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shaking
     a little. I see my father’s initials engraved in an elegant script on the flat
     gold discs and remember an evening on the veranda at the house in Lavington: Dad – just
     home from work – sitting with Mum, loosening his tie and taking off his cufflinks, the
     clinking sound they make against the hard surface of the table as the screen-door opens
     and Jamil brings the drinks.
    The memory slips away, blotted out by the
     sounds from the streets. Outside, the city is raucous. Car horns blare. I can hear the
     whine of a scooter, and the crash of something heavy spilling onto the ground. Nairobi
     is at full throttle, vibrating with life and urgency. But in this room, just for a
     moment, the world seems to be holding its breath.
    The package arrived yesterday, a padded
     envelope containing the box and a note:
Wear these on
     your big day, Nico. And be happy. Your brother, Luke.
    Today is my wedding day.
    The door opens. It’s Murphy. He brings
     with him a gust of energy.
    ‘Well, now,’ he says, clapping
     his large hands together and rubbing them briskly. ‘How are we set?’
    ‘Good,’ I say, trying to steady
     myself.
    ‘Here, let me do that.’ Before I
     can protest, he takes the box from my hands. ‘Show me your cuffs.’
    He fixes the cufflinks in place, his fingers
     firm yet gentle despite their size, his brow gathering in a frown of concentration. I
     can’t help thinking that it should be my father here, steadying me. But Dad is
     long dead.
    ‘Not nervous, are you?’ Murphy
     glances at me with his small, shrewd eyes.
    ‘No,’ I say, though I’ve
     felt uneasy since I read Luke’s note.
    ‘Good. You’ve nothing to be
     nervous about. You have your whole life ahead of you.’
    He clasps my shoulder, holds it for a
     moment. I can sense his restless energy. He takes my jacket from the chair-back and
     holds it up for me to slide into.
    ‘We’re in plenty of time, so
     there’s no panic,’ he says.
    Beyond the window, Nairobi’s skyline
     is swathed in mild sunlight. I nod.
    ‘The weather is good,’ Murphy
     says. He means well. And while I’m ready for this day, something is nipping at
     me.
    Murphy has known me long enough to realize
     whensomething’s up, but before he can
     say anything, we hear whistling from the hall. It’s Karl. He flings open the door.
     ‘Hello! Hello!’ In his hand, the box that contains the rings.
    ‘You remembered them,’ I say
     drily.
    He grins and shakes the box next to his ear.
     ‘Would I forget? Come on.’ He closes the door behind him. Karl is small,
     slight and fair. His hair is cropped close to the skull. Already the energy in the room
     has changed. It fizzes with his presence. This morning, he is wearing a blue suit that
     fits neatly, a skinny black tie, and Vans on his feet. His pork-pie hat sits far back on
     his head. He’s clearly made an effort – he looks like he’s even shaved. No
     sooner has he closed the door than he’s fishing for smokes in his pocket. As he
     pops one between his lips, Murphy comes forward to protest.
    ‘None of that now,’ he chides.
     ‘Can’t have the groom turning up stinking of smoke.’
    Karl pretends to be offended, but he does as
     he’s told, not questioning the priest’s authority, not cowed by it
     either.
    ‘Hey, Father Murphy,’ he says,
     his eyes shooting to Murphy’s hairline. ‘I see you’ve been to my
     barber.’
    Murphy laughs. He had until recently sported
     a head of greying but still thick unruly hair that he never seemed able to keep neat. It
     was a shock to see him with stubble. It drew attention to his cheekbones, giving him a
     puritanical air.
    ‘Well, now,’ Murphy says.
     ‘Your parents would be very proud of you today, Nick, making this commitment. I
     know it’s difficult for you not to have them here.’
    My phone rings. Murphy
     seems a little embarrassed at his show of emotion. He reaches for the phone on the
     table, but instead of handing it to