‘I’d like to oblige but I’m pretty sure I’d struggle. And you should be careful what you wish for – my friend Marella thinks I’m quite boring of late, and if I was very honest I’d be inclined to agree with her. What would Giles and Sandra think about it? Surely they’d have something to say?’
‘If you stay in my house that’s my choice, not theirs. They had no problem with…’ He paused, seemingly about to say something that he then decided it was better to keep to himself. ‘It’s my house and I can decide who stays with me.’
‘Yes, but I’m not just anyone. I’m the niece you hardly know and a constant reminder that your mum and your sister didn’t exactly see eye to eye.’
‘That doesn’t bother me one bit.’
‘But it might bother Giles to see me around so often.’
‘I don’t think it will bother him one bit – he likes you as much as I do. But if you don’t want to do it…?’ There was an awkward pause. ‘Pretend I never asked – I should have known it was too much.’
‘Not at all,’ Posy said. ‘If anything I feel it’s too much for me to ask of you. I’d be getting the far better deal, spending so much time at Oleander House.’
‘Perhaps we ought to do a house swap,’ Asa said.
‘You would not want to live in my tiny home. I think your bathroom might be bigger than my entire house!’
‘But you get all the excitement.’
‘I’m sure there’s more excitement to be had in Astercombe than you might think. You’re too used to it, that’s all; you take it all for granted. I suppose I do too, come to think of it.’
‘When you say there’s excitement, could you be referring to your run-in with a certain Scottish vintner?’
‘Angry Naked Man?’ Posy said and instantly clapped a hand to her mouth and blushed right down to her toes. She’d never revealed to anyone the exact circumstances of their meeting – at least not deliberately – but it looked as if she’d just told Asa whether she’d intended to or not.
His eyes turned into saucers.
‘I’ve kind of seen his bits,’ she replied sheepishly.
‘Oh my God! You saw him as God intended?’
‘Stark bollock-naked,’ Posy said, blushing harder still despite laughing.
Asa gave the broadest, wickedest grin. ‘That’s the most brilliant thing I’ve heard all year! How on earth did this happen?’
‘It’s a long story.’
‘I don’t care,’ he said, getting comfortable in his chair, ‘I’ve got all night!’
* * *
‘You look amazing!’ Marella squeaked as she ran to meet Posy outside the block of flats where the party was being held.
‘No I don’t, I look like a turnip,’ Posy said, laughing as she looked down at herself. ‘And I’m only doing this for you, and because I’m going to be away for a while and you made me feel all guilty about it. So just remember that next time you complain that I never go anywhere with you and I’m no fun anymore. You’ll pull your face and I’ll remind you of the sacrifices I made.’
‘It’s fun!’
‘Easy for you to say in your gold bikini. The only outfit I could get at the last minute was this and it’s far from glamorous.’
‘You look adorable.’
‘I look like an old carpet.’
‘Everyone loves the Ewoks – you’ll be the star of the show.’
‘Nobody fancied the Ewoks though, did they?’
‘I expect other Ewoks did. Besides, you said you didn’t want to hook up with anyone because all the men in London are so tiresome and boring, so you won’t care, will you?’
‘Just because you don’t want to get with someone, doesn’t mean you don’t want them to want to get with you.’
Marella tossed her hair back and turned to the building. ‘Come on, I think we’re late enough to be just about fashionable.’
‘Yes,’ Posy agreed. ‘And we should get you inside before you get arrested for indecent exposure… which is something you definitely couldn’t say for me.’
* * *
Five minutes later they were in a living room smaller than Posy’s bathroom at home, squashed onto a sofa with a stormtrooper who’d already given up his helmet due to overheating and some kind of alien that Posy couldn’t even recognise. Not that she’d recognise anything but the most popular characters from the Star Wars franchise – the last film she’d watched was with her dad when she was about twelve and she’d never seen any of the new ones. She knew all the obvious, of course, the things that were ingrained in the cultural landscape, but she was hardly what you’d call a fan. That alone made her feel like a bit of a fraud being here dressed up, as well as feeling a bit stupid. And the party wasn’t exactly what you’d call swinging so far, which didn’t help. Darth Vader handed her a cocktail. She didn’t ask what it was but it looked nice enough. Then he handed one to Marella.
