He feared the light of recognition in Jacki's eyes. That she'd drop her fork, clattering on the edge of her white dinner plate, and the table would fall silent and heads would turn and that would be the end of it all.
Nathan forced down his starter, then bolted a glass of wine. Steph leaned over to top him up. He thanked her. He could feel the wine, cold in his guts. He wanted a cigarette, but nobody was smoking.
Finally, a waiter arrived to clear the first course. Jacki produced a pack of Silk Cut, dumping them on the table like a deck of cards. In relief, Nathan reached into his own pocket.
Jacki looked round the table. 'Nobody else smoking?'
She half stood, grabbing Nathan's hand.
'Then it's the perfect opportunity to give my warning speech to the groom.'
Nathan allowed himself to be dragged outside. Martin made a loud and witless joke about handcuffs and going quietly. Nathan looked pleadingly over his shoulder. The table laughed.
Outside, Nathan and Jacki stood beneath a lamp post. Drizzle swarmed like midges in its yellow light.
Jacki lit a Silk Cut, offered the pack to him. He thanked her, said no thanks, took one of his own.
She blew a long plume of smoke and said, 'She doesn't know, does she?'
A car went past. Nathan followed its progress.
'No.'
'What did you think you were playing at?'
'I didn't know.'
'Ha.'
'She never talked about it. And by the time she did, by the time she told me, it was too late.'
'You have to tell her.'
'Tell her what? That, along with about a million other people, I was at the same party as her sister?'
'The night she disappeared, yeah. And that you knew the suspect.'
'It was his party. I was employed by him. I hated his guts. And he was never even charged.'
They fell silent and stepped aside, allowing two lovers to pass huddled together, heads down in the rain.
'She's got a right to know.'
'It would break her heart.'
Jacki glared at him, defiant.
'Look,' said Nathan. 'For Christ's sake, she's happy. What else matters?'
'Yeah,' said Jacki. 'Well.'
'I know you care for her.'
'I've known her since she was eleven. Don't talk to me about caring for her.'
'Okay. I haven't known her as long as you have. But Jesus. Please.
Come on.'
'Jesus,' said Jacki, and shook her head.
'Come on,' said Nathan. 'Please.'
Jacki made a face. He thought she was about to spit. She threw down the stub of her cigarette and watched it bob in the gutter.
'I hadn't seen Holly for years. Not since we left school. But it was me she came to, when Elise didn't come home. It was me she came to, because we were friends. I made her a promise. Do you understand that?'
'Of course. Of course I do.'
'I won't let you hurt her.'
'I don't intend to.'
'If you're not on the level, I'll fucking have you. I'll cut your cock off 'But it's the last thing in the world--'
'It had better be. Is what I'm saying.'
He said, 'Trust me. Come on.'
Back inside, nobody seemed to notice how long they'd been gone.
Nathan drank two glasses of wine in quick succession. He and Jacki avoided eye contact, like guilty lovers.
The friends around the table had known each other for many years; the anecdotes were polished smooth with use, the language full of private references and arcane in-jokes. Early attempts to include Nathan fell away with the drink -- everybody, Holly included, grew weary of explaining everything to him.
He barely noticed. But when the evening ended and the bill was paid and the coffees were drunk and everyone was gathering their coats and bags and calling taxis, Jacki made a show of hugging him.
She planted a kiss on his cheek and told him -- perhaps too stridently -- how pleased she was for both of them, that she wished them every happiness in the world. That nobody deserved it more than Holly.
He thanked her. She tottered downstairs, to her waiting taxi.
Nathan and Holly sat alone at the table. Holly looked flushed and happy. Nathan was drunk. Acid spit in his gut. Holly asked him for a cigarette, her first since their aborted date.
'Are you sure?'
She moved her hand like somebody winding up a poor comedian.
He passed her a cigarette.
He said, 'Are you okay?'
Deep dimples at the corners of her mouth.
'I'm happy.'
'Good,' he said. 'That's all that matters.' And it was true.
They married in September, at the small Norman church in Sutton Down. Nathan invited a few guests, all of them colleagues.
They were mixed in with Holly's apparently vast network of friends, relations and neighbours. Holly wore white. As she progressed down the aisle in satin heels, there were some tears from her cousins, her aunties, her old primary school teacher.
At the reception, having raised a toast to his daughter, Graham remained standing. He rode out the guests' slight befuddlement, waiting for them to sit and grow still. Then he said, 'Now, this isn't the normal order of things. And - as many of you gathered here will know - usually I'm a stickler for order.'
He paused for laughter - a fond ripple of it.
'But June and I wanted to take this opportunity to say that a few months ago -- a very few months . . .'
More laughter.
'Nathan blew into our lives a bit like a whirlwind. And the truth is, as many of you will also know, perhaps we needed a little whirlwind in our lives.'
And now there was no laughter. Just silence.
'This young man didn't just win my daughter's heart, but my heart, and June's heart too - for the life he brought into our home.
And for that, we'd like to thank him. So: to Nathan.'
They drank a toast while Nathan sat proud and terrified at the top table.
When the time came to give his own speech, he paused to gather himself and for a while could not speak. There were more tears at that, and some laughter.
When Nathan sat, Holly gripped his hand and Jacki came round to hug him from behind. She crossed her arms across his chest and squeezed, hard.
Holly had insisted on one more toast. She stood, raising her glass, saying: 'We all know there's a guest missing today. Since we were tiny, Elise and I talked about this day. We talked about what we'd wear, which pop star we'd marry. She was pretty stuck on George Michael, I seem to remember. That is, when she agreed to marry a boy at all; she was mostly interested in the dress and walking down the aisle with her beloved dad. She thought having a boy there would spoil it.'
Graham was looking at the table, smiling.
'But Elise is here. I can tell she approves of the boy I decided to marry -- even though he's not a pop star.' She had to pause. 'And I can feel her, being all impatient for the disco to start. By now, she'd want to get her kitten heels off and her Doc Martens on. So I'd like you please to stand, and charge your glasses. Please join me in toasting my dear sister -- Elise.'
Two hundred people stood and raised their glasses. They said her name, and sounded like the ocean.
Their first dance was to Van Morrison - 'Brown Eyed Girl'.
Later, Nathan hoped that nobody heard him, sobbing in the toilets.
In a hotel room in Barbados, he undressed her for the first time.
Nathan had been celibate for five years. He and Holly had never slept in the same bed.
He woke in the tropical night to find her propped on an elbow, looking down at him in the darkness, her eyes unreadable.
He said,'What?'
'You know what.'
He kissed the softness of her belly.
"Me too.'
She twirled an index finger through his bed-addled hair.
He wrapped an arm around her warm and naked waist.
She closed her eyes and smiled, drifting to sleep.