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“I mean they haven’t, you know, consummated it yet,” I explain as quietly as I can. “So technically that means they could still get a legal annulment. The marriage would never have existed.”

“Really?” I can see a glimmer of hope rising on Richard’s face.Advertisement

“Why haven’t they consummated it?” says Lorcan incredulously. “And how do you know?”

“She’s my sister. We tell each other everything. And as for why …” I clear my throat evasively. “It’s simply bad luck. The hotel messed up with the beds. Ben got drunk. That kind of thing.”

“Too much information,” says Lorcan, and starts putting his papers away in his briefcase.

Richard says nothing. His brow is furrowed and he appears to be taking this all in. At last he sinks down on the seat next to me and savagely screws his boxer shorts into a ball. I watch him, still feeling disbelief that he’s here at all.

“Richard,” I say at last. “You know the phrase ‘Too little, too late’? Well, you’re more like ‘Too much, too late.’ Flying halfway across the world. Rushing to the airport. Making romantic speeches all over the place. Why didn’t you do any of this before?”

Richard doesn’t answer the question but stares at me glumly. “You think I’m too late?”

That’s a question I don’t want to answer.

“It’s just an expression,” I say after a pause. “Come on.” I pat him reassuringly on the shoulder. “We’re boarding.”

About half an hour into the flight, Richard comes up to the front, where Noah and I are sitting in a row of three in club class. I haul Noah onto my lap and Richard slides in next to me.

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“How tall would you say this Ben is?” he says with no preamble.

“Don’t know. I’ve never met him.”

“But you’ve seen pictures. Would you say … five eight? Five nine?”

“I don’t know.”

“I’d say five nine. Definitely shorter than me,” Richard adds, with a grim satisfaction.

“Well, that’s not hard,” I point out. Richard is at least six foot two.

“Never thought Lottie would go for a short-arse.”

I have no reply to make to this, so I roll my eyes and carry on reading the airline magazine.

“I looked him up.” Richard mashes an airsick bag between his fingers. “He’s a multimillionaire. Owns a paper company.”

“Mmm. I know.”

“I tried to find out if he’s got a private jet. It didn’t say. Expect he has.”

“Richard, stop torturing yourself.” I finally turn to him. “It’s not about private jets. Or height. There’s no point comparing yourself to him.”

Richard looks at me for a few silent seconds. Then, as though I hadn’t even spoken, he says, “Have you seen his house? They used it for Highton Hall. He’s a multimillionaire and he’s got a stately home.” He scowls. “Bastard.”

“Richard—”

“But he’s pretty puny, don’t you think?” He’s tearing the airsick bag into strips. “Never thought Lottie would go for someone so puny.”

“Richard, stop it!” I exclaim in exasperation. If he’s going to go on like this the whole journey, I’ll go mad.

“Is this our special guest?” A sugary voice interrupts us, and we look up to see an air hostess with a French plait, bearing down on us with a wide smile. She’s holding a teddy bear, an airline wallet, some lollipops, and a huge box of Ferrero Rocher chocolates. “Cheryl told us all about you,” she addresses Noah brightly. “I’ve got some special gifts for you here.”

“Cool! Thank you!” Noah grabs the presents before I can stop him and gasps, “Mummy, look! A big box of Ferrero Rocher chocolates! You can get them!”

“Thanks,” I say awkwardly. “That’s really unnecessary.”

“It’s the least we can do!” the air hostess assures me. “And is this the famous uncle?” She bats her eyelashes at Richard, who stares back with a blank frown.

“My uncle can speak three languages,” says Noah proudly. “Uncle Richard, talk Japanese!”

“A surgeon and a linguist?” The air hostess opens her eyes wide, and I dig my fingers into Richard’s hand before he can protest. I don’t want Noah mortified in public.

“That’s right!” I say quickly. “He’s a very talented man. Thanks so much.” I smile at the air hostess fixedly till she leaves, after a final pat on the head for Noah. pqdm.com