‘Oooh, thank you,’ Marella said. ‘Love your costume, by the way.’
‘I love yours too,’ Darth Vader said, but in a voice with a distinct accent that was more Birmingham than Tatooine.
‘Is it hot in there?’ Posy asked, more for something to say than anything else.
‘Ridiculous,’ Darth Vader replied. ‘I’ll probably slip some ice cubes into my leggings in a bit. It usually helps.’
What did one say to that? Posy certainly didn’t know and so she gave a lame smile and put her cocktail to her lips so that she wouldn’t have to say anything at all. Besides, she was hot already too and she might have to see if she could steal some ice cubes for her own costume before the night was out. Assuming she lasted the night of course, because she was already itching to leave. She really wished she hadn’t agreed to this stupid party, and it was only because she loved Marella so much that she had.
‘I bet you’re nice and cool in yours,’ Darth Vader said to Marella. Which, of course, she was, because she was practically naked.
‘Oh yes,’ Marella said.
There was a moment of awkward silence as the conversation petered out. It was no more than a second or two but it felt so long Posy was convinced she could have read War and Peace by the time Darth Vader spoke again.
‘Help yourself to snacks and drinks from the kitchen,’ he said. ‘I’ll catch you later – off to mingle.’
Posy gave a disbelieving glance around the room as he glided away, cloak billowing behind him.
‘Who’s he mingling with?’ Posy whispered to Marella. ‘There’s nobody to mingle with but us!’
‘That’s what I thought,’ the stormtrooper said, and Posy whipped round, flustered and guilty that her whisper had carried further than was polite. ‘Hopefully it’ll fill up later and make it worth our while. I paid twenty quid to hire this suit – I could have got a round in at the Hope and Anchor and had a better time than I have so far.’
‘I expect it’ll fill up soon,’ Marella said. ‘I’m Marella, by the way.’
‘Jackson,’ he said, putting out his hand to give her a fist bump. Posy resisted the urge to roll her eyes, and then was mortified that he did the same to her. How old did she look? Who over the age of twelve gave fist bumps when they met people?
‘Like Pollock?’ Marella said.
‘Pardon?’
‘Like the artist? Jackson Pollock?’
‘Oh, yeah… I guess so.’ He looked at Posy. ‘Your outfit is cute.’
Posy pulled down the furry hood that was supposed to be her Ewok head (she’d refused to put the nose and teeth in) and ran a hand through her hair. ‘I’m beginning to regret it already.’
‘Yeah, it’s roasting in here, isn’t it? My helmet came off pretty much the minute I got here.’
‘Everything was already off when I got here!’ Marella purred, and Posy could see that she fancied Jackson. She gave an inward groan. She couldn’t deny that he was good-looking – young, blond, a bit skater boy – but even so. This was going to be another one of those parties where Marella got off with someone and di
sappeared into another room, leaving Posy to fend off someone else who was infinitely less attractive but was labouring under the impression that if two women arrived at a party together it meant that one had to do whatever the other was doing. She braced herself for the onslaught.
While she’d been thinking this, another four guests had arrived: a Luke Skywalker, a Han Solo, another Princess Leia but with the white dress and the buns, and – of course – a Chewbacca. Poor soul, Posy thought. If I think it’s hot in here, he’s going to be a puddle by the end of the night. The Brummie Darth Vader rushed to welcome them.
‘So…’ Marella turned to Jackson and gave him a flirty look that Posy knew only too well. The charm offensive was well under way and Posy wasn’t keen to be a gooseberry for anyone, even the best friend she adored. Time to get out of Dodge.
With that in mind, she downed the rest of her cocktail.
‘Don’t mind me,’ she said, getting up from the sofa. ‘I’m just off to get another drink from the kitchen. ‘Anybody want anything?’
‘No thanks,’ Marella said.
