Finding Felix

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Finding Felix Page 8

by Finding Felix (epub)


  ‘Don’t know, don’t care. I’m already sitting down,’ said Nanny Flo, tapping the arm of her wheelchair, ‘so I won’t fall over. The worse that can happen is that I fall asleep.’

  ‘I, on the other hand…’ I smiled, raising my glass, ‘might well fall over, so keep a careful eye on me.’

  ‘I don’t think there’s any need for us to do that these days, Dottie,’ laughed Mum. ‘Not when there’s someone else keeping such a careful eye on you.’ She nodded her head towards the bar, where Felix stood with a group of Mark’s friends, showing no sign whatsoever of keeping a careful eye on, or indeed anywhere near, me.

  We had, much to my relief, barely had to interact all day. I had thought once or twice about going over to see how he was getting on, but each time I had spotted him he had been mid conversation and seemed to be genuinely enjoying himself – and far more animated than he ever was in my company – so I had left him to get on with it.

  As I looked at him now, I realised that one friend of Mark’s in particular, an attractive policewoman named Rosie, seemed to have been a pretty consistent satellite all day. She was standing next to him again now, gazing up at him and blinking slowly, either in admiration or inebriation, I wasn’t sure which. He, meanwhile, was listening to some anecdote or other being delivered by another colleague of Mark’s. As the teller ended the tale, all members of the small group nodded sombrely, until Felix said something which prompted raucously loud laughter.

  ‘That boy is such a card,’ said Nanny Flo, and I turned to realise that I hadn’t been alone in watching the group.

  ‘A card and a catch,’ said Mum.

  I didn’t respond, instead picking up my glass and taking two large gulps.

  ‘I had such a lovely chat with him after lunch,’ continued my grandmother. ‘I told him that I knew he had loved our Dottie from the very beginning, even when they were both little.’

  I tried to smile but couldn’t quite manage it, so instead took another sip of champagne and a deep breath.

  Becca reached out and squeezed my hand. ‘Ooh, careful, Nanny,’ she said. ‘You’ll make Dot emotional.’

  My grandmother took my other hand and kissed it. ‘Becca’s right, no more romantic talk from me. And besides,’ she added, turning to my mother, ‘I need the toilet.’

  ‘Again?’ exclaimed Mum. ‘You went not half an hour ago.’

  ‘Well if you will keep forcing alcohol down me,’ said Nanny, pointing at the ice bucket. ‘I’m not even sure I should be drinking at all at my age and in my condition, you know.’

  Mum rolled her eyes and I stood up. ‘I’ll take you, Nanny.’

  ‘No, no,’ said my mother wearily, getting to her feet. ‘I actually need to go anyway. You stay and finish your drink with Becca. We won’t be long.’

  She took the handles of the wheelchair and rotated it towards the exit, walking past the double doors which led to the disco just as they opened and Mark emerged, a few notes of the Scissor Sisters escaping with him. I watched for a moment as he crouched down to talk to my grandmother, before returning my attention to Becca.

  ‘You OK?’ she asked anxiously.

  ‘Oh for goodness’ sake, yes,’ I smiled, upset at the thought of concern for me clouding her enjoyment of the day. ‘I’m having a lovely time, and all that,’ I jerked a thumb over my shoulder in the general direction of Felix, ‘has been absolutely fine.’

  She nodded. ‘He’s a lot more fun than I was expecting,’ she said. ‘More like the Felix I remembered than the one you described really.’

  ‘I know,’ I agreed. ‘Maybe it’s the company. Maybe I’m the dampener,’ I added ruefully.

  ‘Don’t be silly,’ said Becca, nudging me. ‘It’s more likely that you’re gradually bringing him out of himself.’

  I smiled at her. ‘Your capacity for positive spin is endless.’

  ‘Skivers!’

  Becca and I turned simultaneously at the sound of the accusation to discover Mark standing behind us grinning, his dark blonde hair in slight disarray and his boyish face pink and shiny with sweat.

  ‘So far, I’ve danced with two women and one bloke who all claim to be cousins of yours,’ he said with obvious scepticism to Becca. ‘Plus I’ve led a very early conga. Although I’m not sure it counted as a conga as there were only the four of us – me and the “cousins”.’ He drew the inverted commas in the air. ‘But I’m keeping the energy up in there all by myself. Come and give us a hand, will you?’

