marry Henry?’ Jonny poured the wine and got stuck straight into his intended topic of conversation.
Marla spluttered as she unwound her Missoni scarf. ‘Excuse me?’
Emily shifted cagily in her seat and turned anxious eyes on Marla. ‘Do you want to?’
‘I …’ Marla flailed around for the right words. Her sense of loyalty insisted that Rupert really ought to be first to hear that there wasn’t going to be a wedding.
‘See? Told you! She didn’t jump straight in there with a big fat “yes”, did she?’
Jonny wagged his finger, clearly something else he’d learned from his many hours dedicated to watching Oprah. He stopped just short of adding ‘girrlfreeend’ on the end of his sentence, but then he was still warming up.
Marla fixed him with a measured stare.
‘Just quit it with the inquisition, will you? I’m fine.’
Jonny took a leisurely sip of his wine and ignored her plea. ‘I asked you a question this morning.’
Emily looked at Jonny non plussed as Marla shrugged non-committally.
‘Did you?’
‘I asked you if you loved Rupert.’
Emily’s head swivelled back to Marla, agog.
‘So?’ Marla folded her arms across her chest and glared at Jonny squarely across the table.
‘So, do you?’
The weight of both of their expectant stares proved too heavy. Marla slumped, elbows on the table and her face buried in her hands.
‘No. I’m fond of him, but I don’t love him. And no, I don’t want to marry him, either.’
Jonny rubbed her back, immediately contrite.
‘Poor baby, I knew it.’ He shot a pained look of horror over her head at Emily.
‘You have to tell him it’s off, darling, and sooner rather than later,’ Jonny advised, making Marla howl behind her fingers.
‘But why did you say yes?’ Emily whispered, fishing a tissue out of her massive tote bag and pushing it into Marla’s hands.
Marla lifted her head and ripped the tissue slowly into ribbons.
‘Did I? You were there. Did I actually say yes?’
Jonny and Emily exchanged troubled glances.
‘It sort of looked like you did, yeah. You nodded, and then you burst into tears,’ Emily said.
‘I nodded. You’re sure?’
‘’Fraid you did, sugar,’ Jonny confirmed.
‘And to think I thought it was all so romantic,’ Emily marvelled with wide eyes. ‘Are you sure? That you don’t love him, I mean?’
Marla took a good slug of wine and nodded.
‘He’s fun company and he makes me laugh. We have a good time together.’
She balled the shredded tissue up.
Emily’s face said all Marla needed to know.
‘He doesn’t make your heart miss a beat when he looks at you?’ Emily asked. ‘He doesn’t make you melt?’
Marla smiled sadly and patted Emily’s hand. ‘We can’t all be as lucky as you, Em.’
She registered the shadow that passed across her friend’s eyes.
‘Well, that’s that then. You can’t marry him if you don’t love him.’ Emily placed her other hand over Marla’s. ‘Marriage is hard enough when you do love each other, so it’d be a complete disaster if you don’t.’
‘Is everything okay with you and Tom?’ Marla asked, partly out of concern and partly because she badly wanted to change the subject.
Emily batted the question away with a wave of her hand. ‘We’re fine. Ignore me. It’s just hormones.’
Marla debated for a second before reaching for her handbag. She pulled out her diary, and extricated the note she’d found on Gabe’s desk from between its pages. Jonny and Emily stared at the innocuous little envelope in silence as Marla slid it towards the centre of the table.
‘There’s this, too.’
‘What is it?’ Emily asked.
‘It’s a note I never received.’
Marla took the card out of its envelope and passed it to Emily who, clearly confused, read it with a frown then handed it on to Jonny.
‘I found it by accident on Gabe’s desk the night that Bluey died,’ Marla said quietly.
‘I don’t understand …’ Emily shrugged, her face a picture of frustration.
‘No? Well I bloody do!’ Jonny burst out as he slammed the card down on the table a few seconds later. Marla chewed her lip and waited in silence to see if Jonny’s conclusion tallied with her own.
‘I knew that jumped-up twatbag couldn’t have come up with anything so thoughtful on his own!’
‘Tell me what’s going on!’ Emily hissed at them.
Marla placed a hand on Jonny’s arm to stop him from shouting again, then turned to Emily.
‘I think the note should have been attached to the fireworks.’
‘But Rupert gave you the firewo— Oh my god!’
Emily’s mouth dropped into a perfect ‘O’ as realisation dawned.
Jonny drummed his fingers on the tabletop in an attempt to control his temper.