unofficial staffer in his own mind, felt left out in the cold.
“Two scoops,” he sputtered. “Two, and no scraps for a friend?”
“This was over my head, mate,” Nick said, handing him an apologetic lager across the dining table at Kensington.
“Not even a hint, mate?” he asked. “I thought we were scratching each other’s backs.”
“Marj gave you the polo bit, though,” Nick said earnestly. “You broke that. Caused a total stir. That had to have helped, yeah?”
“That was ages ago, Nick, and a trifle compared to this,” Clive said. “I’ve done nothing but support you. I buried India sneaking out of Clarence House. I could’ve dined out on that, but I didn’t want to, not at your expense. I’ve never once said any of what I know. About anything. Or anyone.” He gave me a very brief but pointed look. “But no one will take me seriously if they think you lot don’t, and by freezing me out, that’s exactly what you’re suggesting.”
“I’m so sorry, Clive,” Nick said, distressed. “These were bigger than I am. It comes from the top.”
“What about going forward? A wedding date, the honeymoon, the dress designer?” Clive asked, his face taking on a desperate sheen.
Nick spread his hand helplessly. “I can ask, but I can’t promise,” he said. “It’s a delicate balance with the various papers, and there’s a protocol Marj follows. I know it’s my wedding, but it simply isn’t my show.”
“But someday it will be…?”
“Right, yeah,” Nick said, and maybe he meant it, but to me it sounded like he wasn’t completely comfortable with this negotiation.
I fretted about that to Cilla about a week later. We were in the airy dining room of her and Gaz’s rented townhouse and home office, on a picturesque street called Hans Crescent that ran around the back side of Harrods—chosen because Gaz thought it made him look desirable if one could shop for his legal help and a diamond-encrusted nine-iron in the same block.
“I get worried that Clive is relying on us for big boosts that we can’t give him, you know?” I said as Cilla bustled around her kitchen.
“Clive will get over it,” Cilla promised, setting down a plate of tea sandwiches, the crusts neatly cut off. “The Fitzwilliams have been loyal friends to Nick’s family longer than Clive’s been alive.” She slid me a cup of tea and a sugar dish. “How are you?”
“I’m not sure,” I told her honestly. “Ever since Nick and I got back together it’s been this rush of happiness and activity, but as soon as I slow down I get sad again. About Dad, about Emma…” I looked down at my ring. “I know she’s still here, but not the way Nick wishes she was.”
“I can’t believe he kept that to himself for so long,” Cilla said. “When did he finally tell you?”
“A few years ago,” I said. “I don’t think he’d ever said it out loud before. He went so pale.”
“No wonder he was always so sensitive.” Cilla sighed, dropping a sugar cube into her tea.
“He is a lot lighter now,” I said. “I wish they’d done it years ago.”
The film of sadness that covered Nick might never wholly disappear, but it did diminish. He talked about Emma more. His insomnia had ebbed. And, perhaps because he was finally rested, he even relaxed about the press. And then just as quickly as the tide turned in him, he rode it out of town: His Navy frigate, HMS Cleveland, deployed that January just two weeks after the Emma interview did. It was hard not having him around in those euphoric days when all we wanted was to be privately obnoxious about calling ourselves affianced, and it meant that I was left alone to find my footing.
I was telling a very sympathetic Cilla this when Joss blew into the flat like a tornado. She’d missed two buttons on her shirt, and mascara had run all over her face.
“It’s over,” she wailed, flinging herself into a chair with such force that Cilla’s tea spilled. “The store. It’s gone. It’s all gone.”
The bigger surprise was that Soj had lasted this long. But as foolhardy an enterprise as it seemed, Joss never saw it as a passing fad. In fact, her design aspirations may have been the only real constant in her life, especially because her impatient parents—whom she saw as faithless—had essentially closed her out of theirs.
“I knew we were losing money, but I didn’t realize it was that bad.” She sniffled. “I told