Christmas at Tiffany's

by Karen Swan

  She unpacked quickly – she was a mistress of the capsule wardrobe, and her honeymoon bags had already been sent ahead to the hotel – and took a shower, sitting down on the bed afterwards to towel-dry her hair. She felt the mattress sink beneath her weight and she lay down – just for a moment – to relax her body. She’d had no rest at all on the flight. Thanks to the socialite Katrina Holland buying up the entire Maddy Foxton collection and flaunting it round town like her prize shih-tzus, Hartford Communications’ star was rising again. Tory Burch had asked her to deliver a pitch when she came back from honeymoon and, accordingly, Kelly had worked from wheels-up to touchdown. She felt shattered, and the bridesmaid situation wasn’t doing anything to relax her. If she could just lie still for a moment . . .

  A sudden shriek pierced her calm, and she sat bolt upright, dislodging the towel turban on her head. What was that?

  She waited, tensed. Then she heard it again. It was coming from down the corridor.

  Throwing her legs off the bed, she raced down the hallway, coming to an abrupt halt outside Suzy’s old bedroom. She put her ear to the door. There were sounds of movement inside.

  ‘Suze! It’s me, Kelly. Are you awake? Is everything okay?’

  There was no reply. She opened the door

  ‘Suzy . . .’ she faltered as she saw her lying on the bed with Archie sitting beside her.

  There was a big splash of water in the middle of the carpet, and Kelly scanned the room for an upturned jug or something. But there wasn’t one. Then Suzy started panting and Archie started counting the minutes on his father’s temperamental watch.

  ‘Oh my God!’ Kelly cried as she took in the situation. This couldn’t be happening – it couldn’t. She wasn’t due for another week. The wedding was in eighteen hours.

  Archie looked up at her and broke off from counting. ‘Kelly, get Hattie quickly! Suzy’s waters have broken.’

  Kelly dashed off to get some towels from the airing cupboard, then ran down the stairs, two at a time, her heart pounding nineteen to the dozen. She raced into the kitchen but there was no one in there. Just a large tray laid with scones and jam covered in cling film, and a giant pot of tea. Where was Hattie?

  Maybe she should get a doctor first and find Hattie afterwards? Kelly looked around for a phone, but Hattie only had the old-fashioned wall-mounted kind with curly cable, and she had no idea how to work it.

  She ran through to the drawing room, but that too was empty and silent, except for the steady beat of the carriage clock on the mantelpiece. Her phone rang and she answered it automatically.

  ‘Yes?’ she shouted, panicking as she wondered where to try next. Knowing Hattie, she’d still be in the garden, but there were twenty-two acres to cover. She ran out to the front drive, to where Hattie had been when she’d arrived, but it was deserted.

  ‘Kelly? Thank God you’ve picked up! I just want to talk. Please! No one will even speak to me.’

  ‘Nooks?’ Kelly stopped dead and looked at the phone in horror. She and Suzy had made a pledge not to hear her voice again. Not after what she’d done to Cass.

  Kelly closed her eyes, summoning up resolve. ‘I can’t talk to you, Anouk. You know what you did.’

  ‘But if I could just explai—’

  ‘No! There is no explanation that excuses it! And I cannot deal with this right now! Suzy’s in labour and I have to get a doctor. Goodbye!’

  She hung up just as she heard a car rattling over the cattle grid and saw Cassie’s smile through the back window.

  ‘Oh, thank God you’re here!’ Kelly cried dramatically, clutching her in a ferocious hug before she’d even shut the car door.

  ‘What’s wrong? What’s the matter?’ Cassie asked her, shocked by the welcome.

  ‘You’re the last bridesmaid standing,’ she said. ‘Suzy’s gone into labour! And I can’t find Hattie. The whole thing’s a calamity!’

  The clatter from the cattle grid alerted them to the arrival of another car, and they both turned. Kelly refixed her turban and pulled her dressing gown tighter around her. A small tomato-red mini was roaring up the drive, sending gravel flying behind it like the spray behind a speedboat.

