“Don’t tell him all the details,” Lillian said. “It’s bad luck.”

Stuart put his hands over his ears, mimicking the ‘Hear No Evil’ monkey. To him, ballerina length meant a tutu sticking out in a neat little circle around the hips. He doubted that was the sort of outfit Jayne intended but he asked no further questions.

“Have you got your suit?”

“Suit?”

“The suit you’re going to get married in. Have you bought it?”

Stuart hadn’t thought of buying anything new. The suit he’d worn as an usher for both his brothers’ weddings still fitted him and had plenty of wear left in it.

“I was hoping you’d come with me to choose it.” She’d be disappointed if he admitted he hadn’t thought of buying new.

“That’s bad luck as well. I can’t risk it. And you’ll need a best man. At my age I can get away without an entourage of bridesmaids but you have to have a best man. What about one of your brothers?”

He’d assumed getting married would be simple, but now Jayne was producing all these complications, as though in order to win her hand, he had to pass certain tests. He suddenly thought how nice it would be to have Shayne and Eunice involved in the wedding. Shayne looking after the ring and acting as best man and Eunice dressed like a princess to act as bridesmaid. It would do both of them the world of good and send their confidence sky-high. But he couldn’t suggest this.

“Is a best man a legal necessity?”

“It’s not a legal thing but it is sort of expected. And we do want to do this properly, don’t we?”

Lillian’s eyes were flitting between the two of them. “I think Stuart’s not totally in favour,” she pronounced.

Stuart tensed. The old lady might be struggling in some areas of her life but she was amazingly good at picking up on hidden messages.

“No, I am in favour. Now I know what’s expected, I’ll get a new suit and a best man. After all, I’m only going to get married once, aren’t I?”

Jayne leaned forward and kissed him on the cheek. “I told you Stuart was a keeper, didn’t I, Mum?”

The old lady smiled but didn’t look convinced.

Stuart phoned his eldest brother, Robert, that evening, to ask him to be best man. In the absence of close friends, it was the only option but he didn’t have chance to make his request before Robert bounced in with an announcement of his own.

“I’m glad you’ve phoned, kiddo. George and I have been talking and we think it’s best to get the house on the market ASAP in January. That way we might have a buyer ready to complete when you vacate at the end of March. No point in letting these things drag on, is there?”

“Oh!” The wind had been sucked from Stuart’s sails and his news was relegated to the Any Other Business part of the conversation — the part of the agenda where Stuart was always placed.

“Obviously, we’ll give you warning before the men with their clipboards and tape measures arrive, but I thought a heads-up now would mean no nasty surprises and a shipshape house. Might be worth you getting a window cleaner in and tidying the garden. All the stuff that creates that vital first impression — as they say, you never get a second chance with first impressions, do you?” Robert chortled and Stuart could sense the conversation was coming to an end.

“There was something I wanted to ask you.” Nerves suddenly constricted his throat. “Would you be my best man? Please.” He kicked himself for adding the ‘please’, it made him sound desperate.

“Best man! Cindy! Kiddo is getting married!”

Stuart cringed as he listened to footsteps and muffled voices. He wished he’d suffered Jayne’s wrath and got married without a best man.

“Congratulations!” Cindy’s voice shouted a little way from the phone. “I really am genuinely pleased for you.”

“I’d be delighted.” Robert’s voice cut over his wife’s. “Who’s the victim — I mean, lucky lady?”

“Jayne, from next door.”

“Wonderful. A second bite of the cherry, if you get my drift.”

Stuart forced the conversation to a close by giving the date and time. At least Jayne would be happy now.

The next morning’s club ride was bitterly cold and it was a smaller than usual turnout. Guiltily Stuart realised he was glad Mike wasn’t there. Mike always wanted a progress report on how Jayne was doing with Mavis’s old bike and Stuart always had to give a fudged reply. The truth was that Jayne showed no interest in improving her cycling ability or anything else that was even slightly outside her comfort zone.

Following her birthday, they’d had one more trip to the quarry but the weather had turned showery and she’d insisted they cut it short. After that, combining their individual time off work with the day-centre session made it difficult to get out during the week, and at weekends Jayne wouldn’t leave Lillian. Stuart suspected that time could have been engineered if Jayne had really wanted.