  Becca laughed and looked at me. ‘Fancy it?’ she asked.

  ‘You go on,’ I said, finishing my first glass of champagne and pouring myself another half. ‘I’ll be in just as soon as I’ve finished this.’

  ‘I’m going to wait for Dot, Mark,’ said Becca.

  I stood up and hoisted her to her feet. ‘You are not, you shirker,’ I said, pushing her towards him. ‘Now get back to the disco and stand by your man. I’ll be in in two minutes to execute some spins with Nanny Flo. She’ll love that.’

  Becca looked at Mark uncertainly.

  ‘Actually, I could do with a sit-down,’ he said. ‘I’ll stay here with Dot for a bit while you go and have a bop.’

  ‘That sounds good,’ she smiled.

  ‘You two are unbelievable!’ I exclaimed, laughing. ‘I have champagne and a comfy seat. Can I please just enjoy those two things – in peace – for a few more minutes until Mum and Nanny get back, and then I promise, hand on heart, I will come and do the Macarena.’

  Mark nodded. ‘Deal,’ he said, with the sense of a man who knew when to end a conversation. ‘Now come on, Becs,’ he said, taking his wife by the hand and leading her away. ‘You’ve procrastinated long enough.’

  I watched them go, smiling to myself, before sitting back down and reaching for my drink, genuinely looking forward to a conversationless interlude in a day which had otherwise been nothing but chatter.

  But it was not to be.

  ‘Can I join you?’

  I sighed internally before looking up a little wearily to discover Alistair smiling down at me, his cravat gone and the top button of his shirt undone. I stared up at him for a moment, picturing him taking my hand as he told me that he had realised he couldn’t live without me.

  ‘I’ll take that as a no, then, shall I?’ he asked.

  I shook my head. ‘Oh no – it’s not a no. I just thought you might be someone I had to make an effort with, and I’m a bit pooped.’

  ‘Please,’ he said, raising a hand and sitting down, ‘I wouldn’t want you to make any effort on my account.’

  I smiled. ‘Having a good time?’

  ‘I am,’ he nodded. ‘I managed to catch up with your dad earlier, which was great. You?’

  ‘I’m really enjoying the day. I’ll admit that the pampering required to get to this point was a bit painful.’ I pointed towards my hair and face. ‘But I couldn’t be happier for Becca.’

  ‘The pampering was well worth it,’ he said. ‘You look very…’ He hesitated and picked up the half-full beer glass he had brought with him. ‘The pampering was well worth it,’ he repeated.

  ‘So, how are you?’ I asked. ‘I don’t really know what you’ve been up to.’

  What I actually meant was, Tell me all about your new relationship, and I was pretty sure he knew it.

  ‘I got to talk to Felix earlier. Just briefly.’

  I nodded. It was as if he knew that I needed reminding that I had a boyfriend. ‘That’s… good,’ I said uncertainly.

  ‘It was,’ he confirmed. ‘I didn’t realise you’d known each other as children. He talked a lot about when you were younger.’

  Because there’s nothing else to say, I thought ruefully. ‘Yes, we go way back,’ I said.

  ‘And here’s the man himself,’ said Alistair, looking up and to my left. I turned my head.

  ‘Hi again,’ said Felix, smiling at Alistair. He looked down at me. ‘What was it you wanted?’

  I frowned up at him. ‘What do you me
an?’

  He pointed over his shoulder. ‘Helen said you wanted to talk to me.’

  I looked towards the bar, where my mother was now standing with Nanny Flo in her wheelchair. She beamed and waved at me, in response to which I narrowed my eyes and pursed my lips, and then watched as she quickly turned and pushed Nanny Flo through the double doors and into the disco.

  I returned my attention to Felix, who was still looking at me questioningly. ‘So?’ he asked.

  ‘I’ve forgotten,’ I said with an apologetic shrug. ‘It was quite a while, and a few drinks, ago.’ I pointed at the bottle of champagne.

  ‘Oh, OK,’ he said, his face now expressionless.

  ‘Have a seat,’ said Alistair jovially.

  ‘Yes, sit down,’ I echoed, working hard to make the invitation sound enthusiastic, desperate for Alistair to envy me my new relationship as much as I envied him his.

