Once Saskia had realised that Crystal was well and truly gone, she’d shown some remorse, and had plied him with drink until he’d been so blind drunk that he couldn’t stand up. Luckily he’d hired a limo, so for the requisite bundle of cash, the driver had been more than happy to drop them all off en-route, anywhere that they pleased. Crystal’s brother Jeremy really wasn’t such a bad guy at all, he decided as he turned over and attempted to go back to sleep.
He’d spent half of the night with him under the table in a drunken stupor, commiserating the fact that the beautiful mermaid had run off with the other pirate, until he’d noticed that Saskia was really quite hot. The idiot had then decided that he liked kittens and Jeremy had decided to go off and play with the cat. Now there was a recipe for disaster. Phil had tried to dissuade him, but once a few glasses of champagne and a couple of beers had woven their magic, poor Jeremy had been convinced that Saskia was the girl for him. Phil knew that she ate nice guys like him for breakfast, but he supposed that he couldn’t fault the guy, for giving it a go. He’d been tempted himself, just once, a long time ago.
Inside the farmhouse, gran needed the loo. They’d put her in the front room, because it was easier than trying to get her and her plaster cast up the stairs. Now she’d had enough. Lolly was going to have to come out of there, or she’d be leaving a puddle all over the floor.
She bashed on the door with the end of her walking stick.“Lolly, come out of there, or else,” she demanded imperiously.“I’ve had enough of your whining girl, pull yourself together, I need the lavatory.”
To her greatest surprise, the bolt shot back on the door and Lolly slid out. Shamefaced and blotchy with her hair all awry, she threw herself into her gran’s open arms.
“Oh Gran, I’ve been such a fool,” she wailed.
“Never mind dumpling, we’ve all been there, in our time. He wasn’t the right man for you my dear,” she soothed, silently thinking ‘and he’s got his hands full, with that other granddaughter of mine’.
“I loved him so much gran, but he wasn’t the man that I thought he was,” Lolly sobbed.
Gran rummaged in her pocket for a spare tissue and handed it to Lolly to wipe her eyes on.“Now, now dear, don’t take on so. That Jazz Silver has a lot to answer for.”
Lolly blinked, hard. It wasn’t Jazz that she was complaining about. She’d already worked out that he was highly unsuitable. It was that hairy guy with the dress and the lack of underpants that she was crying about now. He’d seduced her in the rockery and then left in the limousine. When she’d begged to go with him, he’d told her that the one he wanted had ‘buggered off’ with the vampire, and he’d only settled on her because she had nice tits. She felt that she’d been let down, twice in a row.
Ruth was already online at six o’clock. She couldn’t wait for the order that she’d just placed to arrive. She returned to the master bedroom and woke a startled Mark. She’d never had much need for a computer, or a straight laced husband, until now.
The contract cleaners arrived at the farmhouse at ten minutes to eight. They’d already been given their instructions to fold the table linen, wipe down the plastic tables and hoover the carpet, ready for the hire company to collect.
The first person into the tent was Maude. Bernard had been on duty, up at the factory, late last night, so they’d not been able to attend the ‘do’. It was a bit pricey for their pocket, if she was honest anyway. So she was happy to clock a bit of overtime, it was double time on Sundays, so it made it all worthwhile. She started with the main table, the big one, right at the front. There was one single gold envelope, unopened on the table, covered in party streamers and confetti and hardly visible at all, beneath the large flower arrangement which adorned the centre of the table.
She picked it up curiously. What was this then? A booby prize, a few spare raffle tickets, you found all sorts, discarded, after a night like last night.
She pulled out a single scrap of paper. Folded once, it read, ‘Crystal, my life is incomplete without you. Just name the time and the place, and I’m yours.’ It was signed Phil, and it had a one way, open ended ticket to LA, attached.
