Three weeks out, she had noticed Richard on the phone in the back garden. He had drifted further from the window when he saw her watching—a small thing, but unusual for a man who had no real habit of privacy. When she asked who it was, he said he was just sorting something and moved the conversation on without difficulty. She had let it go.
A week before the wedding, Richard took an unexplained trip to the city. He was gone half the day and came back quiet and thoughtful, kissed her forehead at the door and said it had been a good day. His eyes had the look of a man who had been moved by something he wasn’t yet ready to put into words. She noticed it but said nothing.