What Might Have Been (29 page)

51

E
van could guess which of the huge glass-and-brick structures on the river-front was the right building even before he’d matched the number on the gates to the RSVP address on the wedding invitation, and sure enough, David’s block was the tallest. He scanned the list of names above the buzzers, then pressed the button hesitantly, almost losing his nerve when David answered. But at the same time, the abrupt ‘Yes?’ reminded him why he was here.

‘It’s Evan.’

‘Evan,’ said David, after the briefest of pauses. ‘What a pleasant surprise. Come on up. Third floor.’

The door buzzed open and Evan walked inside, telling himself not to be overawed by the expensively decorated lobby. As always, he was amazed at how Shad Thames was so close to where he lived, yet when you were actually there, his part of Bermondsey felt a million miles away. He nodded to the liveried porter, who pointed him in the direction of the lift, then followed David’s ‘third floor’ instruction, and a few moments later, he was knocking on an expensively panelled front door.

‘I thought you’d be Sarah,’ said a smiling David, showing him inside.

‘She’s on her way here?’

‘That’s right. She’s just telephoned, actually.’

‘Oh. Right.’ Evan wanted to turn round and go, but he couldn’t think of an excuse. Then again, he realised, if Sarah was coming here, it would be the perfect opportunity for David to tell her what he’d been up to. And for Evan to witness her reaction first-hand.

‘Drink?’ barked David.

Evan didn’t need to think about his answer. ‘Yeah,’ he said, following David into the kitchen. ‘Thanks.’

‘Beer OK?’

‘Great.’

David strode over to the fridge and extracted a bottle of Grolsch, popped the top off the bottle, and handed it to Evan. ‘Did you want a glass?’

‘As it comes is fine. You not having one?’

‘That was the last one.’

‘Ah. Did you want it?’

David laughed. ‘Mustn’t. I’m watching my weight. Got to try to look half decent in the wedding photos. Even though the only person everyone will notice is Sarah, of course.’

Evan didn’t contradict him. ‘How’s she doing?’

‘Oh, you know,’ David said, as he led Evan through into the front room.

The flat was enormous, and Evan wondered whether ‘third floor’ was actually a factual description. Even the hallway was bigger than Evan’s lounge, and it was all he could do to stop his jaw from dropping open at the view of Tower Bridge through the window.

‘And how are preparations going for the big day?’

‘It’s not going to be that big, actually, but fine, I suppose. Sarah’s department, really. Though as far as I can tell, everyone we invited seems to be coming. Which I hope includes you?’

Evan decided to sidestep the question. ‘Possibly because you put “open bar” on the invitations. Tell people the alcohol’s free, and they’re bound to show up.’

‘Quite.’

David smiled, then indicated for him to sit down, and for a moment, Evan wondered whether he shouldn’t stand, but David had already flopped onto the plush white leather sofa, and he felt awkward enough already. He draped his jacket carefully over the back of the single armchair, lowered himself carefully down, and took a swig of beer.

‘Listen, David . . .’

Before he could say any more, the sound of a key in the lock made him jump up from his seat as if it were electrified. David regarded him strangely, then put his finger to his lips. ‘In here, sweetheart,’ he called. ‘I’ve got a surprise for you.’

Evan could hear Sarah sigh. ‘Not now, David. I’m tired, and I have to tell you something.’ She marched into the front room, stopping in her tracks when she noticed they had a visitor. ‘What’s going on?’

‘Ta-da!’ said David, followed by a slightly more hesitant ‘
Ta-d
a?’, when he saw Sarah’s expression.

‘I just dropped round.’ Evan looked across at David anxiously, worried he’d lose his nerve, but at least they were all here now, and if he was going to make David tell her about his indiscretion, then there was no time like the present. But something about Sarah’s expression made him hesitate. ‘And . . .’

‘And you’ll stay for a spot of dinner, of course?’ said David.

‘I’m not sure.’ Evan looked at his watch. ‘I . . .’

‘I insist.’ David marched over to where Sarah was standing and put his arm around her. ‘Or rather,
we
insist, don’t we, sweetheart?’ he said, and that made up Evan’s mind for him.

‘In that case, I’d love to.’

‘Great. Indian? I’ll pop out and pick up some more booze, and put in an order with the takeaway on the corner while I’m at it.’

Evan saw Sarah wince at the word ‘booze’. Was there a time when she’d found it charming, he wondered? ‘Sounds good,’ he said, smiling across at her, but it wasn’t until David had slammed the front door behind him that she finally addressed him.

‘
Jesus
, Evan.’

‘Sorry. I didn’t think you’d be here.’

She shrugged her coat off angrily and threw it onto the sofa. ‘Well, I sure as hell didn’t think
you’d
be here. But then you seem to make a habit of showing up in inappropriate places.’

