Our Kind of Cruelty(31)

I lifted my glass automatically, downing what was left in it. Ten months. A year. Ten months. A year. The words were like a steam train rattling through my brain. Verity and I had broken up at Christmas; it was now the middle of September. I counted down on my fingers even though I knew very well what the result would be. Nine months. I looked at Verity but she had stood up and was kissing Angus. My vision thinned to a small, white pin.

I endured Colin and the best man’s turgid speeches, only because I would have drawn too much attention to myself by leaving. I had to listen to how much everyone loved Angus and how Verity had had to overcome some difficulties, which was news to me, but was so happy now. I even had to hear Angus described as ‘the most eligible man in London’, a plainly absurd moniker for someone like him.

They finished in the end, as everything does, and the music began, so I was able to slip out into the now darkened night. Someone had lit a million candles and the garden seemed to sway with them. I stood by the side of the marquee and breathed deeply, letting the air expand my chest until I couldn’t hold any more, concentrating on the movement alone. The night was clear and the stars were sparkling, dotted across the sky like a message.

A woman was walking towards me, her steps small and her gait unsteady. Only when she got closer did I see it was Louise. She had a cigarette in her mouth, which she took out and waved at me. ‘You don’t have a light, do you?’

‘No,’ I said. ‘I don’t smoke.’

She laughed. ‘Of course you don’t. You couldn’t possibly have the strength to grow those muscles if you had a disgusting habit like this.’ She had stopped but her body was still rocking and her speech was slurred. ‘They’re about to have their first dance. You should go and watch.’

‘No thanks.’

‘Do you still love her?’

I looked over but it was dark where we were and I couldn’t make out all her features. ‘Why do you say that?’

‘Because you always loved her too much.’

‘How can you love someone too much?’

She laughed. ‘In the same way you can love someone too little. It’s like the three bears’ beds, it’s very rare you get it just right.’

I felt lost in the conversation. I didn’t know if she was trying to tell me something, maybe even something V had asked her to tell me.

‘You shouldn’t waste your time,’ Louise said. ‘Verity and Angus have got it just right and the rest of us can only marvel at their brilliance.’

‘You’re wrong.’

‘What is it about Verity? Why do all the boys go potty over her?’

‘Because she’s perfect.’ I couldn’t believe anyone needed to ask that question.

Louise stepped a little closer to me. ‘You know, I always fancied the pants off you, Mike. Not that you’d have ever noticed. You were like a puppy around Verity, only ever had eyes for her.’ She closed the gap between us and put her hand against my dick, on the outside of my trousers. ‘I hate James,’ she said. ‘He fucks like a rabbit.’

‘This is Verity’s wedding.’

‘So?’ she said, her hand still on my limp dick.

I pulled back, raising my hands as I did so to remove hers from my body, but she was so drunk she lost her balance and toppled backwards, her high heels skidding from under her. She fell in an undignified heap, landing by the side of the marquee.

She looked up at me. ‘What the fuck.’

I knew I should help her up and apologise, but something about her crumpled figure on the grass disgusted me. The flickering of the candles was adding to my headache and I found all I could do was turn and walk away across the grass.

‘You pushed me, you fucking maniac,’ she shouted ridiculously after me.

I walked back down into the village but the last train had long gone, so I went into the pub and ordered another pint and asked if they knew of a taxi which would drive me back to London. My headache was so bad by then my vision had become jarred and jagged. I couldn’t answer the barman when he asked if it had been a good wedding and he shrugged and moved on to the next customer. I feigned sleep in the back of the cab to avoid talking, but something about the movement must have lulled me because I woke up as we were pulling up outside my house. I paid the ￡250 requested and let myself in, where I went to the kitchen and opened a bottle of red which I didn’t even really want.

There was just so much I didn’t understand. People said things they didn’t mean the whole time. Or maybe they didn’t know what they meant? Or, most terrifying of all, maybe nothing in the world made sense? What would have happened, for example, if I had fucked Louise behind the marquee? What would she have said to James? Did she really hate him? How do rabbits fuck?

And was it possible that V had known Angus for a year? That they’d had their first date a month before I came home for Christmas? Did they really have it just right like Louise said or was he nothing more than a part in our Crave? If I hadn’t been such a massive idiot and fucked everything up by screwing Carly, perhaps V had planned to tell me all about Angus?

I banged my fist against the marble of the counter top, the pain spreading comfortingly up my arm. ‘V,’ I shouted into the air, ‘I just want to understand. I just need to know what you want me to do.’ But the silence kept its counsel and all I could do was sit down at my long kitchen table and drink the bloody wine.