Page 87 of The Best of Times

“What about giving Granny away?” his father said hurriedly, “At least say yes to that.”

Aron squeezed his father’s arm. “I’d love to.”

“That’s great news. Let’s go and tell the others.”

Just as he picked up the tray, the doorbell rang.

“It’s like Piccadilly Circus in here,” Aron grumbled. “Go on up. I’ll get it.”

Cramming a smoked salmon blini in his mouth, he bounded down the hallway. Ready to fend off another member of the Beatrice Wimpole fan club. Alexander had snuck through. He wasn’t going to let any of the others in.

He opened the door to find Paul staring back at him. Aron gasped, instantly choking on the blini. He bent over, coughing uncontrollably.

“Are you okay?” Paul asked.

Aron gestured wildly at his throat. Paul instantly came up behind him and wrapped his arms around Aron’s torso. With three quick hard jolts, the blini came free and shot onto the pavement.

Aron held onto the metal fence for a second. His eyes were streaming and his throat was burning.

“Did I just save your life?” Paul asked.

Aron snapped upright. “You nearly cost me it, you idiot. What are you doing here?”

Paul’s face clouded over.

“I thought we should clear the air before the ceremony.”

“You pick your moments,” Aron said. “Do you have the house bugged and swoop in whenever we’re having a nice time?”

Nihal Varma and Carl Carrington passed them by.

“All well in HQ?” Nihal shouted across.

“Getting there,” Aron replied with a smile.

“Can we talk somewhere more private?” Paul asked. “Let me say my piece and then I’ll leave you alone. I promise.”

“Fine. Come on.”

With his heart racing, part at the near-death experience and part wondering what the hell Paul had to say now, Aron led him into the house. He took him all the way up to his bedroom. It was their only chance at getting any peace. Especially with Granny’s glam squad taking up most of the house.

When they got up the two flights of stairs, he sat down on the end of the bed and gestured for Paul to take the armchair in the window.

“Go on then,” Aron said.

“I’m flying to Sydney tomorrow for work. I thought you should know now in case I don’t get a chance at the wedding.”

Stunned wasn’t a strong enough word for what Aron was experiencing at that moment.

So he’s not coming to tell me how wrong he was and to fall into my arms then.

“Yes, I can see how you would struggle with finding me. Seeing as we’re on the same table for the reception.”

Paul shifted. “I’m hardly going to announce it to everyone before I had a chance to speak to you.”

“I suppose I should be grateful that you’re actually telling me this time. We really are making progress.”

Paul got up. “I don’t want to part on bad terms. I’m still coming back to London so we’re bound to bump into each other.”