‘I’m—’ Jackson began, but Posy was already on her way, certain he wasn’t talking to her anyway and not really bothered if he was. When she’d asked if anyone had wanted a drink she’d actually meant Marella, and if he had anything about him he’d know that.
In the kitchen – which was barely wide enough to let two people pass, let alone when one of them was dressed as an Ewok and one as Obi-Wan Kenobi – Posy located a jug of what was likely punch. She took a sniff and it smelled potent enough – probably worth a punt. Obi-Wan Kenobi came up behind her with a glass as she poured herself some.
‘I wouldn’t mind some of that when you’re done,’ he said.
‘Oh, sure…’ Posy filled his glass for him with a vague smile.
‘Me too…’
She looked round to see Jackson standing behind her.
‘Oh… Where’s your glass?’
‘I left it in the other room. Maybe I should get a clean one…’
As Obi-Wan moved aside to let him at a tray stacked with tumblers, Jackson reached across Posy, so close she could smell whatever cologne he’d spritzed before he’d put on his stormtrooper suit. It wasn’t half bad. And there was something quite engaging about him, now that she looked again.
‘Mind if I hang around here for a bit?’ Jackson asked. ‘With you, I mean? It’s getting a bit crowded in there.’
‘There are literally about six people in there,’ Posy said.
‘Yes, but have you seen the size of that room? That’s five too many, even by the standards of a very generous estate-agent listing.’
Posy had to laugh, even though finding herself having to laugh annoyed her too. Was he trying to make her laugh, butter her up?
‘I didn’t get your name before,’ he continued.
‘That’s because I didn’t tell you.’
‘Hmm. Would you tell me now? I don’t want to be referring to you as that fit Ewok because that’s some weird oxymoron right there.’
Posy laughed again. ‘I think the idea that you might have to refer to me like that is funny. I’d certainly be entertained.’
‘That’s because you are the fit Ewok in question. Come on, you know mine…’
‘Alright. It’s Posy. And don’t laugh, or say it’s cute, or ask if that’s really my name.’
‘I wasn’t going to do any of those things. I do like it, though. So, Posy… why haven’t I seen you at one of Marshall’s parties before?’
‘Who’s Marshall?’
He grinned. ‘Well, I suppose that explains why I’ve never seen you at one of them. Marshall is currently swishing around in a black cape and putting on the lamest impression of Darth Vader you’ve ever heard.’
‘So if he’s so lame how do you know him?’
‘I didn’t say he was lame. Just his impression. I was at uni with him; he’s a good guy.’
‘Oh, that’s like me and Marella.’
‘The best friends you’ll ever make,’ he said.
‘That’s the truth.’
‘So, where do you normally go if you don’t come to Marshall’s parties?’
‘Why do you need to know?’
‘I don’t…’ He gave her a steamy smile and she took another good swig of her punch; it was beginning to feel like a potent combination. He dropped his voice and made it huskier. ‘But I’d like to.’
Wasn’t he meant to be in an advanced state of flirting with Marella right now? Why was he here, flirting with her? There was no doubt he was flirting with her.
She handed him the jug, feeling more than a little thrown by this sudden turn of events.
‘Thanks. How about I top you up as well?’
Posy looked down at her cup and saw that she’d drunk half already, though she couldn’t remember doing it.
‘I suppose that wouldn’t be so bad.’
He held her gaze as he filled her glass.
‘Whoa!’ she said, glancing down to see her tumbler was almost overflowing.
He laughed. ‘Sorry. It’s just… I never noticed in the light in the other room… your eyes… they’re green.’
‘Murky green – like pondwater,’ she said. ‘In most lights they look brown.’
‘They’re… I like them. They’re not like pondwater… they’re sort of stunning.’
‘Thank you.’ Posy looked away, embarrassment, pleasure and a new spark of lust fighting for control of her brain. If this was his come-on technique, he was doing a good job of getting through defences that she’d thought she’d toughened up significantly since the last time some chancer had got through them. Whether it would turn out to be another disaster or something far nicer there was no way to tell, but she couldn’t deny she was enjoying the attention.
