by Fay Keenan
Just as she was about to descend the steep staircase, she paused. There, chatting amiably to Rachel as if they’d known each other for years, was Charlie. But this was a Charlie that took her breath away. Hair slicked back from his face, in an impeccably cut dinner jacket and a bow tie that looked as if he’d actually tied it himself, he looked every inch a superstar.
As he glanced upwards, she caught a flash of the dark crimson lining of his dinner jacket, and suddenly all the pithy lines she’d rehearsed in her head, all the ironic snark she’d wanted to hit him with went up in smoke. She felt her body responding to him in ways that it hadn’t responded to anyone since she and Andrew had gone their separate ways, and she was totally blindsided. The moment was complete when, as she paused at the top of the stairs, Charlie’s jaw dropped at the sight of her.
‘Wow…’ he said, visibly jolted. ‘You look absolutely amazing.’
Holly’s eyes met Rachel’s, and her sister gave an almost imperceptible wink.
‘Thanks, so do you.’ The unexpectedly breathy and high pitch of her own voice made Holly wince.
Thankfully, Rachel came to the rescue.
‘Well, I’ve done my bit by way of being the doorman, so I’ll make myself scarce,’ she said.
Shooting Holly a tell-me-all-about-it-tomorrow-and-I-mean-everything glance as she left, Holly and Charlie were suddenly alone. And the hallway of Holly’s flat seemed incredibly intimate.
‘Are you ready for tonight?’ Holly asked as she drew a little closer to Charlie, who was still standing, looking ever so slightly dazed at the sight of her. ‘Did you manage to get your speech written?’ She continued, trying to steer the conversation away from her thumping heart and onto safe ground.
At the mention of the speech, Charlie seemed to snap back to reality. ‘The speech. Yes. Yes, I did. It’s all fine. And did I mention you look amazing?’
Holly laughed. ‘You might have stammered something, yes. And thank you.’ She moved a little closer to him. ‘You scrub up pretty well yourself.’
‘Thanks,’ Charlie’s voice had a husky undertone. ‘Although I should take issue with the colour of the dress, it really, really suits you.’
He dipped his head and Holly gasped as his lips met hers. All of a sudden, as the kiss deepened and he pulled her close towards him, she wanted to forget all about this starchy dinner and drag him upstairs to her bedroom. But, once again, time was against them.
‘Steady on,’ Charlie breathed. ‘It’s going to be a long night if you keep reminding me of all the kissing we could be doing instead!’ He broke away from her, and she could see his eyes were dark with desire. ‘And we really should get going.’
Holly smiled. She felt about a million miles away now from the shy, hesitant girl she had been all those years ago in London, and although the dress was also miles away from what she would normally wear these days, she had to admit that she liked the effect it was having on Charlie. ‘OK. But I’m warning you, I can only keep a lid on my subversive opinions for so long. You might have to drag me away if I end up getting too outspoken.’
‘So long as I can drag you away and be alone with you, that’s fine with me,’ Charlie said, that husky note still very much in his voice. ‘But for now, let’s go and mingle, shall we?’
Heart thumping almost painfully under the bones of the bodice of the dress, Holly wondered what would happen after the mingling; was tonight the night that she and Charlie would take a step further in their relationship? Her body, already beginning to ache for his touch, was sending signals that it, at least, really hoped it was.
21
Holly felt a fresh flutter of nerves in her stomach as Charlie pulled into the car park of the Swanley Hotel. A triumph of Victorian industrialist architecture, its austere windows peered suspiciously out across the town centre, seeming to glare at all newcomers.
Holly shook her head. ‘I thought this kind of gig had died out along with Nokia phones!’
‘Sadly not,’ Charlie said wryly. ‘But then, most party members are twice your age, and probably still using that kind of mobile.’ He turned off the engine and looked at her. ‘Thank you for coming with me tonight,’ he said softly. ‘I know this isn’t exactly your cup of tea, but I’m glad you agreed to it.’
‘Don’t thank me until later,’ Holly joked. ‘It’s been so long since I’ve been to a function like this, I’ve forgotten how to behave myself!’
