Echoes of Grace

by Caragh Bell

  ‘Oh, no.’ She blushed. ‘As I’ve said a million times, he has a party in Chelsea tonight. I hardly think that he’ll come all the way down here.’

  Laura smiled and said nothing. She had seen the way Justin looked at Aurora. Anyone could see that he was smitten. Sure, he might have the best intentions at work: no romantic involvement. However, men in social situations tended to forget. Throw lots of alcohol into the mix and she could see Justin making a move quite easily.

  ‘Crack open the Calvados, Henry old boy!’ boomed Gordon, who’d had far too much brandy already. ‘That stuff should warm the gullet.’

  James, who had just arrived into the room, waved his hands in protest. ‘God, Henry, don’t. That stuff nearly killed me at Christmas.’ He winked at Aurora. ‘It made me lose that chess game.’

  She made a face.

  Henry smiled. ‘It’s extremely strong. I have a farmer near Deauville who has been supplying me for forty years. It comes in a barrel and should be consumed with caution.’

  ‘What is it?’ asked Ophelia, confused.

  ‘An apple brandy,’ explained Aurora. ‘When I was a child, Maggie would mix it with cream and serve it with her apple pie at dinner parties.’

  Gordon clapped his hands together loudly. ‘Righty-oh. No more procrastination. Let’s find that barrel.’

  The evening flew by. In no time at all, it was quarter to twelve.

  Ophelia nudged Aurora in excitement. ‘You’re almost twenty-three! Are you excited?’

  She shrugged. ‘I don’t pay much heed to birthdays, Lia. They’re always a bittersweet affair, with my mother and all.’

  ‘Oh, sorry.’ Her friend’s hand flew to her mouth. ‘I didn’t think.’

  Aurora laughed. ‘Don’t be sorry at all. That was all so long ago. Come on, let’s position ourselves near the champagne before Gordon drinks the lot.’

  Her uncle was practising ‘Auld Lang Syne’ in the corner with William. It had become an annual duet, much to the family’s chagrin. Neither was blessed with much musical talent. Despite this, they got the crowd going and after a few minutes the combined melody of voices drowned out their slightly off-key offering.

  Aurora didn’t notice him come in. She was too busy talking to Betsy Smith, a girl she played hockey with at school.

  ‘Happy birthday, Mrs. Sloane,’ he said in his deep voice.

  She swung around and gasped. There, standing in front of her, was Justin Debussy. He looked gorgeous in a duck-egg-blue shirt, slightly open at the neck, and navy pants that clung to his narrow hips. His blond hair was slightly tousled and his eyes stared at her intensely.

  ‘Justin!’ She threw her arms around his neck and hugged him close. Not accustomed to drinking wine, she was extremely tipsy. The sight of him made her excited and happy, so hugging him was the natural thing to do.

  He reciprocated and kissed her hair. ‘You smell so good,’ he murmured, pulling away.

  ‘Why did you forsake your A-list party to come here?’ she asked, wide-eyed. ‘I thought your uncle had invited Elton John?’

  ‘It was cool,’ he said shrugging, ‘but Bertie started playing piano and soon it turned into a singsong from the seventies.’ He grimaced. ‘I made my excuses and left.’

  ‘You’re so good to come,’ she said shyly. ‘I’m really flattered.’

  He stared at her for a moment. ‘Well, I had to make an effort for my favourite, didn’t I?’

  She blushed again, her pale skin turning red.

  ‘Drink?’ offered Ophelia, handing him an empty glass. ‘There’s a makeshift bar in the corner so help yourself.’ She attempted to hide her dislike. She and Justin had met years before at an audition and he had been scathing in his critique. Now, she avoided him whenever possible, delighted that Aurora didn’t mix with him socially. In her opinion, he was an overindulged spoilt brat who had an ego the size of Africa.

  Justin nodded. ‘How are you, Cordelia? Any luck with roles?’

  ‘It’s Ophelia,’ she corrected coldly. ‘Not at the moment, no.’ She backed away. ‘As I said, help yourself.’

  Justin already had had lots to drink and headed straight for the whiskey.

