Beta Male (32 page)

And then Alan did something quite remarkable.

We thought he had finished. He'd wound up the anecdote about proposing to Jess in Istanbul. There were no dry eyes left in the marquee, just as everyone had shed tears of mirth when he'd described her pre-emptive proposal to him outside his office. He was a much better speaker than anyone had imagined. But then he paused, the room in his hand, and whispered something in Jess's ear. She smiled and handed him something unidentifiable and made of metal. Alan straightened up again and continued.

‘There is one final thank-you I'd like to say, if you'll forgive me, and that is to my best and oldest friends, Sam, Ed and Matt. They have stood by me for over twenty-five years, through thick and thin, good times and bad, and I love them all like brothers. I want to say a very personal thank-you to all of them and also, I hope, a practical one.'

I looked across at Ed and Matt who both looked as confused as I did. None of us had any idea what he was talking about.

Alan went on: ‘My wife and I have talked this over at length, and we are agreed that marriage can be an isolating experience while you're still young. We don't want to live alone in a small, cocooned flat. We don't want to lose touch with some of our oldest friends. We're not convinced that two is enough these days. Now, as most of you know, I recently came into a rather large sum of money in somewhat unfortunate circumstances.' A knowing murmur went up around the room. Alan continued: ‘While Jess and I are moving into our new marital home in Camden, I hope Ed, Sam and Matt won't think it too presumptuous that I have also invested in the three-bedroom house next door.'

There was a long, stunned silence while Ed stared at Matt, who stared at me, who stared at Alan, who was, I now noticed,
dangling a front-door key and staring anxiously into the void. Everyone stared at all of us. And then Matt smiled, and Ed grinned, and I beamed from ear to ear. Alan and Jess looked at each other and laughed, allowing the rest of the wedding party to break into spontaneous applause at the sheer, contagious joy of it all.

Did I think it was presumptuous? No, I thought it was bloody marvellous. I'd given Alan a set of tablemats; he'd given me one third of a house.

Not that it would work long-term, of course. We'd argue, and fight, and maybe even meet other people ourselves with whom we wanted to organise a £20,000 party with a forty per cent chance of ending up in divorce. And in the meantime, it would be difficult to moan to the landlord about the leaking boiler when the landlord was your best friend. Plus, no doubt we'd get on Jess's nerves if we popped round the whole time. But until we were absolutely sure Ed was okay, until Matt had finished retraining and had a secure job, until I'd properly found my feet as an actor… Until then, whenever, and if ever, that might be, what was wrong with growing older in small steps?

Jess and Alan made their way out onto an empty dance floor. The lights dimmed, the band started and Alan slipped an arm round her waist. She let him lead and they moved as one fluent whole, spinning away from each other and drawing back close again. They had clearly been practising. A circle formed around them, the music gathered tempo and Jess beckoned the rest of the party to join them. Matt needed no second invitation; he'd grabbed pretty, weepy girl from Table 11 before I was even out of the starting blocks. Ed was close behind with Claire. I turned left. I turned right.
No one.
And so I went up to Jess's grandmother and asked if she would do me the honour. She gripped me tight with the hand that
wasn't holding her stick and we cleared a path out to the middle of the floor.

‘It has been the most wonderful wedding, hasn't it?' My voice sounded alien, but I meant it nonetheless.

Jess's grandmother looked up at me and smiled. ‘You have no idea how happy it makes an old lady to see her granddaughter on a day like this.'

I looked around at all the people who had been brought together by Alan and Jess. I looked at Alan's mother, laughing as Jess's father twirled her across the floor. Behind her, Jess's mother was helping Alan's father remove his jacket as he prepared for the dad-at-a-wedding dance to end all dads-at-a-wedding dances. I looked at all these people and thought, well, maybe, just maybe, I did have a little bit of an idea after all.

‘It's all about the family, isn't it?' I replied, spinning Jess's grandmother in a very gentle celebratory arc as the drummer rolled out the final bars of the first song.

‘Yes,' she said, as I bumped clumsily into Ed and Claire, locked in a passionate embrace. ‘It's all about the family. And the friends.'

There was a tap on my shoulder as the next song started up. I looked round.

‘Excuse me,' said Alan. ‘Do you mind if I cut in?'

‘Really, mate, this is taking the love-in too far. I don't want to dance with you.'

‘No, you idiot. I want to dance with Jess's grandmother. In the meantime, perhaps you'd do me the honour of dancing with my wife.'

Alan let go of Jess's hand and I took it instead. We started to dance.

‘Mrs Muir,' I said. ‘You look absolutely ravishing.'

‘Thank you, Sam. And thank you for your speech.'

‘Thank you for the house.'

‘I'm looking forward to being neighbours.'

‘Me, too. Until death do us part.'

Jess let out a small, ambiguous noise. It might have been a sigh of pleasure. It might have been a muted howl of despair.

‘Until death do us part.'

I'd like to thank:

My wonderful parents, and the rest of my family, for not disowning me after my first book

Diana, Matt and Ali, for their helpful suggestions and invaluable encouragement

Charlie Campbell, my ever-supportive agent at Ed Victor Ltd

Mary Morris, my excellent editor at Duckworth, and her brilliant colleagues

Michael McManus, for saving me from the wrong career path all those years ago

Christopher Howse, for generously finding me a new one while I wrote this book

Jimmy Ellis, the ur-alpha male, for unwittingly giving me the idea

Ed A-B, for his entrepreneurial good humour

Gaby's lovely book club, even if they didn't get their way on the colour of Rosie's hair

Literary Review
, for teaching me, very gently, that I can't write about sex

 

I'd like to apologise to:

My delightful evangelical Christian friends, especially if they turn out to be right