‘Marella…’ she managed to mumble. ‘She’s on her own…’
‘She’s talking to Luke Skywalker,’ he said. ‘I made sure she had someone to chat with while I came to get a drink.’
‘And is she expecting you back?’
‘Well, I did say I might be some time… and she did ask if I was coming to see you… and I said I might be, and she said, go get her, tiger…’
He gave her a sheepish grin.
Posy laughed. ‘She never misses a trick. Thank you for making sure she was OK… tiger…’
It was his turn to laugh. It was an easy, relaxed kind of laugh and Posy liked it. Maybe this party wouldn’t be so bad after all.
* * *
Carmel had commented that Jackson was keen. Posy supposed that he was, but she didn’t mind. He’d called her the day after the party to see if she fancied going out again. It hadn’t taken her long to decide that her answer was an emphatic yes, and as she’d got dressed that morning to spend the day with him, she wondered if he’d be as much fun as that first night. Most people would be a more fun version of themselves at a party because it was easier to be witty and interesting with a ready supply of booze and a heady atmosphere. Today it was just the two of them, stone-cold sober and in broad daylight – a very different prospect.
They met on the South Bank in a square shaded by trees. A short walk away stood the squat, concrete blocks of the Tate. Jackson complimented her dress, kissed her lightly on the cheek and checked his watch.
‘We’ve got time before we go in,’ he said. ‘Want to get something to eat first?’
‘It’s a bit early for me,’ Posy said. ‘But it’s roasting and I wouldn’t say no to an ice lolly.’
She nodded towards a gleaming silver refreshment truck parked at the far end of the square overlooking the Thames. It was one of those retro fifties-styled converted motor homes, colourful awning shading it from the glare of the sun.
‘Sounds good to me,’ Jackson said. ‘Come on, my treat.’
‘So,’ Posy said as they walked over to it, ‘have you brought me to an art exhibition because I told you I was an interior designer and you thought I might do art exhibitions all the time?’<
br />
He laughed. ‘I’m that transparent?’
‘Yes, but I like the train of thought. It shows that you were listening when I told you about myself.’
He grinned as he ordered their lollies and then handed one to Posy. She unwrapped it and began to suck, a burst of chemically enhanced, ice-cold orange hitting her tongue and making her smile. Eating an ice lolly always made her feel like a kid and this was no exception. It was a much appreciated refreshment too, considering it was the hottest day of the year so far, the heat burning up through the soles of her shoes and the sun glittering on the surface of the water as the pleasure boats ploughed up and down the river.
‘I mean,’ Posy continued as they began to head for the shade of a loose clump of trees, ‘I’d have been down for a pizza and the new Marvel film.’
‘I wish you’d said that before I tried to be all sophisticated for you.’
‘I’m glad I didn’t.’
‘So I get brownie points?’
‘Absolutely. Tons of them.’
He grinned, then bit the end from his ice pop and winced as the cold burned through his front teeth.
‘Serves you right,’ Posy said, laughing lightly at him.
‘I never did have any patience,’ he said ruefully. ‘My mum always says it will be my undoing but I didn’t realise she meant death by ice lolly.’
‘I’m actually looking forward to seeing this exhibit,’ Posy said. ‘I haven’t been to one in ages.’
‘No?’
‘Too busy. Last time I came there was some world photography my mum wanted to see. That must have been about three years ago. I feel a bit ashamed actually, being in my line of work and not taking a bit of interest in current art.’
‘I suppose it’s a bit like a busman’s holiday for you.’ Jackson bit the last of his lolly off and then dropped the stick in the bin. Posy resisted the urge to tease him about how fast he’d eaten it.
‘I suppose you could see it like that,’ she said. ‘My boss would call it professional development. Maybe that’s why she never promoted me – didn’t think I was dedicated enough.’
‘Well, you’ll be able to do what you want soon, won’t you?’
The Little Orchard on the Lane: An absolutely perfect and uplifting romantic comedy Page 14