As she cleaned the rest of the tables, her mind pondered the problem. Phil? Phil? She didn’t know anyone called Phil. It was obvious who it was aimed at, but did the recipient want it? That was the question. She knew she should hand it in, return it to its rightful owner, but she had a sister in LA that she hadn’t seen in a long time, and Crystal had left it on the table, unwanted, as such. She tucked the envelope discreetly into her apron pocket. No need to make up her mind just yet. She could decide later, what to do.
Bertie held the negative up towards the softly diffused red light. He rubbed at his eyes, they felt red and gritty, he was getting a bit old for all this. He’d not worked an all-nighter in years. However, since he’d decided to do his own legwork, it was up to him to get the results out there asap. So what had he snapped then?
There was a stunning one of Saskia looking delighted and wrapping her arms around a startled Crystal. He had several of Phil in the rockery with that posh debutante and another one of him showing his tackle to a surprised vicar’s wife.
Those were the ones he’d been paid to deliver, well, almost. They had the right people in them, just not necessarily in the right combinations, but that was life. You snapped the pictures as things happened, and then decided what to do with them afterwards, that was his game. Aside from that, there were the few shots that he’d snapped on his own account. He surveyed the prints, already pegged out and drying off. The only one he didn’t have on film was Jazz and that was because no one had actually known he was there. He’d overheard the mermaid telling one of the pirates that he was the mystery vampire who’d spirited Crystal away, right under the noses of everyone else.
It had been a bit tricky, getting the information about who was who, out of the vicar’s wife, but he thought he had it all straight now. He’d had to correct her, on the identity of the pink ugly sister and the cat, but she’d been very helpful as to the identity of the others.
He wondered which shots to pass on to Saskia, and which ones to keep for himself. He had a feeling that he had a scoop here, especially the one of her snogging that pirate in the back of the limo.
Chapter14
The Dog And Duck
Finally Crystal had worked up enough courage to face Saskia alone. She had no idea how she’d found the reserves of strength needed to pick up the phone, but she had seen the sedan parked up outside the pub in the village, and she knew that she just had to get this over and done with, once and for all. The time to face her demons had arrived. Without the support of Jazz last night, she had no idea where she might have ended up. His strength had given her the resolve to face her past. Bold and brave, she had to do this, not just for him, she thought, but for us.
Reg, the landlord, answered the phone himself. He didn’t seem too surprised to find Crystal on the other end. He’d been up most of the night now, what with the comings and goings in the early hours of the morning. It had all finally fallen silent at about five o’clock. He’d only had another two hours sleep, before he’d struggled out of bed to begin the process of opening up for the Saturday lunchtime trade. There was just enough time now to read the early morning paper and get himself a bit of breakfast, in peace.
He’d taken their booking himself. So he knew the answer.
“Saskia is in room seven, Phil is in room six, and the assistant, Carrie, is in room five,” he told her.
Crystal managed a mumbled “Thanks.”
Reg was barely listening. “The rest of the crew have taken over the annexe and the Billiard room. They’re camped out in sleeping bags, all over the floor.”
Crystal guessed that Reg would make a tidy sum out of these past two days, it was worth the inconvenience to him. She made sympathetic noises anyway.
“Nice piece of skirt, that Carrie,” he mentioned, as an afterthought.
Crystal wondered w
hat Carrie would make of that. Apart from the fact that Reg was portly and balding, she happened to know that sexist remarks were one of Carrie’s pet hates.
“I wouldn’t mention that where Carrie can hear you Reg,” she cautioned, “Now, just pass on a message to room seven, please, to say that I’m on my way over. I’ll be there in approximately half an hour.”
“Sure, sure. No problem Miss Crystal. I’ll pass the message on for you, right now,” he agreed.
In room number seven, Phil laid back in the single bed and eyed the champagne for a second time. Trust Saskia to order bubbly on tap, wherever she happened to be. No wonder her hotel bills were always sky high. Bloody good job he’d already told the landlord to let out his room last night to whoever wanted it, she and her pirate would have had a difficult job trying to squeeze into this tiny bed of hers.
