‘So,’ he said, leaning into my side, his breath warm against my cheek, taunting me with his citrus loveliness again, ‘how long do you give them?’
‘Sorry?’ I said, uncertain I’d heard him correctly.
‘Angie and Tom,’ he whispered. ‘How long do you think it will last?’
I looked over my shoulder to see if Tom’s Nana Gladys who was sitting on the other side of me had heard Alex’s impertinent question but she was deep in conversation with her sister. Thank goodness! I turned back to Alex who looked as though he was actually waiting for some kind of sensible answer.
‘I honestly can’t believe you said that! That’s a terrible question to ask. The ink’s barely dry on their marriage certificate and already you’re questioning how long they’ll be together. That’s so disrespectful. Can’t you just let them have their special day and be happy for them?’
‘Oh, I am happy for them. Really I am. And I hope it works out, but, you know, you can’t help wondering these things, can you?’
‘I haven’t even given it a thought,’ I said, taking a restorative sip of water from my glass. Well actually I had given it more than a second thought, but I would never admit that to anyone else, especially someone I’d only just met. I quickly reassessed my opinion of Alex.
‘Maybe it’s just me then.’ He shrugged, his mouth twisting in a way that might have been charming if I wasn’t quite so irritated with him.
‘Yes, I think it might be. I mean why would you think something like that on a day like today?’
‘Well you have to admit it’s a bit of a lottery, getting married.’
In profile, Alex’s strong jawline and defined cheekbones lent him an air of superiority that might have been intimidating if it wasn’t for the amused knowing smile that seemed to hover permanently at his lips. His eyes flickered with amusement too, particularly when he focused his gaze on me, and I wasn’t sure if he was genuinely worried about the newlyweds’ future or if he was being deliberately provocative. Maybe he knew something I didn’t know. After all, he was Tom’s best friend.
‘Hmm, well in that case we have to hope that Tom and Angie have picked out the winning ticket.’
At the other end of the table Angie’s father stood up and proposed a toast to the bride and groom.
‘To Tom and Angie!’ We all stood up and raised our glasses to the happy couple. Angie and I exchanged a look, one that said ‘I love you, best friend’, and I hoped with every fibre in my being that she really had found her happy ending. Then I chinked glasses with Alex, my gaze lingering on his face a moment too long, distracted by the colour of his eyes which earlier I could have sworn were a dark blue, but now looked to be a greeny-grey hue.
‘Sure, but you have to be realistic about these things,’ he said, once we were sat down again. ‘You only need to look at the divorce figures to know that a lot of marriages will be doomed to failure.’
Distracting eyes or not, he was spoiling my mood. This was a celebration for heaven’s sake. I’d put my concerns away for the day. Why couldn’t he? The champagne was flowing nicely and the waiting staff had just delivered the most delicious looking slice of smoked salmon and prawn terrine to my place which was making my mouth water. I couldn’t wait to tuck in.
‘You are clearly not a romantic, Alex, I can tell,’ I said, hoping that would put an end to that particular line of conversation. I picked up my knife and fork and looked around me to see if it was okay to start. Nothing was going to spoil my appetite today.
He laughed, a warm slow chuckle that caused me to pause, fork in air, for a moment; I hated to admit it but the sound was so intoxicating it warmed my insides.
‘Quite the opposite. I am a complete romantic. That’s why I would only get married if I knew for certain that I’d want to spend the rest of my life with that person.’
‘What?’ I gave him my best, most withering look. ‘Doesn’t everyone think like that when they are about to get married?’ This man was talking complete and utter rubbish. ‘I can’t believe anyone goes into a marriage thinking it’s not going to work.’
‘Perhaps you’re right,’ he said, giving me a sideways glance and the benefit of that lazy smile again. I was wondering now if his eyes were more a hazelly brown colour. ‘Still doesn’t explain why so many marriages fail though.’
‘Who knows, but we shouldn’t be talking about such things today.’ I reprimanded him lightly with a tap on his arm and he looked down at his suit where I’d touched him, as if I’d actually hurt him, and he raised an eyebrow at me with an amused expression on his face.
‘Okay, well let me tell you about my gran and granddad. They met when she was sixteen and he was seventeen. Her father, who was very strict and a bit of a bully from what I’ve heard, tried to stop her from seeing him, so do you know what they did?’
I shook my head.
‘They ran away to Gretna Green and got married. They’d only known each other for three weeks. Now is that romantic enough for you?’
‘Oh gosh, that is romantic,’ I said with a heartfelt sigh. ‘Can you imagine? And did they have a long and happy marriage?’
‘They’ve just celebrated their diamond wedding anniversary. We had a big party for them the other week.’
‘That’s so lovely,’ I said, and for a moment I felt a pang of regret for my nan, who wasn’t around any more to enjoy those type of celebrations with Gramps. They’d missed out on their golden anniversary by about fourteen months, but Gramps and I had been adamant that we were still going to celebrate the occasion anyway by going to Nan’s favourite restaurant, eating her favourite food and toasting her memory. It had been a special but poignant day.
‘Fancy only knowing someone for three weeks and then marrying them and it lasting for all those years.’
‘Exactly. That’s what I mean about it being a bit of a lottery. I mean you hear stories like that, but then there are those people who’ve lived together for years, finally decide to get marriage and then, within a matter of months, it’s all over. I’ve never quite understood that either.’
We moved onto our main course. The most delicious aromas were wafting towards my nostrils; roasted duck breast, potato rosti, honey roasted carrots and savoy cabbage.
‘Hmm, that happened to me,’ I said, not entirely sure why I was choosing to divulge this information to a stranger.
‘What? You’re married?’
‘No, I was. Nearly. I mean, I nearly got married. Could you pass me the water please?’ More water, less champagne was clearly what was required here. ‘I was with someone for nine years and we were about to get married and then, well, we split up.’
‘Oh, that’s tough. Sorry for that. Nine years is like a marriage.’
‘Yeah, it was just one of those things,’ I said, waving my hand in front of my face in a suitably nonchalant manner as though it hadn’t mattered in the slightest. ‘It obviously wasn’t meant to be. Maybe for those couples who have been together for a long time, getting married is a sticking plaster to cover the cracks already in the relationship, and it’s only when they’ve made that firm commitment that they realise that they can’t make it better after all.’
Alex pondered on that for a moment before tilting his head to one side and nodding his head sagely.
‘That’s very profound. You might have a point there.’
And I wondered as I said it if that’s what had happened to Paul and me. It had been a now or never situation. We’d been together so long we either had to make a commitment or go our separate ways. It was only when we started thinking about our future, making