  Henry appeared as he was filling his glass and thumped him on the back, congratulating him on his success. Aurora watched them together: two playwrights at different stages of their careers. She knew that Henry would approve if she brought Justin home. He had hinted at it often enough. In her tipsy state, she couldn’t really remember why she thought it was a bad idea. He was young, fit and good-looking. Sure, he was her director but couples worked together all the time. She was just tired of being on her own. She wanted love: someone to come along and sweep her off her feet. Her gaze wandered over to James. He was texting someone on his phone, his brows furrowed in concentration. He was getting married and was even talking about kids. Everyone was moving on. Her own mother was nearly married at her age. Not quite, but almost.

  Laura sidled up beside her and poked her in the ribs. ‘I saw lover boy making a beeline for you the minute he arrived.’

  ‘Oh stop it. I’m one of the few people he knows here.’ She gulped her wine and coughed. ‘Anyway, as I’ve said a thousand times before, we’re work colleagues.’

  ‘Yeah, right.’ Laura cut her off. ‘He wants you, anyone can see it. I bet you ten pounds he’ll make a move when the clock strikes twelve.’

  ‘I’m not bloody Cinderella.’

  ‘Ten pounds, little sis.’ She ambled away. ‘Only a few minutes to go . . .’

  Aurora sighed. What if Laura was right? What if Justin made a move? Maybe denying their attraction because of professional ties was futile. Maybe, just maybe, he could be the one.

  She had little or no experience with men, mainly because she had high standards and was also terribly shy. Despite being pursued by the rugby jocks in school, she had always opted for the quiet, nerdy types. They didn’t put pressure on her to have sex or drink vodka and they loved to talk about Comic Con and literature which suited her just fine. Then there had been a guy called Harry at RADA who had broken her heart. Used to relationships that moved at a faster rate, he was reluctant to play the honourable boyfriend, deeming her ‘no sex’ rule old-fashioned and conservative. So, after two months of walks and dinners, he had called time on their love affair, preferring the company of a blonde girl in their class who had a similar outlook to his own. Had she been hurt? Of course. For a wild moment, she had considered giving in to his demands. What was the big deal about sex anyway? Just because it wasn’t true love. Ophelia had often laughed at her romantic ideals and urged her to join the party, as it were, but she had refused. The right man would come along and then it would be so much more special.

  James walked towards her purposefully. ‘So, Borealis, are you all set?’

  She nodded. ‘It’s all downhill from here.’

  ‘You said it. I can see your wrinkles already.’ He examined her face gravely, tilting it upwards into the light. ‘What does Gloria use again? Oil of Olay?’

  She smiled. ‘Something like that.’

  Justin appeared, a full glass of whiskey in his hand. ‘Your father is just an inspiration,’ he said loudly. ‘I insisted that he come to opening night and give me feedback on my direction.’

  ‘I think he had planned to anyway.’

  ‘Well, I want him to review this one. No holds barred. Although, I think it’s damn near perfect.’

  James regarded him coolly. ‘I think Henry will be there for Aurora, first and foremost. There was no need at all to insist on anything.’

  ‘And you are?’ Justin said in surprise.

  ‘Her brother.’ James stood up straight. ‘We’ve met before.’

  ‘Can’t say that I remember.’ Justin looked bored. ‘Say, Aurora, how about we take off? I know a great wine bar near Mayfair.’

  ‘Oh, I’d love to but I can’t,’ she said reddening. ‘This is my party, Justin. Everyone’s here to see me.’

  ‘I’m sure
they won’t notice,’ he pressed. ‘Come on, the city will be buzzing.’

  James pulled Aurora close. ‘She said no.’

  Justin drained his drink. ‘Let her speak for herself.’

  The two men glared at each other.

  Aurora reached out and grasped Justin’s arm. ‘Justin, I can’t. It would be rude,’ she explained kindly. ‘I’m always with Daddy as the clock strikes twelve. It’s a tradition.’ She bit her lip, waiting for a response. James’ grip tightened around her waist. She could tell that he was angry. She knew he didn’t like Justin but he didn’t know him well enough to judge. Nor did Ophelia for that matter. Yes, he was spoilt and forceful, but underneath all that he was vulnerable too. She had seen that side to him many times.

