They don’t have to tell me. I can read the signs. She was in love with him. He was with some other woman, probably in the room next door. The remorseful look on his face says it all.
“Anyway,” Pierre continues. “I asked Liam if I could sleep in his room, and he made me feel very safe.”
That’s what he meant… What he said in his letter to me about sharing a bed with someone without sex. So, he made Pierre feel safe. My wise, kind, and loving brother. I’ve underestimated him, it seems. Oh Liam, how little I knew him.
And then Pierre says something else. “He worried about you.”
“Me?”
Gabriel turns to chat to Lord M, probably so Pierre and I can talk privately.
“He had a letter from you that week, just before Millie’s wedding which worried him. Said you were on tour in South America.”
I think back, letter? Then I remember.
I’d been seeing a Bolivian singer and she’d invited me to her cousin’s villa. We’d only met two weeks before, but she suddenly started getting very clingy and talking about meeting her parents.For God’s sake. When I told her we were clearly not on the same page, she reacted very badly.
“Yes. It’s a funny story actually. I was in La Paz with a woman and she… Well, let’s just say she kicked me out of the house. At ten o’clock at night. So, there I was in a strange city, trying to find a hotel. Quite the adventure.”
“Yes, he worried about your love life.”
“Nothing to worry about, I didn’t really know her all that well, and I wasn’t sorry when it ended.”
“I think that’s what worried him. He told me once it never took you longer than a drive to the airport to get over a girlfriend.”
My initial impulse is to laugh, but it soon morphs into something else.
Was he right? My wise brother. I’ve been missing the advantages of my carefree life. What did he see that I’m missing?
“Sorry, I don’t mean to make feel uncomfortable.” Pierre says. “And anyway, you’re married now and expecting a baby, so he needn’t have worried. You were just waiting for the right girl.”
“Nothing better than finding the right girl.” Gabriel curls an arm around her and pulls her in for a swift kiss.
All around me are couples in love. And suddenly there’s nothing funny about this picture of my sex life, nothing funny at all.
“Excuse me.” George Du Montfort has swapped seats with Pierre and sits beside me. “Do you give private performances?” he asks.
My mind is still on my sex life. “Excuse me?”
If Liam made me sound like some porn star, I’m going to kill him.
“You know we’re expecting a baby in the new year.”
“Y…e…s.” My mind is going to very weird places.
“You’d have to be solo, obviously. Because I’m Seigneur, we’ll have to have a very public ceremony for the christening. At Saint Mary’s.”
“Oh, you mean music?”
“Of course.”
We have time for no more; it’s nearly midnight and someone goes round topping up drinks and telling us to get ready for the countdown.
Dr Mortimer, he insists we call him Adam, takes Laura in his arms with a smile and touches the tip of his nose to hers as they wait for the count.
George rises from his chair and goes to find his wife. People start to fall into couples. Only I and Lessa are still seated and far apart. I push my chair back, walk over to her, and place a hand on her shoulder. She stands up, looking a little unsure, and we move a little out of the way.
We’ve already agreed. No fake kissing. “Do you need to text anyone?” I ask her softly.
