The Eleventh-Hour Groom

His features were impassive, his eyes dark, remote. ‘You’ve got some cool nerve to lecture on the principles of marriage, Beth. May I remind you that the “business venture” was your idea. You proposed it, talked me into it, then walked out on it.’

‘Because it was a mistake.’ She held his gaze for as long as she could, then had to look away.

What was he thinking? she wondered. Probably about the fact that, financially, she had done all right out of the situation.

She shrugged. Maybe it was best to leave his opinion of her where it was. Better that than him knowing how much she had loved him, she thought suddenly. He’d find that really amusing.

She reached for her wine and took a hasty sip. ‘Anyway I’ll have to write to Cheryl, tell her we’ve split up,’ she continued briskly. ‘I’ve been meaning to write for quite some time, but I keep putting it off.’

‘I’ve brought her letter with me.’ Jay reached into his inside jacket pocket and brought out the letter, passing it across the table to her. ‘I thought you’d want to read it. Her new address and telephone number are on there as well.’

‘Thanks.’ She put it away in her handbag. Then went back to toying with her food.

She felt somehow mollified when she noticed that Jay hadn’t eaten much of his meal either. He must be tired, she thought suddenly. The jet lag travelling from the Caribbean to Europe was quite bad.

‘How long are you planning on staying?’ she asked him abruptly.

‘Long enough for you to sign the papers.’ He looked over at her pointedly. ‘I want to bring them back with me.’

She nodded and straightened her cutlery on the plate, giving up on the pretence of eating. ‘I’ll sign them tonight.’

‘Thanks.’

So that was it, then, she thought, it was the end of the marriage. And it had been reasonably civil: no shouting, no recriminations…well, not many. Just a stack of paperwork to sign. Somewhere inside she felt like crying.

‘Would you like pudding, or a coffee?’ Jay asked as their plates were taken away.

‘No thanks.’ She glanced at her watch. ‘I should be going. I really have got work to do.’

‘I’ll drive you home.’ Jay raised his hand to gain the waiter’s attention.

They didn’t speak again until they were back in the car, driving along the darkened streets. Things were quieter now, the rush hour over, the hectic scrabble to get out of the city finished.

She directed him to her home, trying not to let her mind skip ahead to the future. Once the divorce papers were signed, would she ever see him again?

He stopped the car outside the mews where she had an apartment and looked over at her.

Silence hung heavily between them. He noticed how the streetlight played over her features. She looked incredibly pale. The Elizabeth he had known had always had a golden tan. It had been a surprise to see how fair her complexion was, quite a beautiful contrast against the raven darkness of her hair.

His gaze lingered for a moment on the softness of her lips. She moistened them.

Did he make her nervous? he wondered suddenly. Did he still have the power to turn her on?

‘You’ve got something in your hair,’ he murmured, reaching out to brush a finger through a wisp of her silky hair at an imaginary speck.

He watched how she reacted to his touch, noting the faint blush that appeared high on her cheekbones, the almost imperceptible shiver as his fingers made contact with her skin.

He pulled back, a curl of satisfaction stirring inside him. The idea that he still had some power over her senses pleased him. Why was that? he wondered. Was it because he was still angry with her for walking out so soon after their marriage? She had certainly dented his pride when she had left, and there was a small part of him that would like to settle that score.

‘Are you going to invite me in?’ he asked softly.

He noticed how she swallowed nervously.

‘That way, I can wait while you sign my papers.’

He watched her very carefully; there was a flicker of annoyance in the bright blue of her eyes before she swiftly turned her head away. He smiled. If he played things carefully, maybe he could have a little sporting pleasure before ending things. Do a little damage to her pride.

She pulled her coat further around her body. His impatience to finish things grated on raw nerves. She wondered if his sudden haste to get a divorce meant he was planning on marrying again straight away.

She thought about asking him, but then couldn’t bring herself to form the question.

A few snowflakes twirled down onto the windscreen from the darkened sky. Maybe he was just in a hurry to get back to Jamaica, she thought. And really she couldn’t blame him.

‘Come on in,’ she said resignedly. ‘I’ll make us a coffee.’ She reached for her briefcase.

‘Oh, hell!’ She scrabbled frantically in the dark space at her feet.

‘What is it?’

‘My briefcase isn’t here!’ She scrabbled even more frantically, her fingers locking on nothing more than her handbag.

‘Don’t panic, it has to be somewhere.’ Jay switched on the overhead light. ‘Did you bring it into the restaurant with you?’

She closed her eyes, willing herself to remember. ‘Yes…yes, I did.’ She remembered putting it under the table. Then she remembered picking it up as they made to leave. She frowned. ‘I think I put it down when the waiter helped me on with my coat. I must have left it in the restaurant! How stupid of me.’

She couldn’t believe she had done such a thing. She was usually so methodical, so level-headed. But her mind had been on Jay, on the divorce. Her eyes widened. ‘The papers you want me to sign are in there.’ She remembered suddenly.

His eyes narrowed. ‘Are you doing this on purpose?’ The soothing note had gone from his voice now, she noted.

‘No, of course not. My laptop computer is in there as well.’ She groaned. ‘And my mobile phone. What a nightmare!’ She reached for the door handle. ‘I better ring the restaurant, see if they still have it.’

Jay locked the car and followed her through the green Georgian door into her ground-floor apartment.

She was glad she had tidied up this morning before going to work. The pretty apartment with its terracotta carpets and cream furnishings looked immaculate as she flicked on the side lamps.

She took out the phone book and flicked hurriedly through it, aware as she did so of Jay wandering around the lounge, picking up some framed photos on the mantelpiece. Some were old ones, taken when her mum was alive. Some from more recent years were of her father and Cheryl’s wedding day.

Her phone call was answered and she turned her attention to the foreign accent at the other end.

Jay wandered over to the other side of the room, noting the fact that there was a kitchen, a bathroom and just one double bedroom. His eyes lingered for a moment on her bed, lit by a single shaft of light from the open doorway.

For a moment he found himself remembering her words in the restaurant, Marriage is too important to reduce it to a mere business venture. She hadn’t thought like that when she had given herself to him in the marital bed, he reflected angrily.

He turned around and watched her as she spoke on the phone. He noted her long, slender fingers were devoid of the plain wedding band she had once worn.

She smiled at him and covered the receiver with her hand. ‘They have my briefcase, Jay,’ she said happily.

‘Well, what a relief!’ he drawled sardonically.