He watched the fly spattered fan, as it revolved around on the ceiling above him, until the motion reminded him of just how much alcohol he’d imbibed last night. He couldn’t even remember if he’d got as far as giving Crystal the envelope, with the open ended invitation and the plane ticket. The strange thing was, now he thought about it, he couldn’t even remember what they had in common any more.
It was as if seeing her again, last night, had somehow unlocked the hold that she had over him, he was no longer in her thrall. He scratched his belly, through the thin fabric of the dress, and wondered how he could have changed so much, in just one night.
He was already contemplating the future without her, when the phone rang loudly, its shrill summons enough to crack his skull open, he felt like his brain was already exposed to the elements, dangling outside his head on the end of a rough piece of string. He winced as he listened to Reg’s garbled message and replaced the handset carefully, to vault cleanly out of bed, in two seconds flat, hangover or not. He hadn’t even brushed his teeth or washed yet today. He probably smelled like a brewery, or worse. And then there was the ice queen, of course, he’d remembered her too, now he was properly awake.
He decided to meet Crystal downstairs in the lobby. He didn’t want to be here in the room with her, alone. Things had changed, quite dramatically last night. Life had moved on.
Crystal saw Phil waiting for her in the lobby, long before he saw her It gave her a moment to scrutinise him, from afar. He looked really bad. His hair was over long, curling on the top of his collar, his skin was pallid white and he looked like he was nursing one hell of a hangover, his eyes were bloodshot and rimmed with fatigue.
She squared her shoulders, her expression fixed, she may as well set things straight with him, too, while she was here. She marched in through the door, looking a lot braver than she actually felt.
He looked guilty, she thought, as he stared at the toe of his shoe and rattled the loose change in his pocket. She’d seen that stance before.
“Phil,” she acknowledged.
He took a hesitant step in her direction, intending to give her a kiss. It was an awkward movement, which he quickly changed into a handshake, as he proffered his hand.
Crystal looked at the outstretched hand, and positively blanked it. “We’re a bit beyond that Phil, don’t you think?” she stated quite baldly.
He dropped his hand loosely down to his side. God this was awkward. He had no idea where to start.
Reg was mopping tables, in the saloon bar and keeping an eye on developments next door at the same time. He wondered how Crystal knew this guy. The body language was all wrong. The guy looked cowed and submissive and Crystal looked like she was about to tear him off a strip too. He didn’t want them having a barney in here, at this time of the morning. He had enough to do, running around after the other guests. They’d all bloody well swapped beds in the night, too. That posh bit who was giving the orders, had sent down for a champagne breakfast at eight o’clock. What did she think this was, a bloody hotel?
Bet Crystal didn’t know her brother was up there, in the boss lady’s bed. He chuckled to himself. There was always a bit of a fall out from the Hunt ‘do’, but it looked like this year had been better than most. He’d certainly made a pretty penny out of the whole thing. The regulars would be in here later, picking over who said what, to whom, and catching up on what had been going on. They’d put more cash than usual, over the bar tonight.
He heard the Aston, long before it came into sight. He’d heard the rumours about Crystal and Jazz, and he looked nervously through to the lobby. They’d stopped fighting now, by the looks of it, and any moment now he was going to kiss her. He was leaning in already.
With a publican’s nose for trouble, he threw down his cloth and ambled through towards the bar, attempting to head Jazz off on his way through.
But Jazz didn’t park the car up, in the car park, as Reg had expected. He merely stopped outside in the high street and left the engine idling, as he stared in through the front room windows, catching a clear view of Crystal and Phil, outlined perfectly in the early morning light.
When he’d seen enough, he dipped the throttle and threw the car into gear, admiring the throaty growl that the engine distributed. As the car picked up, and surged forwards in one smooth motion, the roses and croissants which he’d placed so carefully on the passenger seat beside him, slid easily over the smooth leather and landed in an unsteady heap on the floor. He wouldn’t have any need those now, he realised bitterly, as he headed back the way that he had come.