‘I’m sure that’s not true,’ Charlie replied, although he did look a little unnerved. He hopped out of the car, and before Holly could open her own door, he’d hurried round to her side and opened it for her.
Stepping out of the BMW in such a tight dress was a bit of an issue, and she was grateful for his hand as he offered it to her.
‘Did I tell you how amazing you look?’ he whispered into her ear, sending a shiver down her spine.
‘Yes, you did,’ Holly replied playfully, ‘so stop trying to butter me up.’
‘As if I would!’ Charlie said. ‘Come on, let’s go and do this.’ And with that, they headed into the foyer of the hotel.
A little time later, and Holly was beginning to relax a bit. She knew, from Charlie’s slightly set jaw, that he was still feeling tense; he had his speech to come when coffee had been served after the meal. But the food was decent, and she was sitting next to the mild-mannered husband of the town’s mayor, who was doing a good job of lightening her mood. Aged around sixty, he had the slightly resigned air of a man who was used to being in the shadow of a politically powerful spouse, and he’d been pointing out people to her in a calm undertone for most of the evening.
‘On that table to your left are most of the members of the Stavenham Chambers of Commerce and their spouses,’ he was saying. ‘Perhaps you should have a word after dinner – get your name into the mix as a local business owner.’
‘I’m not sure they’ll have much to say to me,’ Holly’s eyes glinted. ‘I’m hardly their typical member.’
‘Still worth a chat,’ he replied. ‘All contacts are good contacts.’
The mayor was still chatting animatedly to Charlie, who was nodding and smiling, although Holly noticed he did seem a bit distracted.
‘Have you known him long?’ the mayor’s husband asked, catching the direction of her gaze.
‘Not very,’ Holly admitted. ‘And have you been married long?’
‘Forty years next year,’ he said. ‘Three sons and a daughter, and six grandchildren to show for it. And, for the past few years, quite a lot of these kinds of dinners.’ He patted a slightly paunchy belly. ‘Price you pay, among other things.’
Holly was intrigued. ‘Such as?’
‘Oh, you know,’ he smiled at her. ‘Being under scrutiny all the time, on display a lot, but also in the background. Keeping your opinions to yourself, in public, at least. I often wonder how the other halves of the really prominent politicians cope with it.’
Holly glanced back at Charlie, feeling the slightest sense of unease. ‘I don’t think he’d be hugely worried about my disagreeing with him.’
‘You’d be surprised,’ he said. ‘So long as it’s in private, you’re all right. But express an alternative view in public and things might get tricky.’
Holly felt a bigger shiver of disquiet at the man’s words. She and Charlie, potentially, could have a lot to disagree on. Would growing attraction and affection be enough to counteract that?
‘But don’t you worry too much,’ he broke into her thoughts again. ‘Perhaps it’s a bit different now to what it was.’
Holly smiled but said nothing. Something told her that things weren’t as different as all that.
‘Everything OK?’ Charlie asked as he turned towards her. He slipped a hand into hers, where the one not occupied with her wine glass was resting in her lap. His hand was warm and dry and did not betray for a moment any nervousness about having to make a speech in front of all these people.
Holly again wondered if that confidence came f
rom conviction that he was right, or if he’d trained himself to project it. What if they truly were at opposite ends of the political spectrum these days? She felt a frisson of nerves that wasn’t just to do with Charlie’s hand in hers.
‘Fine,’ she smiled tightly. ‘You’ll knock them dead with your speech.’
‘Not literally, I hope,’ Charlie said dryly. ‘One or two of them look like they’re halfway there already.’
As the coffees were served, Holly’s sense of disquiet was growing. She sat quietly beside Charlie as he took a sip of his coffee, before the leader of the Chamber of Commerce tapped his wineglass with a spoon to get everyone’s attention. Gradually, the buzz of chatter diminished and, as it did, Charlie got up to speak. He glanced briefly down at Holly as he rose, and she tried to summon up an encouraging smile.