  ‘Oh, suit yourself,’ said Justin eventually. Taking her hand, he pulled her out of James’ grasp. ‘Let’s go over here and discuss the revelation scene. I think Paul needs to work on his accent.’

  James watched them walk away with a dark expression. He could see that Aurora was taken by this guy, but surely she could see that he was a pompous arrogant upstart? She never spoke badly of him and worked crazy hours to please him. Maybe he should have a talk with her in the morning. There were a million guys out there. Justin Debussy was certainly not her Prince in a Barbie Ferrari.

  ‘Hey, you,’ came a voice in his ear.

  He turned around to find a sheepish-looking Claire behind him. Her eyes were warm as she waited for a response.

  All thoughts of Justin melted away and his heart soared. ‘I didn’t think you’d come,’ he said, pulling her close. ‘I hate when we fight.’

  ‘Me, too.’ She kissed him softly. ‘Let’s never fight again. Especially over something so stupid.’

  He cupped her face in his hands and kissed her thoroughly.

  She arched towards him, delighted to be forgiven. It was only after her mother forced her to look at things from James’ point of view that she realised how selfish she was being. Of course he should be at his sister’s birthday party. She had monopolised his time for long enough over the holidays. So, she had hopped on a train and turned up just in time for midnight. They were due to move home to the UK in little under a month and she didn’t want to have any bad blood between the families.

  Aurora listened as Justin went through Paul’s interpretation of Jimmy, nodding at appropriate times and smiling. It was just like when they were at the theatre: he always became completely immersed in his train of thought and could talk for hours. Her gaze travelled around the room. Laura and William were laughing at something. Probably Gordon with the feather boa around his neck. Henry was sitting in his favourite chair, sipping his cognac and smiling benignly. Gloria was head to head with Helena, her bracelets jangling as her hands moved during their conversation. Ophelia was staring at William longingly and her old friends from school were in a group together by the plant.

  Then her gaze rested on James. He was holding Claire and staring into her eyes.

  She didn’t notice Henry shouting ‘Ten, nine, eight, seven –’

  Justin pulled at her arm. ‘It’s almost time,’ he whispered.

  ‘Five … four . . . three . . . two . . . ONE!’

  ‘Happy New Year!’

  The room erupted. Champagne corks popped and there was shouting and singing. William crossed his hands and started singing ‘Auld Lang Syne’, signalling for the rest of the room to join in.

  Aurora waited for James to come over and hug her, just like he always did. All she could see was his dark head bent down towards Claire. Still, she waited. He always hugged her and said, ‘Happy Birthday, Borealis’.

  Instead, he picked Claire up and twirled her around and around.

  ‘Stop it!’ she squealed in delight, her face radiant.

  Then he bent his head and kissed her like before: deeply and passionately.

  ‘Do I get a kiss?’ Justin’s voice seemed miles away.

  He didn’t come to hug me.

  ‘Aurora?’

  She turned around in a daze and he swooped in to kiss her hard on the lips. Her initial reaction was to resist, but then she let it happen. Why not? Justin was handsome and they were both a bit drunk. It felt good to be touched. It felt nice to be desired.

  ‘Let’s go upstairs,’ he breathed, his eyes cloudy. His breath smelt of whiskey.

  She looked at him incredulously and shook her head firmly. ‘In Daddy’s house? Are you insane?’

  ‘How exciting!’ he pressed on, a blond lock of hair falling over his eye. ‘Think about it – they’re all down here and we’ll be up there . . .’

  ‘No.’ She pushed him away gently. ‘I’m not that kind of girl.’

  He regarded her thoughtfully. ‘No, I guess you’re not.’

  He let it drop. Alcohol had dulled his senses and made him careless. He had vowed not to jeopardise their extremely successful working relationship. Not yet anyway.

  Chapter Twenty

  Two weeks later, William got a message from Laura as promised.

  Ella in town! Lunch today at Roux. Sorry for late notice! Hope you can make it.

  He paused for a moment. He had a busy morning and had planned to eat at the canteen for lunch. Typical Laura to text him at the last minute. Accessing his phone, he checked his schedule. The restaurant was in Westminster so he would need at least half an hour to get there. He had rounds and then a meeting with a renal consultant at eleven.