  After the minutest of hesitations, Felix sat, and I casually extended my left arm to rest along the back of his chair. He glanced at it whilst fidgeting slightly in his seat.

  ‘I was just saying to Dot that I had no idea you two were friends as children – until you told me,’ said Alistair.

  ‘Yes, and through university,’ said Felix.

  ‘Quite a relationship,’ smiled Alistair.

  Felix nodded. ‘It was.’

  ‘You mean it is,’ laughed Alistair.

  Felix looked towards the group at the bar. ‘I think I’ve left my drink over there.’

  I noticed Alistair’s smile falter slightly.

  ‘Get it in a minute, Felix,’ I smiled, placing a hand on his arm. ‘Stay and talk. I’ve barely seen you all day.’

  He looked down at my hand and then up at me and then back down at my hand. He wasn’t smiling and I felt myself tense, suddenly and unexpectedly afraid of what he might be about to say.

  ‘Oi! You lot!’ I turned, never more grateful to see Uncle Geoffrey. He was sashaying towards us, beckoning and laughing as he came. ‘Becca says we need you to get people up and dancing,’ he gasped, reaching our table and flopping down next to me. ‘They’re sitting round the edge of the dance floor and Becca said, “Get Dot in here. She’ll get them on their feet.”’

  I laughed, more with relief at the get out from my currently awkward social situation than at the prospect of dancing the night away. ‘Sure, I’ll come.’

  ‘Good girl,’ said Uncle Geoffrey, hauling himself back onto his feet. ‘And grab yourself a partner,’ he added, placing a friendly hand on Felix’s shoulder. ‘It’s all hands to the deck and feet to the dance floor, Felix.’

  Felix smiled up at him. ‘Can’t wait to catch your moves, Geoff,’ he said.

  Uncle Geoffrey laughed, did a twirl and then headed off back in the direction of the disco. ‘I’ll tell them you’ll be along in a moment,’ he called.

  I sighed and stood up. ‘Do you want to come too, Alistair?’

  He smiled and shook his head. ‘Maybe later.’

  I looked at Felix, who had now taken his phone from his pocket and appeared to be texting. ‘Come on,’ I said, smiling and punching him lightly on the arm.

  He started slightly. ‘Sorry, what?’

  ‘Come and dance.’

  ‘Oh.’ He shook his head and returned his attention to his phone. ‘No thanks. I’m fine here.’

  I stared at him and punched him a second time. ‘Becca needs bodies on the dance floor, and I’m not going to dance on my own.’ I managed a light laugh.

  ‘I’m sure somebody will dance with you,’ he said absently, still focused on his phone. ‘What about your uncle? Or I bet Alistair will, won’t you, Alistair?’ he murmured.

  Alistair cleared his throat. ‘Er, well, of course.’

  Felix glanced up at me. ‘There you go. Perfect partner.’

  Aware of Alistair’s obvious discomfort, I continued to stare at Felix because I didn’t know where else to look.

  Eventually he glanced up a second time. ‘Sorry, what did you say?’ he asked.

  I shook my head. ‘I didn’t say anything.’

  ‘OK, well, you two enjoy yourselves,’ he said, smiling and standing up. ‘I’m going to go and retrieve my drink and I’ll see you later, OK?’

  Alistair raised his pint towards him, while I remained silent.

  ‘Great.’ Felix offered us a general wave, then, apparently forgetting about his drink, walked straight past the bar and through a door which led into the main entrance hall of the manor.

  I took a deep breath and picked up my glass.

  ‘Do you want to dance?’ asked Alistair.

  I turned to look at him, and his expression of pity mingled with concern said it all: I was a woman on the rebound who had hooked up with the first available shit she had trodden in. And just when I thought I couldn’t feel any more humiliated, he helped me to peak with an extra dollop of kindness and consideration. ‘Or would you prefer to talk?’ he asked gently.

  I attempted a smile, although I suspect what I achieved was more representative of the agony of childbirth. ‘Thanks, but it’s OK. I’m just going to pop to the loo and then go and get motivational in the disco.’ I felt my lower lip wobble as I came to the end of the sentence, and pressed my champagne flute to my mouth in an attempt to control it. ‘I’ll just finish this,’ I mumbled into the glass, draining its contents for the second time in twenty minutes.

