and he might have done it a bit too hard because the
Jamie leaned in close and whispered, “Don’t say anything.”
His father said, “Nnnnn.”
Jamie turned to Ray and said, “Take him indoors. Upstairs. The bedroom. Just…just keep him there, all right?”
Ray said, “Right you are,” as if Jamie had asked him to shift a sack of potatoes. He got Jamie’s father to his feet and began walking him out of the marquee.
Jamie went over to Tony.
David was saying, “The man’s a maniac.”
Jamie said, “I’m really sorry about that.” Then he turned to Tony and said, quietly, “Take him into the living room and call an ambulance.”
Tony said, “I don’t think he needs an ambulance.”
“Or a taxi or whatever. Just get him out of the house.”
“Oh, right, I see what you mean,” said Tony. He put his hand under David’s arm. “Come on, mate.”
Jamie stood up and turned round and realized that all of this had taken only a matter of seconds and the remaining guests were sitting stock-still and completely speechless, even Uncle Douglas, which was a first. And they were clearly expecting some kind of explanation or announcement, and Jamie was the person they were expecting it from, but he had to talk to his mother first, so he said, “I’ll be back in a minute,” and ran out of the marquee and found her standing on the far side of the lawn being consoled by a woman he didn’t recognize, while Ray and Tony ushered his father and David into the house, both of them keeping a tight hold on their charges to prevent any of the three coming into contact with one another.
His mother was crying. The woman he didn’t recognize was hugging her.
Jamie said, “I need to talk to my mother on her own.”
The older woman said, “I’m Ursula. I’m a good friend.”
“Go back inside the marquee,” said Jamie. The woman did not move. “Sorry. That sounded rude. And I didn’t mean to be rude. But you really do have to go away quite quickly.”
The woman backed off, saying, “OK,” in that careful voice you use with psychopaths to keep them calm.
Jamie took hold of his mother’s arms and looked her in the face. “It’s going to be all right.”
“I can explain everything,” said his mother. She was still crying.
“You don’t need to,” said Jamie.
“No,” said his mother. “That man, the one your father hit-”
“I know,” said Jamie.
His mother paused briefly and then said, “Oh my God.”
Her legs went a little rubbery and Jamie had to hold her upright for a couple of seconds. “Mum…?”
She steadied herself with a hand on his arm. “How did you know?”
“I’ll explain later,” said Jamie. “Luckily no one else knows.” He couldn’t remember the last time he felt this manly and competent. He had to move fast before the spell was broken. “We’re going back in. I’m going to make a speech.”
“A speech?” His mother looked petrified.
Jamie was a little nervous himself.
“A speech about what?” asked his mother.
“About Dad,” said Jamie. “Trust me.”
Thankfully his mother seemed incapable of disagreeing and when he put his arm around her shoulder and steered her back across the lawn she let herself be led.
They entered the canvas doorway, the conversation died away instantly and they moved slowly through a very pregnant silence back to their seats, their shoes clacking on the boarding beneath their feet.
Katie was holding Jacob on her lap. As Jamie and his mother reached the table, Jacob said, “Grandpa had a fight,” and over his shoulder Jamie heard someone suppress a panicky giggle.
Jamie stroked Jacob gently on the head, sat his mother down and turned to face everyone. Their number seemed to have doubled magically in the last few minutes. His mind went blank and he wondered if he was about to make an idiot of himself in much the same way that his father had done.
Then his brain came back online and he realized that after what his father had done, he could pretty much string two words together and everyone was going to be mightily relieved.
He said, “Sorry about all that. It wasn’t part of the plan.”
No one laughed. Understandably. He had to be a bit more serious.
“My father has not been terribly well recently. As you probably gathered.”
Was he going to have to mention the cancer? Yes, he was. There was no way round it.
“You’ll be relieved to hear that he doesn’t have cancer.”
This was trickier than he had expected. The atmosphere in the marquee was tangibly funereal. He glanced down at his mother. She was staring downward and trying to squeeze her napkin into as small a ball as possible in her lap.
“But he has been very depressed. And anxious. Particularly about the wedding. Particularly about making a speech at the wedding.”
He was hitting his stride now.
“He has a very nice doctor. His doctor gave him some Valium. He took rather a lot of it this morning. To help him relax. I think he probably overdid it.”
Again, no one laughed, but this time there was a kind of mumbled hum which felt promising.
“Hopefully he’s now upstairs in the house sleeping it off.”
And this was when Jamie realized he was going to have to deal not only with his father’s ill-judged speech but also with the fact that his father had head-butted his mother’s lover in front of everyone. Which was going to be a good deal more difficult. He paused. For rather a long time. And the atmosphere began to cool again.
“I have absolutely no idea why my father hit David Symmonds. To be honest I’m not entirely sure whether my father knew it was David Symmonds he was hitting.”
He felt like someone skiing downhill at a dangerously high speed through a forest of solid trees planted far too close to one another.
“They worked together at Shepherds some years ago. I don’t know if they’ve seen one another since. I guess the moral is that if you don’t get on with someone at work, then it’s probably not a good idea to invite them to your daughter’s wedding and take vast amounts of prescription drugs beforehand.”
At which point, thank God, the mumbled hum turned into actual laughter. From most of his audience at any rate (Eileen and Ronnie looked as if they had been freeze-dried). And Jamie realized he was finally reaching safer ground.
He turned to Katie and saw Jacob sitting on her lap with her arms round him, burying his head against her chest. Poor guy. He was going to need a pretty heavyweight debriefing when all this was over.
“But this is Katie and Ray’s special day,” said Jamie, raising his voice and trying to sound upbeat.
“Hear! Hear!” shouted Uncle Douglas, raising his glass.
And it was obvious from the rather startled reaction that many of the guests had forgotten that they were at a wedding.
“Unfortunately, the groom is looking after the father of the bride at the moment…”
Ray appeared in the doorway of the marquee.
“I tell a lie…”
All eyes swiveled toward Ray who stopped in his tracks and looked a little surprised to be the center of attention.
“So, on behalf of Katie and Ray, I think we should put the events of the last ten minutes behind us and help them celebrate their wedding. Katie and Ray…” He grabbed a half-full glass from the table in front of him. “Here’s wishing you a very happy day. And let’s hope the rest of your marriage is a little less eventful.”
Everyone raised their glass and there was a bout of slightly confused cheering and Jamie sat down and everyone fell silent and Sarah started clapping, then everyone else started clapping and Jamie wasn’t quite sure whether it was for Katie and Ray or whether he was being congratulated for his performance, of which he was