Evan didn’t have an answer for that, so instead, he pointed at the dress carrier Sarah had draped over the back of a dining chair. ‘And what’s that?’ he asked, though he feared he wouldn’t like the answer.

‘My wedding dress,’ said Sarah, defiantly.

‘I hope you’ve still got the receipt?’

‘That’s not funny.’

‘So you’re still thinking of going through with it? After everything.’

‘Do you mean the other night?’

‘Not just the other night, no. But now that you mention it . . .’

‘What do you want me to do?’

‘Like I said. Marry
me,
Sarah. Not David.’

She looked at him, open mouthed, then suddenly the strength seemed to go out of her legs, and she sat down heavily on the sofa.

‘Why?’

‘Because I love you.’

‘David loves me.’

‘Well, because you love me, then.’

Sarah stared at him. She couldn’t counter that one so easily. And yet, to admit that she didn’t love David in the same way . . . well
, that was something she couldn’t quite bring herself to say. There’d be no going back from it. And she still wasn’t sure she was up
to th
at.

‘It’s not as simple as that.’

‘Well, maybe it should be.’

She sighed exasperatedly. ‘Why are you here, Evan? What were you planning to do? Tell David about us?’

‘Of course not. I’m not trying to blackmail you. I just want you have all the facts. To see sense.’

Sarah’s eyes flashed angrily. ‘See sense? What would be sensible about calling off my wedding to my boss two days before it’s supposed to happen? And more importantly, what would be sensible about doing all that for some musician who took a year to realise how he felt about me?’

Evan smarted a bit at the ‘some musician’ comment, but knew better than to mention that it had been an okay job for Sarah’s father. ‘Well, maybe I got that wrong, then. Maybe getting married shouldn’t be sensible. Maybe you should marry me because we’re in love, and we’d have fun, and . . .’

‘Stop it, Evan!’

He sat down next to her, wondering if he should be on one knee instead. ‘Let me ask you one thing. Do you love him?’

‘Why would I have got engaged to him if I didn’t?’

‘That was going to be my next question.’

‘You’re serious, aren’t you? Okay, yes, I love him.’

Evan tried to ignore what felt like a punch in the stomach. ‘How much?’

‘How
much
?’

‘Yes.’

‘I don’t know.’ She rolled her eyes. ‘Enough for him,
apparently
.’

‘Okay. Why?’

‘What do you mean, why?’

‘It’s a simple enough question. What is about David that
you lov
e?’

‘You can just
love
someone. There don’t have to be things.’

‘Yes there do. I know exactly why I love you, for example.’

Sarah opened her mouth, then closed it again, and Evan smiled.

‘Go on,’ he said.

‘What?’

‘You were going to ask me, weren’t you?’

‘No. Yes.’

‘Okay. But you first.’

Sarah folded her arms. ‘Well, he’s kind. And he says he
loves me
.’

‘Just because someone says they love you, it doesn’t mean you have to say it back, like when you say “bless you” because someone’s sneezed.’

‘Maybe I love him
because
he loves me. Did you ever think
of that?
’

‘Well, in that case you must love me, then, because I love you.’

‘No you don’t.’

‘Oh yes I do.’

‘Jesus, Evan. We’re not at the pantomime. You don’t. You’re just in love with the idea of being in love with me.’

‘What does
that
mean?’

Sarah sighed. ‘It fits your romantic notions of being a
musician
.’

‘Romantic notions I thought you shared.’

Sarah glared at him. She’d been determined to talk things through with David first, say what she had to say, give him a chance to state his case, hoping that would help her clarify how she felt, but here, with Evan forcing the issue, she didn’t know how to react.

‘Evan, I just can’t deal with this now. Please. Just go.’

‘Fine.’ He stood up slowly. ‘Just tell me you’re a hundred
percent sur
e that you’re doing the right thing, and you’ll never see me again.’

She reached up and put a hand on his arm, suddenly not wanting him to leave – or at least, not like this. ‘Evan, no-one’s ever a hundred percent sure when it comes to this kind of thing.’

‘I am,’ he said, covering her hand with his.

They stood there for a moment – a moment Evan wanted to last forever – enjoying each other’s touch, Evan mesmerised by the beautiful face gazing up at him, then at the sound of the front door opening, she pulled her hand away, and the moment passed as quickly as it had begun.

‘Only me,’ called David cheerfully, before marching into the lounge. ‘Food will be about fifteen minutes.’ He placed a couple of shopping bags onto the dining table and removed several bottles of wine. ‘Meanwhile, we can get stuck into these.’

