It was a beautifully clear day, with an azure sky and a light breeze to keep the air fresh.Llewellyn was round the flat early already dressed in his wedding suit. He chivvied Rafferty into getting showered and having some breakfast.‘You’re like an old mother hen,’ Rafferty complained. ‘There’s plenty of time.’‘Someone’s got to make sure the day goes smoothly and as I’m best man, that’s my job.’‘I suppose so. You’re doing a good job so far. Better keep it up. Abra will be upset if anything goes wrong.’‘I know. And she’ll blame me.’‘I doubt it. She’s more likely to blame me.’‘Well, let’s make sure there’s no blame to be attached to either of us,’ said Llewellyn. ‘I think you should shower and get into your wedding suit now. We don’t want to be late.’‘Yes, sir.’ Rafferty went off to the bathroom, wiping toast crumbs from his mouth on the way. The phone rang while he was in there and, worried that it was Abra telling him the wedding was off, he hurried through his ablutions and, half-dried, he hurried back to the living room.