  They watched as Henry unfolded himself, cricking out his neck as he straightened up. He was in jeans and a pink-striped polo shirt, and Cassie felt her stomach flip at the sight of him again. She hadn’t been able to stop thinking about him, her fingers constantly brushing her lips at the memory of the kiss. Okay, so he had cut and run instantly, leaving her alone again, but it was tangible proof that she hadn’t been imagining what was happening between them.

  He grabbed an overnight bag from the passenger seat and she swallowed hard, waiting for the look in his eyes that would confirm to her there was something going on. They could neither of them deny it any more.

  But Henry strode towards them in ominous silence, a thunderous look upon his face. Cassie felt her blood pool at her feet.

  ‘Hi, Henry,’ Kelly said, turning with him as he marched past, eyes on the door.

  ‘Yeah. Hi, Kelly,’ he muttered, not bothering to pause. ‘Congratulations for tomorrow.’

  There was a moment’s silence.

  ‘What was that about?’ Kelly whispered finally as he disappeared inside the house. ‘I’ve never seen him like that before.’

  Cassie couldn’t utter a single word.

  Chapter Forty-Seven

  They paced around the waiting room like lab rats – repetitive and stressed.

  ‘It’s been five hours now,’ Kelly cried in exasperation. ‘What can be taking so long?’

  Cassie shot her a look. ‘Hello – did you see the size of her tummy? I’d be hesitant about pushing out a baby that big too.’

  ‘Archie looked sick, did you see him?’

  ‘Men always do,’ Cassie replied blankly, collapsing in a heap on a cold plastic chair.

  Henry, who was reading an old copy of National Geographic and turning down the corners of the pages of all the places it featured that he’d been to, looked up at her coldly, unimpressed by the sweeping statement. She felt herself chill beneath his gaze, before he looked away and went back to his magazine.

  Cassie looked over to check that Kelly hadn’t seen the silent rebuke, but she was smacking her fist against a vending machine trying to release a can of Coke that was stuck on the coils. Cassie looked back at Henry again, his cheeks a deep red as he concentrated on reading the magazine, his eyes like lasers on the words. She couldn’t understand what was going on, could scarcely believe it was only two days since they’d swum in the ponds together, his body pressed up against hers, his breath against her ear And their kiss, that kiss . . . quite possibly the kiss of her life. He had instigated it. Not her. And he was the one engaged. Not her. Why was he so angry with her?

  She heard Kelly give up on the Coke and come over.

  ‘You look tired,’ she said to Cassie as though noticing for the first time.

  ‘Do I?’

  ‘Yeah.’ Kelly sat down next to her on the hard plastic seat and gave a weary sigh. This was not how she’d envisaged her last night before marriage.

  They sat in easy silence, Cassie trying very hard not to look at Henry. She noticed the nail polish on her toes was chipped, and she slid her feet beneath the chair in case Kelly should see. She hadn’t had a professional pedicure since leaving Paris; Kelly and Anouk’s fastidious beauty routines were beginning to slip. Before she knew it, she’d be back to nails like rhino horn.

  ‘Of course, I’m not the only one whose plans are going to be disrupted by the early arrival of Cupcake,’ Kelly said after a while.

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘Well, where are you going to live? Their place is only two bedrooms, right?’

  Cassie shrugged. ‘Yes. But I was already on the sofa from Monday anyway. The decorators are coming in this weekend to turn it into a nursery.’

  ‘Timing!’

  ‘Yeah.’

  ‘So what are you going to do
longer term? You can’t crash on the sofa every night, especially if they’re going to be up with the baby – which they so will be!’

  ‘I know.’ Cassie looked around the waiting room, at the NHS posters Blu-Tacked on to the wall and the trolley-bed by the swing doors, ready for when Suzy came out of the delivery room. ‘I’ve got the money from my trust to put on a deposit somewhere. I guess it’s time to strike out on my own and get my own place.’

  ‘But where’s that gonna be? New York? Paris? Or London? You’ve lived in them all now. You have to decide where you’re going to settle.’

  ‘Well, not Paris.’ Cassie shook her head. ‘Too many bad memories. It’s not as if Anouk and I would be hooking up for lunches, is it?’

  Kelly shrugged and patted her on the arm. ‘So how about New York? You know it’s where you were happiest.’