‘Apologies, David.’ Evan picked his jacket up from the back of the chair, relieved to see it hadn’t left a mark on the white leather. ‘I don’t think I can stay for dinner after all.’

‘Don’t be ridiculous. I’ve just ordered a takeaway.’

‘I’m sorry.’ Evan reached for his wallet. ‘I’ll give you the money.’

David laughed. ‘That’s hardly what I meant,’ he said, fetching three wine glasses from the cupboard in the corner. Come on, Sarah hasn’t seen you for ages, and now you’re buggering off after five minutes.’

‘It’s not that. I’ve got . . .’

‘. . . chicken tikka masala coming. And enough naan bread to feed a small army.’

Sarah got to her feet. ‘David, don’t make Evan stay if he doesn’t want to,’ she said, and Evan stared at the two of them, realising that this evening might well be the final time he’d ever see Sarah. Plus if he stayed, it would be a last opportunity for Sarah to see him and David together. To make a comparison. And if she didn’t want him after that . . .

He smiled at David, then flung his jacket back down. ‘Why not, then?’ he said.

52

E
van sipped his wine as he forced himself to smile at yet another of David’s banking anecdotes. So far, the evening wasn’t quite going to plan – he’d been prepared to come here and have things out with him, but then Sarah had turned up, and David had made it impossible by behaving like the perfect host. And although he was a little, well,
dull
, Evan had to admit he’d hardly been the life and soul of the party himself.

Sarah, meanwhile, seemed to be in a daze, and while Evan could appreciate how uncomfortable she must be feeling, he knew the evening was about to get a lot more awkward for all of them. Draining the contents of his glass, he steeled himself to steer the conversation round to the stag night, only to see David leap out of his seat as the doorbell rang.

‘Excellent!’ David set his glass down on the coffee table and rubbed his hands together. ‘Food.’

As he headed off to answer the door, Sarah lowered her voice. ‘I’m sorry, Evan. What exactly are you doing here?’

‘You mean this evening? Or generally?’

‘Either.’ She threw her hands up in the air. ‘Both. What the hell made you come back?’

Evan looked at her quizzically. ‘Your announcement.’

‘What announcement?’

‘The one you placed in the paper – sorry,
papers
. The one you obviously wanted me to see.’

‘I didn’t place any announcement.’

‘Well, what’s this, then?’ Evan pulled his wallet out of his back pocket, and removed the slightly worse-for-wear
New York Times
clipping.

‘That’s . . .’ Sarah took it from him. ‘Where did you get this?’

‘It wasn’t exactly easy to miss. And neither were you.’

She ignored his attempt at a compliment. ‘I’ve never seen this before in my life.’

‘You don’t remember placing it?’

‘Of course I don’t remember placing it.’ She stared at the cutting in disbelief. ‘Because I didn’t.’

‘But that means . . .’ He stopped talking suddenly, as David had appeared back in the room, carrying a couple of brown paper bags. A garish yellow sauce was already beginning to leak through one of them, so he placed it on top of an old copy of
The Economist
on the coffee table, but as he unpacked the contents, he frowned.

‘Ah.’

‘What’s the matter?’ said Sarah nervously.

‘They seem to have forgotten Evan’s order.’

‘Oh. Right. Well, I’m not that hungry anyway, so . . .’

‘Don’t worry. We can share.’ David fetched three plates from the sideboard and laid them down on the coffee table, then he caught sight of the clipping. ‘After all, it wouldn’t be the first time.’

Sarah stared at him. ‘Pardon?’

‘It wouldn’t be the first time that I’ve had to share something. With Evan.’

‘What are you talking about?’ Sarah’s voice was wavering, and David rested a hand on her knee.

‘You, darling.’

Her eyes flicked from his hand to his face, trying to read his expression. ‘You . . . knew?’

‘Give me some credit, please.’

‘But . . .’

‘But what?’ David peeled the tops off the takeaway containers and arranged them on the table. ‘Help yourselves, by the way.’

Evan watched the two of them. Almost surreally, David was behaving as if there was nothing amiss, whereas the colour had all but drained from Sarah’s cheeks. And while he felt a strange sense of relief that it was all out in the open, he couldn’t help wondering whether this turn of events would lessen the impact of what he’d been planning to get David to admit.

‘How long have you known?’ said Sarah, quietly.

‘Known?’ David smiled again, although there was no warmth in his expression. ‘I suspected. Of course I did. But it was only after we lost the baby that I was sure.’

‘The . . . baby?’ said Evan, his chest suddenly tightening. The whole miscarriage thing was still raw for him. And for Sarah, he saw, judging by the way she’d flinched.

‘Sarah fell pregnant. About, oh, nine months ago, ironically. She didn’t say?’

Sarah stood up. ‘David, don’t.’

