Wedding Night

plant fund, and I really feel this is—”
    “She’ll do it, OK?” Richard pushes forward, his voice thundering so loudly that the light fittings practically tremble. “She’s planning a great project. She’s creative. These things take time. So
back off
!”
    The elderly man recoils in alarm, and I raise my eyebrows at Richard. Wow. I wouldn’t mind someone fighting in my corner like that once in a while.
    Also: I was right. He’s definitely a bull, not a lion. If he were a lion, he would even now be stalking Ben with stealthy patience through the undergrowth. Richard’s too straightforward to do that. He’d rather charge furiously at the nearest target, even if it means a thousand teacups broken in the process. So to speak.
    The door closes and we look at each other uncertainly, as though the interruption has changed the air.
    “I should go,” says Richard abruptly, and buttons up his raincoat.
    “You’re going back to San Francisco?” I say in dismay. “Just like that?”
    “Of course.”
    “But what about Lottie?”
    “What about her? She’s married and I wish her every happiness.”
    “Richard …” I wince, not knowing what to say.
    “They were Romeo and Juliet and now they’ve found each other again. Makes total sense. Good luck to them.”
    He’s upset, I realize. Really upset. His jaw is taut and his gaze is distant. Oh God, I feel terrible now. I shouldn’t have read her diary out. I simply wanted to shock him out of his complacency.
    “They
aren’t
Romeo and Juliet,” I say firmly. “Look, Richard, if you really want to know, they’re both having complete fuckwit meltdowns. Lottie hasn’t been thinking straight since you and she split up, and apparently this Ben is having his own midlife crisis.… Richard, listen. Please.” I put a hand on his arm and wait till he gives me his attention. “The marriage won’t last. I’m pretty sure of that.”
    “How can you be pretty sure?” He scowls as though he hates me for even raising his hopes.
    “I just have a feeling,” I say mysteriously. “Call it sisterly intuition.”
    “Well, whatever.” He shrugs. “That’ll be a way down the line.” He heads back into the bedroom and picks up his suitcase.
    “No, it won’t!” I hurry after him and grab his shoulder to make him stop. “I mean … it might be sooner than you think. Much sooner. The point is, if I were you, I wouldn’t give up. I’d hang fire and see.”
    Richard is silent a few moments, clearly fighting his own hopes. “When exactly did they get married?” he asks suddenly.
    “This morning.” I wince inwardly as I realize how crap his timing was. If only he’d arrived one day earlier …
    “So tonight’s their—” He breaks off as though he can’t bear to say it.
    “Wedding night. Yes. Yes, I suppose it is.” I pause and examine my nails, my face carefully blank, my demeanor innocent. “Well. Who knows how that will go?”

10

LOTTIE
    I can’t stand it. I can’t
stand
it any longer. I’m going to be the first person who ever died from sexual frustration.
    I can remember long, unbearable waits as a child. Waiting for pocket money. Waiting for my birthday. Waiting for Christmas. But I’ve never had a wait as nightmarish as this. It’s been absolute torture. Five hours, four hours, three hours to go … All through the plane journey and the car ride from the airport, I’ve been silently chanting,
Soon … soon … soon …
It’s the only way to keep sane. Ben keeps fondling my leg. He’s staring straight ahead, breathing evenly. I can tell he’s as pent up as I am.
    And now it’s just minutes to go. The hotel is half a kilometer away. The driver is turning off the main road. The closer we get, the less I can bear it. These last moments of delay are killing me. All I want is Ben.
    I’m trying to look around and show an interest in our surroundings, but it’s only road and scrubby hills and garish billboards for Greek drinks with unfamiliar names. The airport is on the other side of the island from the guest house westayed at all those years ago. I probably never even came here. So I’m not having any reminiscences or recognizing anything. I’m just feeling desperate.
    Soon … soon … soon …
We’ll be in our massive honeymoon suite bed, and our clothes will be lying on the floor, and we’ll be facing each other, skin-to-skin, nothing to stop us, and finally,
finally …
    “The Amba Hotel,” the driver announces