‘Good evening, ladies and gentleman,’ he began, looking around the function room at the assembled diners, who, replete with three courses, coffee and wine, were in a mellow, responsive mood. ‘It’s such a pleasure to be here among you tonight…’
As Charlie launched into his speech, acknowledging the hard work of the Chamber of Commerce and the local party faithful, singling out particular business owners and local bigwigs for dutiful praise, Holly felt increasingly conflicted. Charlie was a charismatic speaker, who struck the perfect balance between deference, knowledge and personality. He was rubbing all the right tummies, making these fat cats purr with pleasure, and it was easy to write him off as just another one of those self-serving politicos on the make. However, just as Holly’s mind was starting to wander, Charlie changed tack. What had, up to this point, been an anodyne, palatable speech became something a little different.
‘I want to make some changes, both here and in Westminster, to really improve the lives of those in the constituency who need it the most. Hugo Fitzgerald might have been a long-serving MP, but his voting record left a lot to be desired at times. I welcome feedback from each and every one of you, and I look forward to taking Willowbury and Stavenham further into the twenty-first century. There are things to be improved, even in this leafy, wealthy part of the countryside, and I will make it my business to make it happen.’
‘What side is he meant to be on, again?’ the mayor’s husband whispered to Holly, with a twinkle in his eye.
Holly shook her head. She hadn’t expected such a blunt dismissal of Hugo Fitzgerald from Charlie, and she suddenly felt a lot less conflicted. If he really could make positive changes, if it wasn’t all just bluster and posturing, then perhaps she could give him a break, politically speaking, after all.
Charlie sat down to happy applause; the audience were prepared to be forgiving for his first official dinner it seemed. Holly wondered, though, how forgiving they’d be if Charlie did make some radical decisions.
‘Well done,’ she whispered, while the applause was still ringing around the hall.
‘Impressed?’ Charlie said, a glint in his eye.
‘Perhaps,’ Holly replied.
‘Good.’ Charlie glanced at Tom. ‘He, on the other hand, is going to bollock me for going off script.’
‘Really?’ Holly asked. ‘I would have thought he’d welcome a little independent spirit.’
‘Only so far as it doesn’t put me out of favour with the donors!’ Charlie replied. ‘And anyway, actions speak louder than words, don’t you think?’ He held her gaze for a fraction longer than necessary, and Holly felt her stomach flip with a combination of nerves and desire.
She opened her mouth to respond, but then the disco began. As a familiar tune from the early noughties came over the speakers, Holly was grateful for the distraction.
‘I can’t believe they’re starting off with this one,’ she laughed. ‘But perhaps you should show willing and start the dancing.’
‘You are joking, aren’t you?’ Charlie grimaced. ‘I haven’t been on a dance floor since… well, for a very long time, anyway.’
‘Oh, come on, stick-in-the-mud!’ Holly said, eyes glinting with amusement. ‘Don’t you remember dancing to this one at school discos?’
‘I do,’ Charlie replied. ‘And I’ve got absolutely no desire to relive that experience!’
‘Please yourself,’ Holly said. Turning to the wife of Charlie’s constituency agent, who’d come over with Tom to discuss the speech, she gestured, ‘Do you fancy it, Claudia?’
‘Oh, why not?’ Claudia said, rising from the table like a rather rotund Greek goddess, resplendent in a one-shouldered, peppermint-green sheath dress. She raised an eyebrow at her husband and Charlie, who remained resolutely seated.
As the familiar, cheesy strains of ‘La Macarena’ took hold, echoing across the dance floor, Holly and Claudia took to the parquet.
Glancing back at Charlie, Holly couldn’t tell if he looked pleased or mortified. Then, as she picked up the familiar moves of the song, she saw Tom whispering something in his ear. Without missing a beat, Charlie stood up and strode to the dance floor, taking his place alongside Holly. Holly nearly lost her step as Charlie joined in the dance.
‘I didn’t think this was your thing,’ she said wryly as he showed a surprising aptitude for the moves.
‘Tom thought it’d make a good photo opportunity,’ Charlie grinned back. ‘And who am I to refuse?’
Holly slapped his arm playfully. ‘You’re such a media whore!’
