9

A moment or two after Tom drops that clanger, Cath excuses herself and says she needs to go outside for some air. The only people who would have noticed this as being a bit odd were me and Ben, and Ben’s busy in conversation with someone else and barely even notices her getting up. I can’t leave things like this, so I follow her, out into the car park at the back of the pub. It’s only when I step outside that I realise I’ve left my coat indoors, hanging over the back of my chair.

‘Cath,’ I say, walking up to her.

‘Bridezilla? Why would you even say something like that?’

I can tell it’s pointless even pretending I didn’t. She’ll have known from the look on my face at the table that it’s true. I must have looked like a guppy fish, sitting there trying to work out what to say but floundering around, lost for words, the colour of beetroot.

‘Cath, it’s not like it seems. Tom heard the story second hand, and he must have got his words muddled up. He’s just—’

‘Oh really? Second hand? So you’ve been talking to other people about what a terrible person I am too, then, have you?’

‘No! I haven’t been talking to anyone. I just mentioned to Tom the other night that you seemed worked up about the wedding. It was just a totally normal conversation.’

‘Grace, I’ve asked you for your help. I’ve gone along with all of your ideas. I haven’t been worked up in the slightest.’

‘I just… Tom asked what I was worried about, and I said that. I shouldn’t have, but I did. So there we go.’

‘I’m not worried about what you said or didn’t say, Grace. That’s not the point.’

‘So what is the point?’

Cath shuffles from one foot to the other. ‘It’s Tom.’

‘What about him? What’s that meant to mean?’

‘You know damn well what it means. He’s wheedled his way in, earned your ear, now you’re telling him all our private conversations. Is it any surprise I don’t think it’s a good idea to move him in with you? He’s not right, Grace.’

‘You mean he’s not Matt.’

‘That’s uncalled for.’

‘Is it?’

‘Come on, Grace. How long have we known each other?’

‘It’s not about us, is it? It’s about Tom. A guy you’ve spent ten seconds with in your life up until tonight.’

‘As if you’ve spent any longer with him. And he’s hardly coated himself in glory tonight, has he?’

I look at her for a few moments, not knowing quite what to say. ‘It’s not that simple,’ I manage, eventually.

‘Yes it is. When Tom was making those comments, there was something in his eyes. A glint. It was almost as if he was getting a kick out of saying those things, like he knew it was going to provoke a reaction.’

‘I dunno,’ I say. ‘That doesn’t sound much like Tom to me.’