by Rhoda Baxter
For once, Tom didn't bother to correct her. He shrugged.
"Does that mean that you two aren't together anymore?" Evelyn lifted her mug toward Tom.
"We weren't together in the first place," Tom said, with an exaggerated display of patience. "She's a free agent. Always has been."
"Well I'm glad you're really not together now," said Evelyn. "She wasn't good for you."
Tom rolled his eyes.
Priya was sorting out the notes from the coins. "There's a cheque in here." She picked up a folded piece of paper.
"Oh, that's from Mr. Farrier. He said he had such a wonderful time that he thought he'd make a small donation."
"He's the dancing man," said Evelyn.
"Oh yes. Dilan mentioned last night. He said it reminded him of some of the Sri Lankan discos he's DJ'd for." Priya unfolded the paper and gave a little shriek.
"What?" Evelyn grabbed the cheque out of Priya's fingers. "Oh my."
"What?" Tom and Stevie spoke at the same time.
"It's for five thousand pounds!"
"Let me see?" said Tom.
Evelyn laid the cheque in the middle of the table.
"Well, it looks genuine," Tom said, after examining it. "He hasn't signed it 'Mickey Mouse' or anything."
"He must have really enjoyed himself." Priya sounded dazed. "Goodness."
"Fantastic." Stevie grinned. Since the ball had more than broken even, all the proceeds from the charity box was pure profit. "There's some writing on the back." She turned it over. "Please name a ward the Cherry Farrier Ward." She raised her eyebrows. "So they really were married. I wondered if she was just the other woman."
"Wow," said Priya. "That's rather sweet that he wants to immortalize her in a hospital ward."
"Depends on the ward, surely," Tom said. "She might be less than enthusiastic if it's the dysentery clinic."
* * * *
They spent the rest of the day cleaning up and putting things back in their original places. Stevie was pleasantly surprised to find that there wasn't any damage beyond a couple of red wine stains on the library carpet. She was on her hands and knees attacking one of these when Alice appeared. Stevie sat back and studied her.
The teenager looked awful. Her first real hangover, Stevie guessed. She remembered how that felt. Coupled with the guilt of what could have happened, Alice must be feeling like she wanted to die. Stevie felt a twinge of sympathy.
"How're you feeling?"
Alice winced. "I've been better."
"It's called a hangover," said Stevie. She bit her lip. Oh no. She sounded just like Marsh. She'd have to put a stop to that.
Alice sank into a chair. After a moment she said, "Uncle Tom keeps offering me fried things."
Stevie grinned. "And you don't want to eat anything?"
"No."
"It might help. Try a slice of toast."
"Maybe." She sounded doubtful.
Stevie went back to tackling the wine stains.
"Stevie," said Alice, after a while.
"Yes?"
"Thank you. For being so understanding last night."
Stevie raised her eyebrows.
"I mean, you didn't tell Gran. That's...well...thank you."
"I didn't tell Evelyn because I didn't want to upset her. She had a lot riding on this ball. I didn't do it for you, Alice."
Alice nodded, clearly miserable. "I can't believe I was so stupid."
"It's called peer pressure. You need to learn to resist and stand up for yourself."
"I know."
She looked so sad sitting huddled in the chair that Stevie felt sorry for her. "Hey, at least you got to meet Pete."
A bit of life came back into Alice's features as she remembered that. "I was so shy I couldn't think of anything to say. Jemmie did all the talking. Pete must have thought I was so lame."
"Jemmie? Is that the girl who called herself Veronica?"
"Yes."
Stevie had guessed as much from the list of email and postal addresses she'd compiled when selling the tickets. She also had a good idea about who had sold the tickets on eBay. She would pass the information on to Evelyn. Since the Farriers didn't appear to want to sue, there didn't seem to be any pressing need for further action. "Are you going to stay in touch with them?"
"Well, they'll be on the forum," said Alice. "But no, I don't think I'll be friends with them or anything." Alice stared into space.
Stevie watched her and felt as though she was witnessing an important turning point in Alice's life. She was glad she'd been on hand to help Alice make the correct choices.
Marsh must have felt like this all the time while she was growing up. And, being a man, he would've had no idea about how girls' minds worked. Poor Marsh. Stevie knew she hadn't made things easy for him. She gave the floor an extra scrub and moved on to find the next stain.
Alice hauled herself out of the chair. "I'm going to the kitchen. For toast."
Stevie smiled and returned to her work.
* * * *
"Well," said Evelyn. "I thought you all did such a great job with the ball, that we should have a celebratory meal. I'll cook. And we can open one of Frank's special wines."
"That is an honour," Tom muttered to Stevie. "Mum doesn't often bother cooking for just us."
Did that mean Evelyn was a terrible cook?
He seemed to guess her concerns. "Don't get me wrong. She's a wonderful cook. She just can't be bothered for just family."
Just family. Did that mean she was part of the family now? "If it's a family thing, do you want me to fend for myself?"
