will and what he’s going to do.’
Dan nods, thinking of the quip about asking his mum. His mum is the last person he’d ask about anything, but he joked because the thought of losing Geri scares him. Without Geri there, strong and solid, he’d be lost.
A beep from the courtyard interrupts the small silence. Jen lifts her sunglasses and peers through the leaded window. ‘Ian’s a bloody star. Do you want a lift back?’
‘Cheers, but no thanks. Catch up with you soon.’
He strolls to Nick and the remaining handful of walkers. Jen’s offer was tempting, but he’s still the best man, the only best man. He sits at a rustic table, chatting with the other guests until Lisa announces in her clear-cut Welsh tones that it’s time to walk back to the hotel and that if anyone needs a wee, now is the time.
Stroking the soft growth on his chin, Dan reminds himself to shave. He takes out his mobile to call Geri, then remembers she’ll be napping. ‘Just texting Geri. Catch you up,’ he calls over to Nick. When he looks up from his phone, Seb Taylor is sitting on the other side of the table.
‘Perhaps I did get it wrong,’ Seb says with a small smile. He looks different again. Like he’s just out of bed. Tired eyes, messy hair, unshaved chin.
Dan feels his face growing hot. He’d rather forget it.
‘Or perhaps not,’ Seb adds, his startling blue eyes piercing Dan’s.
Dan drops his gaze, the blush deepening. Seb’s legs are touching his under the table. ‘Full marks for the correct answer first time,’ he says, lamely trying for a quip. ‘Everyone’s going, we’d better get a move on. I just need a piss.’ He nods to the outside door, willing Seb away. ‘Don’t wait. I’ll catch up with you.’
The downhill walk takes less time. Trying to focus on the other walkers’ conversation at the front of the group, the heat in Dan’s cheeks finally recedes. It took him ages to piss. He had to sit in the cubicle and wait, like a stupid bloody teenager.
Geri is waiting on the sofa in reception when he returns to the hotel. She comes to the doorway and smiles her sunny smile. ‘The miracle of fresh air! You all look much better than you did three hours ago.’ She lifts her dark eyebrows in silent communication. ‘My back’s been aching and it’s a long drive home. Would you mind if we leave sooner rather than later, Dan? We’re all packed.’
‘Come on, Dan, there’s time for a half,’ somebody says. ‘We’re looking forward to dishing the dirt part two.’
Dan crouches