  He texted Laura back, asking for a time. She replied immediately, saying around one. He glanced at his schedule once more. If he postponed his private appointment until late afternoon, he might just swing it.

  Ella Taylor.

  Her image was as plain as day in his head. She had never once acted coquettishly around him, flirting badly and trying to be cool. Being a few years older and blond, he had been a hormonal teenage girl’s dream. Deflecting unwanted attention had been second nature to him throughout his sister’s adolescence. Ella, however, had been different. She had talked to him like a person.

  He smiled when he remembered her unrequited love for Simon. If only she could see him now. The years had not been kind. Gone was the brawny rugby player with the limited vocabulary. He was now an electrician with a paunch, three kids and a balding head.

  William emerged into the sunshine with a spring in his step.

  Laura was waiting at the table when he finally arrived. Her blonde head was bent downwards as she typed furiously on her phone. The maître d’ smiled amiably at him as he led him to the table. The white walls in the small dining room gave it a fresh feel and the accompanying white linen on the tables was spotless. A chair was pulled out for him and he took a seat.

  ‘My God, Lolly, thanks for the notice,’ he said with a pointed look. ‘You do realise that I have a job and can’t just flit off when I please?’

  She finished her email and placed the phone on the table. ‘Sorry, Will. It was last minute on my end too. She messaged me this morning.’ She regarded her brother. ‘You look nice. New shirt?’

  William reddened slightly. ‘Hardly. Gloria gave me this for Christmas.’

  ‘Hmmm.’

  The waiter arrived and offered them a drinks menu.

  ‘Just a Pellegrino for me,’ said William.

  ‘I’ll have a white wine, please,’ said Laura.

  ‘We have many varieties to choose from, madam,’ he said, expertly opening the desired page of the wine list. ‘They vary in price but I would recommend the Bel Air.’

  Laura scanned the list with a frown. ‘That sounds fine,’ she said eventually. ‘Please bring some Evian as well.’

  ‘Of course, madam.’ He scurried away.

  ‘Wine at lunchtime?’ William gave her a disapproving look. ‘Are you finished work for the day?’

  ‘No, smarty,’ she retorted. ‘In my defence, my job entails a lot of wining and dining. Drinking wine at one o’clock is deemed normal.’ She examined her nails. ‘I recruit clients and that sometimes requires some a
lcoholic persuasion.’

  William raised an eyebrow but said nothing.

  Laura had a talent for convincing clients and had risen up the ranks quite rapidly. She had regular companies who used her skills and her boss adored her. She was a valuable asset to the firm and her needs were catered for.

  ‘She’s late,’ she observed, glancing at her watch.

  ‘Just five minutes.’ William poured his sparkling water. ‘Where’s the loo?’

  Laura shrugged. ‘Ask the waiter.’

  William walked away and Laura immediately picked up her phone. There was no reply from Christian regarding his planned trip to London the following weekend. Did that mean that she would have to fly over to New York again? This long-distance thing was hard work.

  The maître d’ arrived with a pretty slim girl in tow. Her face sparkled and her red coat was a vibrant splash of colour against the white walls.

  ‘Laura?’ she said in her plummy accent.

  Laura’s head shot up, alerted by the familiar voice. ‘Ella! Wow, look at you! You’re the same.’

  She stood and they embraced fondly.

  ‘Shall I take your coat, madam?’ said the maître d’.

  Ella hesitated. ‘Well, yes, I suppose.’ She unbuttoned the heavy overcoat and handed it to him.

  Laura sat down and took a frantic sip of wine to mask her surprise. Ella was painfully thin. It was obvious when her slight frame was no longer concealed by the big coat. Her collarbones were jutting out and when she had turned to hand her coat over Laura could see her shoulder blades through the thin fabric of her blouse. On closer inspection, she could see that her face was uncharacteristically caked in foundation, giving artificial colour to her pallid cheeks.

  ‘Would you like a drink?’ said Laura, trying to mask her horror.

  ‘Just some water, please.’ She took a seat and smiled. ‘So, how’s life with you? I’m so glad we got to meet. I have so much that I want to ask you.’

  Laura pulled herself together. ‘Well, I’m in fine fettle actually. I’m in love and he’s great and work is busy –’

  ‘In love? You?’