"Don't be ridiculous," said Evelyn. "You worked so hard on this ball we couldn't possibly leave you out. Besides, you're part of the family now, practically."
"Oh." Stevie cast a quick glance at Tom to see how he was taking that piece of information.
His face was thoughtful. He caught her watching him and looked away.
She felt a small stab of disappointment. So that was it. He still thought she was needy and looking for something permanent, while all he wanted was a fling.
"I'll go get the wine," he said. "Any particular type?"
While he and Evelyn discussed which bottles to open, Stevie examined her hands. Was she needy and looking for something permanent? She glanced up to see Evelyn, who was humming and flicking through pages of a cookbook. She thought about the house and its embracing feeling of warmth. She thought about the idea of being here as someone who genuinely belonged, rather than someone passing through. She would love that. In the short time that she'd been there, she'd come to view Evelyn and Alice as more than just clients, and now Evelyn had indicated she felt the same.
And then, there was Tom. When she'd first met him, she'd thought he was arrogant and annoying, but eminently fanciable. In the time they'd spent preparing for the ball, she'd seen him mellow and relax and turn into someone much more likeable. And she genuinely cared for him. But he clearly didn't want to be tied down. Perhaps they could be friends.
But did she really want to be one of his booty calls, like Vienna? An involuntary sigh escaped her.
Evelyn looked up from her book. "Are you all right, Stevie?"
"Yes, I guess the long night is catching up with me." Stevie forced a smile. "I might go have a quick lie down."
* * * *
Text from: Stevie's phone
To: Marsh's phone
Ball went well. Lots to do today clearing up tho. Speak soon. Hope all well with Jane + baby. S
##
Text from: Marsh's phone
To: Stevie's phone
Glad to hear it. Jane and baby fine.
* * * *
Once dinner had been cleared away and all the dishes put in the dishwasher, Alice and Evelyn disappeared up to their rooms, leaving Tom and Stevie free to take their glasses of wine to the gazebo. The fairy lights were still up and the place had a magical air about it.
Stevie leaned back and closed her eyes. The wine and good food
was making her feel lovely and mellow. "This is perfect," she murmured.
Tom reached across and stroked her cheek. "Isn't it?"
She looked over to see him smiling. "You look different from how you were two weeks ago."
As he caressed her cheek, he never looked away from her face. "How do you mean?"
"Well, you were grumpy and had these frown lines from having a headache all the time." She reached across and touched his forehead. "Just there."
He kissed her in reply. A long lingering kiss that made Stevie ache with pleasure.
"I've wanted to do this for a long time," Tom said. He ran a playful finger down the curve of her neck.
"Why didn't you?"
His hand stopped moving. "I wasn't sure it would be a good idea."
"Why not?"
"I thought you wanted more than I could offer." His gaze moved up to her face. "I mean, this is lovely, but..."
Suddenly, Stevie wished she hadn't asked. He already thought she was needy and now she'd just confirmed the impression. She shook her head and put a finger to his lips. "This is enough," she said, and leaned in to kiss him.
If a few days were all she had with him, she might as well make the most of it.
Chapter 21
Dear Thomas,
We are delighted to offer you the job as regional manager for the new Doha branch of the company. A formal letter containing details of the offer will follow.
We look forward to working with you.
The Directors.
##
From: Tom Blackwood
To: Olivia Gornall
I've just had an email to say I got the Doha job! I have to wait for the formal letter etc.
##
From: Olivia Gornall Olivia Gornall
To: Tom Blackwood
Wow. That's great news. I guess you're going to take it.
Have you told Stevie?
##
From: Tom Blackwood
To: Olivia Gornall
Not yet. I'm working up to it.
* * * *
Once the aftermath of the ball had been cleared up, Stevie had very little reason to remain. She decided she would leave the next afternoon.
That morning she and Tom had breakfast together. Evelyn seemed to be leaving them alone and Alice hadn't rolled out of bed yet. They sat next to each other at the table in the kitchen, knees touching. The idea of not being able to do this every day hurt. Stevie told herself that she should enjoy what time she had left with him, but it didn't help.
"I can give you a lift, if you like," he said.
"Don't worry about it. It'll be out of your way."
"We could stop off for lunch somewhere en route. I know some nice places between here and London."
Stevie considered. It certainly sounded more attractive than sitting in a bus full of tourists.
The doorbell rang.
Tom laid a hand on her knee. "Evelyn will get it." His touch burned, even though she should be used to it by now. He leaned closer.
She heard footsteps coming down the stairs and drew back, guiltily.
Tom removed his hand from high on her thigh, just as Vienna walked through the door.
She looked from Tom to Stevie and back again. "Hello. Not interrupting anything, am I?"
"Just breakfast," said Tom. "What are you doing here? Shouldn't you be with a client?"
"Client postponed on me." Vienna threw her bag onto an empty chair and sat in another. "So I thought, rather than schlep back to London, I'd pop by here remind you that the corporate event next week is black tie."