‘Yup,’ Charlie agreed, ‘but there are at least four people filming me doing this blooming dance, and you never know, it might make me more down with the kids.’
‘I doubt it,’ Holly murmured. ‘If you were dabbing or flossing, perhaps, but the Macarena was old when we were kids!’
Charlie looked baffled. ‘Dabbing and what? The only thing I’ve flossed lately is my teeth. Are you telling me I’m that out of touch?’
‘I’d organise a trip to the local secondary school if you want to connect with da youth,’ Holly teased. ‘They’ll set you right about what’s new and current.’
‘In the meantime, you’d better remind me how this flipping dance goes,’ Charlie said. He looked down at her moving hands, and then appreciatively at her as she put them behind her head, shimmied and jumped to the beat.
Holly felt her stomach flipping with desire. They’d got close to something the other day, and it seemed they were edging ever closer with every minute they spent together. Was tonight going to be the night?
Then she chided herself; did anyone else get horny when they saw their date doing the Macarena?
Throwing herself into the dance, and putting all thoughts of shagging Charlie out of her mind, she concentrated on remembering the moves. Eventually, the song ended and transitioned into something a little more sedate. Holly, breathing a little more quickly due to the tightness of the dress and the energy she’d thrown into the Macarena, again felt her heart flip as Charlie slipped his hand around her waist. The song that had come on was again rather an old one but definitely written for a different kind of dancing.
As Charlie pulled her in a little more closely, she could feel his warm breath on her cheek. They swayed together, as did all the other couples on the dance floor, and Holly started to relax.
‘That was exciting,’ Charlie murmured. ‘But not quite as exciting as this.’ He slid a hand tantalisingly lower on her back, but not too far down as to cause a scandal among this particular crowd.
‘I can’t quite believe I’m saying this, but it’s nice to be here. Right here,’ Holly clarified. ‘Although I’m still a bit under duress.’
‘I know,’ Charlie’s eyes were twinkling. ‘But you’re really impressing the hell out of everyone here, despite yourself.’
Holly shook her head. ‘Night’s not over yet.’ She turned her head slightly and caught sight of Miles Fairbrother propping up the bar in the corner of the function room. She could barely suppress a shudder. ‘That man makes my skin crawl,’ she muttered into Charlie’s shoulder. ‘How do you manage to be so bloody polite to everyone? Even when you might not b
e able to stand the sight of them?’
‘Desire to keep hold of my seat, and a lot of massages from a very good local practitioner,’ Charlie said playfully, although Holly noticed an intensity in his eyes.
‘I’ve heard she’s good with her hands,’ Holly murmured, and then gasped as Charlie pulled her closer, leaving her in absolutely no doubt as to where his thoughts were going.
‘Steady on,’ he whispered. ‘An MP with an erection would not go down well on this dance floor, with this crowd.’
‘You might well finish off some of your more elderly voters,’ Holly said wryly.
‘Shall we get out of here, then?’ Charlie suggested, his eyes growing darker with desire. ‘I think I’ve done my duty. And you’ve certainly gone above and beyond yours.’
‘Sure,’ Holly said. ‘I could do with getting out of these heels.’ She smiled mischievously. ‘And I’ll need a hand with the zip on this dress – Rachel had to shoehorn me into it.’
‘It would be my pleasure,’ Charlie replied. ‘But can you stop making me imagine unzipping your dress? I’ll never manage to say goodbye coherently to all these people otherwise!’ He smiled down at her. ‘Speaking of which, I should let Tom and Claudia and the organisers know we’re off. Shall I meet you in the foyer?’
‘Sounds good,’ Holly said. ‘I’ll just go and grab my stuff and meet you out there.’
With palpable regret, they broke apart.
Charlie strode off to make his excuses and Holly cast around for Rachel’s pashmina and her handbag. Seeing them on one of the chairs at the dinner tables, she wandered over to collect them. As she did so, she was irritated to see Miles Fairbrother and his fellow business owner passing the other way.
‘Bit of a turn-up to see you here, missy,’ Miles said, distaste evident in his tone. ‘Wouldn’t have thought this was your kind of scene, with all of these filthy capitalists.’