‘Yes,’ said Evan, quietly. ‘She said.’

‘And then she lost it,’ continued David. ‘All very traumatic.
Or fo
r the best. Who knows? But anyway, at the time, given the circumstances – well, what I assumed the circumstances were, at least – I thought I better do the decent thing by getting down on one knee. And blow me, she said yes.’

‘David.’ Sarah was shaking her head, looking at no-one in particular. ‘Stop.’

‘He’s got a right to know.’

Evan was on his feet now too. ‘To know what?’

‘So we thought we’d try again. Tried and tried, in fact – not that I’m complaining, mind you. But we weren’t having any luck. Might have been her fault, of course, but I thought I’d better get myself checked out, just in case. A good excuse to put the old BUPA to some use.’

‘You never said.’ Sarah put a hand on his shoulder, but he removed it politely.

‘Didn’t I? Oh well. But it turned out it
was
me. Extremely low motility, apparently. The upshot was, it didn’t take Sherlock to work out I was unlikely to have got her preggers in the first place.’

Sarah stared at him. ‘But how did you know about . . .’

‘Evan?’ David smiled, but there was no humour behind it. ‘Luckily there’s one woman in my life who’s completely loyal.’

Sarah paled even more. ‘Sally?’

‘I wouldn’t have found out about the club if she hadn’t told me the taxi had dropped you there. Even went there myself one night. Dreadful place. Awful music. But that was apparently because their star attraction had recently left for America. So I – what is it your lot say, sweetheart? –
did the math.
And then it all fell into place.’ He folded his arms. ‘I may have been blind, but I’m not stupid.’

Evan was hardly listening to him. ‘The baby
was
mine?’ He tried to catch Sarah’s eye, but she appeared to be in shock.

‘Apparently.’ David laughed. ‘Assuming she hadn’t been shagging some other poor chap behind
our
backs.’

Evan felt himself tense. ‘Watch what you’re saying,’ he warned, wondering if things would turn nasty. He hadn’t had a fight in years, but he was still pretty sure he could take David. And he was more than prepared to defend Sarah’s honour.

‘So . . . This was down to you?’ Sarah said, tapping the clipping, and David smiled.

‘Guilty as charged,’ he said, spooning rice onto his plate. ‘Cost me a small fortune, but I thought it might smoke him out. And lo and behold, I was right.’

‘But . . . why?’ asked Sarah, though Evan wouldn’t have been
far behin
d her with the same question.

David put his spoon down and looked up at her. ‘I’m no-one’s bloody consolation prize, Sarah. I didn’t want you to marry me if all the while you thought you were settling for second best. That’s why I needed Evan back. To see what your reaction was. To see whether you’d be tempted again. And I can see by your face that you were. Or rather,
are
.’

‘David . . .’

‘Please don’t tell me it didn’t mean anything. Everyone in this room knows that wasn’t the case.’ David put his plate down, then took her hands in his. ‘So,’ he said, easing her gently down onto the sofa. ‘Let me ask you something.’

Sarah’s eyes flicked across at Evan, then she nodded. ‘Sure.’

‘Can you absolutely, categorically, truthfully tell me that there’s not the smallest part of you that looks at him and wonders what might have been?’

‘David.’ Sarah pleaded with him. ‘Don’t ask me that.’

‘Why not?’

When she couldn’t speak, Evan cleared his throat. ‘Because you’re not going to like the answer.’

David ignored him. ‘Just tell me,’ he said calmly.

‘David, everybody can’t help thinking that,’ she said, falteringly. ‘It’s impossible not to . . .’

‘I bloody don’t!’

‘Yes, well, you wouldn’t,’ said Evan. ‘You won the lottery when Sarah agreed to marry you.’

‘Yes, I did, didn’t I? Though it appears that I was playing with your numbers.’

Evan wanted to ask David if that was why he’d still felt the need to buy a Lucky Dip on his stag night, but he bit his tongue.

‘Sarah?’ continued David.

‘What?’

‘You didn’t answer me. Can you?’

Sarah regarded him levelly, then she turned and looked at Evan. ‘No,’ she said, softly. ‘No, I can’t.’

‘Right.’ David let go of her hands and picked his plate back up. ‘Fine. Well, in that case, I forbid you from seeing or speaking to him again.’

‘Pardon?’

‘Ever. Those are my terms.’

‘Your
terms
?’ she said, incredulously.

‘That’s right.’

With a brief shake of her head, Sarah stood up, collected her coat from where she’d thrown it onto the sofa and – with a last pointed look at her wedding dress – marched out of the flat. And as the sound of the door slamming behind her reverberated through the apartment, David turned to Evan.

‘Well, this is a little awkward,’ he said.

And Evan was forced to agree with him.