Here Comes The Bride

and clutched her glass harder.

‘What?’

‘I think Clara hasn’t got much time for your John,’ he said provocatively. ‘I think she thinks he’s a dull dog, but she doesn’t want to tell you, and that’s why you’re hesitant about committing yourself to him.’

‘Rubbish!’

‘If you loved John and you thought he was the right man, you wouldn’t hesitate,’ said P.J. ‘You’re someone who loves completely and unconditionally.’

‘Yes, well, maybe I’ve learnt to look before I leap,’ Nell said a little bitterly, thinking of Simon.

The look in her eyes made P.J.’s chest hurt. He was just taking his disappointment out on her, he realised. It wasn’t Nell’s fault that he was still in love with her. ‘I’m sorry,’ he apologised in a different voice.

‘John’s a lucky man,’ he went on seriously. ‘I was just trying to say that if I was waiting for you, and you walked in wearing that dress, I would be really proud.’

Nell looked at him, and her heart contracted so painfully that she almost winced. If only she were going to meet P.J. tonight, instead of the blameless John. The longing to tell him so made it hard to speak, and for a moment she could only stand dumb with wishing that everything could be different.

She didn’t want John. He was a friend of Thea’s, and he would be nice, and friendly and charming and probably attractive and a perfect date, but he wasn’t what she wanted. He couldn’t be. She only wanted P.J.

A muscle worked desperately in her jaw to stop her mouth from wobbling, and P.J., understanding that she was upset, but not why, did what he could to lighten the atmosphere.

‘That dress is the third outfit I’ve seen you in today,’ he said, ‘and it’s definitely my favourite. You looked very nice in your track suit and trainers, of course, but they don’t have quite same the same allure, do they? And to be honest, I didn’t think the cool, crisp look you had this afternoon was quite you!’

Grateful to him for changing the subject, Nell made an effort to smile and follow his lead. ‘I usually carry off cool and crisp better than I did this afternoon,’ she told him. ‘My pen always works, and I manage not to walk into the furniture. But then I don’t usually walk into a meeting to find that I’m shaking hands with my ex-fiance! Did you know I was going to be there?’

P.J. shook his head. ‘Lester mentioned Eve’s name, but not that there would be anyone else with her. I couldn’t believe it when I saw you come in. After this morning, it seemed too much of a coincidence.’ He smiled crookedly. ‘Do you think fate might be trying to tell us something?’

‘Only that it’s as muddled as the rest of us,’ said Nell, as lightly as she could.

A waitress was hovering with a plate of spectacular canapes. Desperate for a distraction, to look at anything other than P.J., Nell took a firm hold of her glass and wedged her sequinned bag under her arm to give herself a free hand. She selected a canape at random, and was just lifting it to her mouth when someone behind her stepped back into her.

Nell’s arm was jolted, and she jerked instinctively to avoid dropping her champagne, but the movement was enough to dislodge the little bag, and, with her other hand full of canape, there was no way of saving it. If she’d been able to close it properly, no harm would have been done, but the Swahili phrase book burst through the clasp’s precarious hold and shot onto the floor, followed by all the other contents.

Had she really had all that stuff in that tiny bag? To Nell, rooted to the spot, it seemed as if the contents had multiplied bizarrely and that she was standing in a scattered sea of keys and lipsticks, mobile phones and credit cards, tissues and perfumes and ten-pound notes, all interspersed with the change from the minicab, which was rolling merrily amongst the shoes in every direction.

‘I’m so sorry.’ The man who had bumped into her was full of apologies, stooping like P.J. to help gather everything up.

Why was there never anywhere in these places to put a glass down? Nell looked around helplessly. With both hands full, she felt marooned and ridiculous, the two men apparently grovelling at her feet, and she had no choice in the end but to pop the canape in her mouth.

Still chewing, she bent to retrieve the little bag, and smiled embarrassed thanks as they handed back her scattered belongings. Someone brought over a pound coin that had rolled right into the middle of the room, another person found her comb. Thank goodness she hadn’t had anything really embarrassing in the bag!

‘I think that’s everything,’ she said, straightening, and turned to thank the man who had bumped into her for his help, and to assure him that there was no harm done, really.

‘Except for this.’ P.J. stood up with the Swahili phrase book in his hand, a strange expression on his face.

Nell’s heart sank at the sight of it. In all the confusion, for a minute there she had forgotten how odd the phrase book would look.

A smile hovered around P.J.’s mouth. ‘Don’t tell me you’re still trying to learn Swahili, Nell?’

‘No…I…I’m just lending it to John.’

‘Oh?’

‘Yes. He’s…um…thinking about a holiday in Kenya.’ Nell improvised as best she could, but it didn’t sound very convincing even to her own ears.

‘Really?’ P.J. smiled at her, a smile that evaporated the air in her lungs and made her pulse ring in her ears.

‘Yes,’ she said breathlessly, unable to think of anything else to say.

She wished P.J. would give her the book, but he was flicking through the pages. ‘Habarigani…how are you? Remember that? We used to practise it all the time.’

‘Not as often as we practised “two cold beers, please,’” said Nell, trying to make light of it, but her heart was thumping with memories.

P.J. screwed up his face and held up his hand. ‘Hold on…nataka beer mbili, baridi sana,’ he said triumphantly after a moment. ‘You see, I remember!’

‘I’m impressed,’ she said. ‘I would never have been able to remember that.’

‘I remember everything.’ His voice changed. ‘I remember how to say “I love you,” too. Nakupenda sana. I would have said that to you every day.’

Treacherous tears pricked at Nell’s eyes, and she bent her head, pretending to check that the bag was properly closed this time. ‘It’s all a long time ago,’ she managed after a moment.

‘Sixteen years,’ said P.J. ‘Remember what plans we had? We were going to do all the game parks, and climb Kilimanjaro and swim in the Indian Ocean…and then there was Zanzibar… Didn’t we talk about driving across the Sahara at one time, when getting on a plane seemed too tame?’

‘We must have been mad,’ said Nell, resisting the lure of the memories with a physical effort. ‘When you think about it now, it seems totally unrealistic.’

‘We were young,’ said P.J. gently. ‘Don’t you ever wish you could still be that unrealistic?’

Nell nodded sadly. She had had enough reality over the last few years. ‘You can’t recapture that feeling though. You’re never that young again.’

‘It doesn’t mean you have to give up on dreams,’ he said.

‘No, but it’s easier to be realistic in the long run.’ Nell bit her lip. ‘It’s less disappointing that way.’

P.J. closed the phrase book and handed it back to her. ‘Did you ever go to Africa?’

‘No.’ Nell shook her head.

Simon wouldn’t even consider an adventure holiday. They had always gone to expensive resorts where the rooms were air-conditioned and the plumbing always worked and the pool was carefully filtered. Nell had used to suggest going out to see something of the country they were in, but Simon had never been interested. ‘We’re here to relax, Nell,’ he would say exasperatedly. ‘It’s all right for you, but I’ve been working flat out for months.’

Nell pushed the memory aside. ‘What about you?’

‘I went to Tanzania once a few years ago.’

‘Was it as wonderful?’ she asked, trying to keep the envy out of her voice.

‘It was beautiful,’ P.J. said slowly. ‘Even more so than we imagined.’

But he hadn’t really enjoyed it being there without her. He had found himself watching the sunset and thinking