What a bloody fool he was. He knew that she’d never change. Why had he stopped at the village shop, to pick up the makings of a romantic breakfast? Why had he bothered? He’d had some soppy notion that one night in his bed had been enough show Crystal that their future lay together. That’s what.
He thought that she’d woken up and run scared, back home. Fat chance. While he’d been buying her champagne and roses, she’d been busy making up with her boyfriend, leaving him the sucker, looking in from the cold. He would never have known, either, if he hadn’t stopped outside the pub to wave to Bernard, who was very sheepishly walking a tiny, fluffy white dog, with an enormous blue bow in its long furry hair. Odd, he’d never mentioned owning a dog, before.
Maybe he’d get a dog himself. They were more reliable than women. What a bloody night that had been, last night. First Olivia had turned into a fruitcake and gone and locked herself in the lavatory, then Crystal had turned into a red hot siren, right under his nose. He wasn’t sure who had seduced whom up there in the hayloft, just feet away from the rest of the party. Hot and feisty, that was the girl he’d bedded last night. And dammit, he’d expected to wake up this morning with her in his bed.
He wanted to rail at Crystal. for being so stupid and falling for lover boy’s charm, and he wanted to punch the guy’s face in, for stealing his girl. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d actually wanted to see the girl again, especially after a red hot one night stand.
He’d lived with the yoga teacher for several months, and she’d left her mark when she departed, but she was the only one, in a very long time. All that remained of their life together now, was that one garish packet of strawberry flavour condoms. Odd that he’d found them stashed in his office drawer, just the other day. She’d been special, in the days before he’d become hard bitten and cynical.
He smiled, she’d put presents in his lunch box all of the time. He never knew what he might find in amongst the alfafa sprouts or couscous. The condoms had been her teasing reminder, that she wanted him home from the office early that day. He smiled ruefully, her ruse had worked, too. Then a few weeks later, she’d run off with the gardener and he still didn’t know why.
He kept the package now, as a tiny reminder that there was more to life, than work. She’d brought out the softer, more frivolous side of his nature, he missed that occasionally, even now. She’d been a true free spirit, the complete antithesis of everything he was and everything he represented. Something like Crystal, really, in some ways. Totally unique.
Crystal hadn’t noticed the Aston at first,
she’d been otherwise engaged. She’d thought that Phil was merely intending to kiss her cheek, as he’d leaned in for the final goodbye. Instead, he’d gone for one last desperate kiss, turning his head at the last moment, to fasten his mouth firmly, over her own. She’d kissed him back, only for a moment, but long enough to realise that the magic was gone.
He knew it too, the moment that his lips touched hers. He’d released her just as quickly as she’d broken contact with him. Neither of them now had any more to say. Some things just ended that way.
It was then, that Crystal’s numb brain registered the surge of the Aston’s powerful engine and she turned her head, just in time to see the tail lights disappearing off along the road. Jazz had applied full throttle, with little regard for the weather or the road conditions, and the car had roared off carelessly, with the back wheels sliding out on the snow and the ice, furiously gunning the engine, heading for home.
Crystal’s horrified squeal was completely drowned out by Lolly’s agitated ranting. She’d walked in through the back door, looking for Phil and clocked an eyeful of him apparently snogging Crystal. The sight was just too much for her, after the night she’d just had.
“How dare you,” she yelled, as she flew across the floor and attempted to slap Phil’s face.
“How dare you,” she repeated, as he parried her blow.
She turned to Crystal. “You hussy, Crystal. I thought you were my cousin, my friend. It’s bad enough that you ran off with Reginald last night, in full view of everyone. Then I drive over here this morning, to find my lover, and I find you in his arms as well.”She dissolved into floods of tears.
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