Page 11 of The Spare

Oh my fucking God.

I watch his lovely mouth, because I can’t look him in the eye.

‘So, tell me, Slinks,’ he says, his fingers moving over my skin, ‘what’s it going to be?’

CHAPTER 5

Benedict

New Year’s Eve.

D-Day, even.

Although no one is storming the beaches to come and bail me out, that’s for sure.

My brother stands before me and slaps me on the cheeks. He’s shared a champagne toast with me and our great mate Pieter, his—now my—best man, but I can tell he’s itching to get on the road to London and track Ivy down. He hasn’t spoken to her since they went their separate ways before Christmas, and I know he’s desperate to go to her. Pulling out of his own wedding was the big, brave move. I’m hoping Ivy accepts him with open arms once she knows what he’s been willing to do for her. Alas for him, she blocked his number after they said goodbye, which has only added to his anxiety.

‘I can never repay you,’ he tells me, his hands framing my jaw. ‘Never.’

I shoot him my cockiest smile. ‘Luckily, you don’t have to. I’m repaying you, remember?’

I’m referring, of course, to the time he saved my life when we were little boys, dragging me out of Belvedere’s lake when I went under and got tangled in the blasted reeds. The reference isn’t lost on him, because he frowns.

‘I’m serious, Ben.’

‘So am I. I’ll be fine. Looking forward to my wedding night already.’ I give him a wink, and he shakes his head in amused disbelief.

‘There’s no way Selena will put out this quickly. I’d rein your expectations right in.’

My expectations, as it happens, are as low as can be. I know there’s no question at all of my bride putting out tonight. I may be a cocky fucker, but even I can’t expect Slinky to want to shag me tonight when she was gearing up to marry my brother less than a week ago. Still, I can’t resist ribbing him. ‘Maybe not for you, but for me, she will. Now go on, get out of here. Go get your girl.’

He gets me in a headlock and hugs me hard. We stand there for a moment, our arms around each other, before he plants a smacker on my cheek. Our parents may leave a lot to be desired, but I have the best fucking brother and sister in all the land. It’s about time Xav followed his heart and not the rule book Ma and Pa laid out for him so long ago.

‘Seriously,’ he says, releasing me. ‘Thank you.’

His face has gone red. I think he might cry. This is all getting a little too real. I’m far too sober for this level of emotional earnestness. ‘You can thank me by not fucking this up,’ I tell him, waving him away. ‘Now, clear off.’

Pieter raises a blond eyebrow at me once he’s left. ‘How are you doing?’

The van Praag brothers were at Eton with us and boast a heritage stretching back to the days when the Netherlands were a part of the Burgundian Empire, Pieter’s ancestors having fought alongside Charles V in his attempts to sequester most of Europe. Pieter was in Xav’s year at school, but the three of us were in the same house. Our friendship has endured, helped, no doubt, by the infinite funds on both sides that have allowed us to fuck our way around the Med every summer.

I should say that Pieter and I did the majority of the fucking. My brother was more discreet in his endeavours, out of respect for his high-profile engagement.

A high-profile engagement that is now my secret one.

I take Pieter’s question for what it is: a genuine inquiry into my state of mind. He’s concerned, and he should be, I suppose. I’m not known for my impulse control, but only a nutter would pull a stunt like this.

I tell him the truth: ‘I’m trying not to think about it too much.’

‘Ah, yes.’ He nods sagely. ‘Abject denial. Excellent plan.’

‘Got any better ideas?’

‘Yeah. Run for the hills.’

‘Not happening. I’ve made my bed—now I have to go lie in it, even if my bride won’t want to lie in it with me anytime soon.’

I attempt a laugh. The truth is, the last few days have been rough. I’ve kept up a brave face for Xav, but I’ve been struggling with the enormity of what I’ve seemingly taken on. The initial part was fun: the knowledge that I was doing the right thing by Xav; the warm glow of Ma and Pa’s approval; the endorphin rush of pulling off a crazy stunt. But now, as the adrenaline has faded and reality has seeped in like a cold, ominous mist through an open window, I can’t shake the feeling that my decision to save the day in a single swoop was rash at best and catastrophic at worst.