  Cassie furrowed her brow quizzically. From what she remembered, she’d spent much of it confused and crying as she struggled to come to terms with the end of her marriage. She knew what Kelly meant, though. They’d had happy times there. ‘I don’t know,’ she sighed. ‘You and Brett are getting married tomorrow. I don’t want to get in the way—’

  ‘Hey! You’re not going to be sharing a room with us, if that’s what you’re worried about,’ Kelly teased. ‘Anyway, I’m moving in to his place. You could rent my apartment off me. I’ll charge you nominal rent. And Bas is there. How thrilled would he be to get you back?’

  Cassie gave a pensive smile. She had hoped to see Bas for drinks tonight at the pub on the market square where he and the groom’s party were staying – she could have done with his advice on what to do about Henry. But that wasn’t going to happen now. Not tonight. She would have to try and get him alone at the wedding.

  ‘So it’s between New York and London, then. That’s the shortlist?’

  ‘Here?’ Cassie repeated, her eyes flickering up towards Henry. His mouth had set into an even grimmer line. ‘No. No, I don’t think so,’ she said quietly. As much as she wanted to stay close to Suzy and Arch, she didn’t fancy watching Henry and Lacey settle down to marital bliss together. His behaviour towards her – silent and scornful – was a categorical rebuttal of the kiss she thought had meant something. He hated her for it.

  ‘Then it’s New York, right?’ Kelly exclaimed, delightedly holding her hands out wide. ‘You’ve chosen New York by a process of elimination.’

  ‘I have?’

  ‘Oh, wait till I tell Bas!’ she said, jumping up and grabbing her phone from her bag. ‘It’s back to black, baby!’ She looked over at Henry. ‘Hey! Did you hear, Henry? Cass is coming to live in New York! I won!’

  Henry looked up at them and tossed the magazine scornfully on to the seat next to him. Cassie quickly put a hand on Kelly’s arm as she began punching in numbers on her phone.

  ‘Kell, you’re not allowed to use your phone in here.’ She shook her head. ‘And I haven’t decided properly yet. Let’s just talk about it later.’

  ‘Well, I think it’s great news,’ Henry said levelly, crossing his arms over his chest. ‘I’m delighted.’

  Cassie stared at him as his words floated over and punched her in the stomach. He was delighted? Delighted she was going? Well, of course he was! He didn’t want to have to look at her and remember how he’d cheated on his fiancée. He didn’t want his moment of weakness thrown in his face every time he popped in to see his sister and best friend, did he?

  She felt her own anger stir and stood up suddenly, not trusting herself not to give away their dirty little secret. Because to him it obviously was that. He clearly couldn’t even bear to look at her, to be reminded of what he’d done.

  ‘Are you okay, Cass?’ Kelly asked, looking between the two of them.

  ‘I’m going to get a coffee,’ she muttered to Kelly. ‘Shout if the midwife comes out.’

  She marched down the corridor, following the green and yellow lines painted along it that would take her to X-ray and Haematology respectively. Turning left round a corner, she walked over to the coffee machine and leant against it for a moment, trying to calm down. Her heart was pounding and she knew that if she felt her cheeks they would be hot to the touch. Salty tears stung her eyes, but she refused to let them fall. She’d had enough of being made the scapegoat. If Henry had issues in his relationship with Lacey, then he could bloody well take responsibility for them and stop dumping his problems on her.

  She reached into her jeans pocket for some change and stabbed the buttons for a coffee. Behind her, she heard footsteps approach and stop a metre away, and she spun round, ready for the fight.

  ‘It was just a bloody kiss! Get over it!’ she cried.

  ‘Hi.’

  She froze.

  ‘Please. I just want a minute . . . there are some things I need to say.’

  ‘What are you doing here?’ Cassie asked.

  Anouk shrugged. ‘I rang Kelly. She picked up by mistake, I think. She said Suzy was in labour and then hung up. Obviously I knew you were all here for the wedding tomorrow, so . . . it was easy enough to find the nearest hospital.’

  ‘How long have you been here?’

  ‘I’ve just arrived this minute. I came on the first Eurostar.’

  She looked exhausted. Her hair was limp and lacklustre, and there was no make-up at all on that beautiful face. She was pale and drawn, and she had also lost weight in the two months since they’d last seen – squared up to – each other. Her lips were cracked and she was wearing a shapeless . . . fleece. That was the most shocking thing of all.

