The Irresistible Inheritance Of Wilberforce by Paul Torday

fun in my life; I’m not sure she had known much fun either since she had become engaged to Ed Simmonds.
    We went on holiday not long after Catherine told her parents she wasn’t going to marry Ed, just to give everyone time to get used to the idea, and to take ourselves out of the way for a while. We went to India for three weeks. It was all arranged by Catherine. I wouldn’t have had any idea where to go, or how to get there. I was happy just to write the cheques and leave the organisation to Catherine.
    ‘It will be a sort of practice honeymoon,’ she told me.
    But people didn’t get used to the idea of her broken engagement with Ed. Catherine’s parents told her they would disinherit her if she married me; they certainly had no intention of coming to the wedding.
    To my surprise, my foster-mother Mary showed some resistance to the idea as well: ‘She sounds very nice dear,’ she said, when I told her that Catherine and I were to be married. ‘But I don’t think I can come to the wedding. It really isn’t fair to the poor young man she was engaged to.’
    ‘But you didn’t know the poor young man,’ I said to her in exasperation. ‘What does it matter? Catherine’s going to marry me. She hasn’t run away from him; she never married him; she’s just changed her mind.’
    ‘Well, I don’t really think people should change their mind,’ said Mary. I gave up. Why should I care what my foster-mother thought? I couldn’t recall her ever showing much interest in my thoughts and feelings.
    The only person who didn’t throw us over was Eck Chetwode-Talbot, Francis’s godson. Eck had left the army quite a few years ago, but he still carried himself as if he was on parade: very upright and brisk in his movements. He came to Caerlyon for a drink soon after the news broke. Catherine was upstairs in Francis’s flat and I was in what had been the shop, which I now used as an office.
    ‘Where’s Catherine?’ he asked, as he settled into a chair. I opened a bottle of white wine, handed him a glass and said, ‘She’s upstairs, getting changed. We’ve been moving my furniture in from my flat.’
    ‘And you’re both well? No sign of Simmonds sending around a death squad? How are the Plenders taking it all?’
    ‘We’re not on speaking terms, I’m afraid. I’m glad you’re still speaking to us. You’re about the only one who is.’
    Eck laughed. ‘I think the whole thing’s absolutely marvellous. There was a distinct shortage of gossip until Catherine ran off with you. Now everybody has something to talk about. In fact, they won’t talk about anything else. And if the Plenders won’t speak to you, it’s a win double. You get the daughter without having to take the mother-in-law on board as well. You don’t know how lucky you are.’
    I shook my head. I disliked the idea that ‘they’ were all talking about Catherine and me. ‘Eck,’ I asked, ‘are you going to drop us as well?’
    ‘Not at all. Why should I? I was very fond of old Francis and I know for a fact that he longed for you and Catherine to get together. A sort of paternal thing with him, I think. He quite liked Ed for his father’s sake. He used to see a bit of Simon Hartlepool when Simon still saw people. But he adored Catherine. All the people Francis really liked were our age. He never seemed to want to mix with his own generation. Anyway, I’m sure he never wanted Catherine to get married to Ed.’
    ‘I know,’ I agreed; ‘he said that to me once or twice.’
    ‘That’s the trouble with being a bachelor,’ Eck went on: ‘you develop an excess of unsatisfied paternal instinct. You adopt the young. Then you start to want to rearrange their lives. In Francis’s case, he adopted Catherine first, and then you, for quite different reasons, I should think.’
    ‘Did he adopt you?’ I asked.
    ‘God, no. Francis saw through me from day one. He never minded having me around, but one complete waster can always spot