Alex screwed up his face. “I think it was something they didn’t have they were more interested in, strangely.”

“An extradition treaty?” I suggested.

“That’s the blighter. Anyway, fearfully nice lady. I do hope she comes back to see Miffy and me tie the knot.”

“I wouldn’t pin your hopes on it.”

“I suppose it is a long way.” He paused. “But you’ll come, won’t you?”

“Technically you haven’t invited me yet.”

“The proper invitation will be along in a day or so. So sorry it’s such short notice. Dashed thing: it turns out a surprising number of people aren’t in Debretts.” He gave me a faintly chiding look. “You should get that seen to, old boy.”

“I’ll get right onto it,” I said. “Right after I get my seat in the Lords.”

“I wouldn’t bother. It’s all political now.”

I decided to let that one die on the vine. “Thanks for the tip.”

Alex beamed. “Anytime. Well, not anytime. Not if I’m asleep for example. Or when I’m in the bath. Chap should never talk politics with another chap in the bath.”

“What should”—why was I asking this, what was wrong with me—“another chap talk about with another chap in the bath?”

“Rugger.”

“Noted.”

Alex gave me one of his vague, amiable looks. “In any case, do save the date, won’t you? I mean, when I send you the date. I’d tell you but can’t remember it off the top of my top.”

“Shall do,” I said. “Thanks.”

And then Alex drifted away, leaving me with a nebulous sense of unsettlement. Obviously I was happy for him—at least as happy as I could be for a man who, when you thought about it, embodied literally everything that was wrong with the British class system—but I was also… I don’t know.

This was a lot of…yeah?

It was kind of like I was at a station and everyone else was getting on trains or like I was at a restaurant and everybody else was on their main course, while I was staring at the departure board…or menu…or…

Fuck.

This made no sense. I was happier than I had ever been in my life. So why did I feel like I was failing?

Chapter 13

"WE STILL DON’T HAVE TO do this,” said Oliver as we got off the Tube in Shoreditch, on our way to do this.

This being attending the wedding of the man who’d ruined my life. Well, ruined a bit of my life. A bit of my life that had seemed quite important at the time.

I took his hand decisively and definitely not desperately. “We do. I mean, I do. I mean, it’s a closure thing. Look, I think I need to, okay?”

And Oliver, being Oliver, just said, “Of course.”