  ‘I’m sorry, but I don’t think this is the time, Anouk,’ Cassie replied tersely, turning back to the coffee machine.

  But Anouk grabbed her by the arm. ‘On the contrary, I think it is the only time. If you don’t talk to me now . . .’ Her voice cracked and she shook her head. ‘Suzy is having her baby; Kelly is getting married tomorrow. These are events we’ve been waiting our whole lives for, sharing our lives for . . .’

  ‘Shame you forgot about that then when you decided to keep my husband’s secret.’

  ‘I know, I know,’ she said, staring at the floor. ‘It was unforgiveable. Everything you said that night, it was true. All of it.’ She gave a small nod. ‘I just didn’t want to face it.’

  She looked up at Cassie, her pale face like a sad moon, her dark eyes like limpid pools. ‘The thought of being without Jacques, even the little bit of him that I got to have . . . I didn’t think I was strong enough to bear it any other way. I can’t remember a time when he wasn’t in my life. Like you and the girls.’ She looked up again and Cassie saw the red rims of her eyes. She looked like she’d been crying for years. It occurred to Cassie suddenly that she probably had.

  ‘He was the love of my life, Cassie. I had my chance with him, but I threw it away. I was careless about him. I thought I made things passionate and exciting. But he got bored with my games. So he married Florence. My friend Florence. He knew what it would do to me – what it did do to me – but I always thought he would leave her for me eventually. He’d loved me first, longest. I thought he’d loved me hardest. Only when I heard him dismiss me to you . . . well, it was the first time I realized I’m nothing to him.’

  Cassie stared at her, realizing that what she had taken for Anouk’s Parisian cool had actually been the strain of living a lie – keeping up the pretence with a decoy boyfriend, her fragile self-esteem that Claude had shaken so easily, her near-neurotic emphasis on grooming and seduction. For the first time, Cassie saw her friend’s pain written all over her as clearly as if it had been tattooed.

  ‘Does Florence know?’ she asked.

  Anouk nodded. ‘I have not seen or heard from Jacques since, so I can’t be sure.’ She gave a small shrug but it came out as more of a judder. ‘I think she has probably always known. We will continue to be polite when we see each other. Of course she will have forgiven him.’

  Cassie raised an eyebrow. ‘Of course,’ she echoed, unable to keep the sarcasm out of h
er voice.

  Anouk looked up. ‘I didn’t mean . . . I didn’t mean to imply that you should have forgiven Gil too. I think you were right not to, actually.’

  ‘You do?’ She well remembered the dismayed reactions at the dinner party, Jacques’ scorn.

  ‘Yes. He was never right for you.’

  Cassie stared at her. Is that what she thought? That she had left simply to find someone better?

  ‘I didn’t leave Gil for my benefit, Anouk,’ she cried suddenly, her hand smacked across her heart. ‘God knows it would have been easier to stay – to have just refused to leave, swallowed my pride and thrown Wiz out – as was my right!’

  Anouk looked confused. ‘So then . . . why did you go?’

  ‘Because there was only ever one possible healthy outcome – the chance of a stable family life for a little boy every bit as innocent in the whole bloody charade as me! Rory’s my godson, Anouk. I loved him. I was there when he was born! But my marriage stopped being about me the second he was born. Even if Gil and I had been able to patch things up, how could I have knowingly kept his father from him?’

  Her voice choked and Anouk stared, horrified. ‘I didn’t . . .’

  Cassie looked away, staring at the far wall, blinking furiously.

  ‘So I was wrong again,’ Anouk said quietly, in a small voice. ‘I . . . I am so sorry.’ She shrugged hopelessly. ‘I was so desperate to justify what I was doing. When I realized that Wiz was doing to you what I was doing to Florence . . .’ She bit her lip. ‘I didn’t want to see it. I couldn’t bear to face it. I was so frightened of losing him. Then, when you found out and left Gil . . . it actually gave me hope. I thought maybe Florence would leave Jacques. Perhaps that was how it would work after all. He wouldn’t leave her, but she would leave him. I could get him back again if I just waited.’ She shook her head. ‘I had lost sight of all reason, all friendship.’