  And then, without another word to Alistair, I went in search of Felix. Because no matter how much I needed his cooperation, I had had enough.

  Chapter 12

  I exited the bar through the same door as Felix and, after a moment’s indecision, headed first for the men’s toilets. But after my increasingly loud and aggressive enquiries through the outer doorway elicited no response, save for a very timid and elderly-sounding, ‘I’m not Felix, I’m Leonard,’ I returned to the entrance hall and, with hands on hips, considered the possibilities.

  The hall was about fifteen metres square, with a wide, sweeping staircase rising up from its centre and forking off into two landings at the top. These, I knew, led only to bedrooms. So unless Felix had got lucky with Constable Rosie and she had a room booked, I reasoned that he was unlikely to have gone up there.

  I glanced to my right, and out through large wooden and glass-panelled double doors, wondering if he had perhaps opted for an evening stroll around the manor’s rather impressive gardens. But noticing that it was now raining, I discounted that possibility too.

  So that left a choice of only two other doors, both situated on the rear wall of the hall, underneath the staircase. If Felix wasn’t behind either of those, I would have to resort to scouring back corridors and kitchens for him. But I was ready for that. However long it took, I was determined to find him and have it out.

  Now feeling slightly unsteady on my feet, due to a combination of pent-up emotion and one too many units of alcohol, I removed my heels and walked barefoot towards the first door. Opening it, I discovered a small room, empty save for two wooden desks and a dozen or so metal clothes rails on casters. Sighing, I closed that door before opening the one next to it and stepping inside.

  I found myself in a large but cosy lounge, in which sofas, armchairs and various lamps effectively divided the space into four small seating areas, one of which had an enormous stone fireplace as its focus. The walls were painted a soft green, rising to meet an ornately corniced ceiling and hung with large portraits depicting, I presumed, former residents of the manor. It was a beautiful room and for a moment I was distracted and fascinated by the fact that none of the other guests had yet stumbled upon it. It was only after my alcohol-dulled brain reasoned that its door was all but hidden from view by the staircase, and that no one else would have felt a need to go in search of anywhere but a quiet bar or booming disco, that I realised the room wasn’t in fact entirely empty. For in the far corner, with his head of dark hair visible above the back of a leather Queen Anne armchair, sat Felix – and he clearly hadn’t heard me
come in.

  I closed the door quietly behind me and, taking a moment and a deep breath to steady myself, walked to the other end of the room to confront him.

  ‘Hello, Felix,’ I said, as I drew level with his chair.

  To my satisfaction, he started slightly before looking up from his phone. I resisted an urge to rip it from his hands and dash it against the nearest wall.

  ‘Oh, hi,’ he said, looking at first surprised and then, I thought, a little irritated. ‘Did you remember what you wanted to talk to me about?’

  ‘I did, actually,’ I said stiffly. ‘But maybe now isn’t the best time?’ I pointed at his phone.

  He heaved a sigh – which made me want to punch him – before turning the phone over and placing it face down on a low coffee table next to him. ‘No, it’s fine,’ he said, interlacing his fingers and resting his hands on his lap. ‘You carry on.’

  ‘Do you even like me?’ I asked my pre-planned question without hesitation, congratulating myself on my steely and steady tone.

  He had been staring blankly at his phone but now looked up at me, clearly confused. ‘What?’

  ‘Do… you… even… like… me?’ I repeated, pausing between each word for emphasis.

  He studied me for a moment. ‘Why would you ask me that?’

  ‘Because you don’t behave as if you like me, or remotely enjoy my company,’ I said simply. ‘And yet you seem to have a marvellous time with absolutely everyone else.’

  ‘Is that so?’ he said, sounding bored.

  ‘Yes, it is so, actually,’ I continued, irritated by his tone and unable to keep that irritation from my voice. ‘You’re more than happy to spend all day flirting with that female policeman in the bar, aren’t you? And all night clubbing with sexy Linda and her cocktail hanging around your neck…’

  ‘That all sounds intriguingly gender fluid and exotic, but I have no idea who either of those two people are,’ he interjected calmly.

  ‘… but when it comes to me, you’re about as much fun…’

  ‘You don’t mean Linda our PA, do you? Because she’s sixty-two and has never hung around my neck.’

 

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