Tom frowned. "Corporate event?"
"Oh Tom! Don't tell me you've forgotten. You said you'd be my partner at the Hardakers annual dinner."
"Sorry. So I did. I completely forgot." Tom didn't look at either of them. He finished off his bacon and egg. "Black tie. Okay."
"Good job I reminded you." Vienna eyed Stevie. "How did the ball go? Make lots of money?"
"Not too bad, thanks." Stevie could tell Vienna suspected something. "How's Pete?"
"He's a lovely man. So very talented." She sighed. "And so very very busy. He's travelling all over the place, promoting his new album."
Stevie stood and took her plate to clear it. Suddenly, she wasn't hungry any more. "I've got a few things to sort out before I leave," she said and glanced at Tom, who was wiping his plate with his toast. "I'll see you in a bit."
He smiled vaguely, still not making eye contact.
As Stevie left, she heard Vienna say in a theatrical whisper, "I hope you know what you're doing."
Instead of heading straight out of the back door as she'd intended, Stevie ducked into the little pantry beside the kitchen. From there she would be hidden from Tom, but would be able to hear what was being said.
"What are you talking about?" Tom said.
"That girl. You're sleeping with her."
Tom must have made some sort of gesture of denial, because Vienna carried on, "Oh come on, Tom, I've known you long enough and well enough to spot the signs. I just hope you understand what you're doing."
Stevie was pressing against the side of the freezer, but that had nothing to do with the sudden chill that she felt.
"You've always been straight with your women," said Vienna, no longer whispering. "Sex is all there is. No commitments."
"And?" Tom sounded annoyed.
"And, I don't think you've made that clear to her. She's young and naive. It will break her heart when she finds out she's just another notch on the bedpost. Poor little thing. She's clearly in love with you."
Stevie nearly gasped. Was she in love with him? She couldn't be. Could she? She covered her mouth with her hands, in case any sound escaped.
"For you information," said Tom. "Stevie is more mature than you give her credit for. She knows I can't commit to a long-term relationship at the moment. I've told her and she understands. Besides which, it's none of your damned business anyway."
"Have you told her about the job in Doha then?"
There was a moment of silence. It told Stevie all she needed to know.
Tom muttered something Stevie couldn't catch.
"Oh come on, we both know you're a shoo-in for that job. When were you planning to tell her? An hour before you left for the airport?"
Stevie didn't want to hear any more. She ran out of the back door, letting it slam behind her.
Back in her room she threw clothes into her suitcase, not really seeing or caring what was going in. She'd known that Tom wasn't going to make a commitment to her. He'd been completely up front about that. But she hadn't known the reason. He was leaving the country. He had a new job somewhere exotic and he hadn't bothered to tell her about it.
What made things worse was that Vienna knew all about it. Of course he couldn't commit to a relationship. There wasn't the chance of one. Stevie had just been a small interlude in his arrangement with Vienna. A little side act to the main attraction. He'd used her.
She hurled her silk dress in to the bag and stuffed the high heels savagely on top. She'd never be able to wear that dress again without crying, so who cared if it snagged.
It's not as though people hadn't warned her. She had just carried on building dreams out of thin air, like an idiot. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid.
A knock on the door made her pause.
Tom.
She wiped her face with her hands, hoping to take away the tear tracks. She had to a mature about this. Tom hadn't lied to her. He'd always told her he couldn't offer her anything serious. It was her fault that she'd gone and fallen in love with him.
"Stevie, can I come in?"
She had to pull herself together. Act like she could deal with this. Taking a deep breath, she opened the door. "Tom."
He stood, his hands in his pockets, shifty-eyed like a guilty child. "Stevie. I... I don't know what to say
."
Neither did she. Her eyes prickled. She had to clench her teeth to stop the tears. She turned away and returned to stuffing her bag. He stepped into the room. His presence was like electricity on her skin, only now it was tinged with pain rather than excitement.
"I'm sorry."
"Is it true?" She pulled the bag closed and tried to do up the clasp. "You're leaving?"
"Yes."
The clasp was too blurred for her to close it properly. She clawed at it.
"Here. Let me." Tom leaned across and secured it. The click sounded unnaturally loud.
"Stevie." He reached for her hand.
She moved out of the way. Just being near him was hard enough. If he touched her now, she wouldn't be able to bear it. A tear escaped down her cheek. She brushed it away. "You don't have to explain Tom. You were perfectly honest with me at the start. You don't do commitment. I understand that."
Inside her chest, her heart tore. "It's been fun. Really. But I guess all good things have to come to an end sometime." She picked up the suitcase. "Good luck with your job in Doha."
She managed to look at him and the expression on his face made her feel even worse. Disappointed that he didn't say anything, she turned to leave. As she reached the door, he said, "Stevie?"
"Yes?" She didn't turn around.
"I want you to know that I never thought of you as a notch on the bedpost. You were...you are...special."
Special? She half turned. He was sitting on the bed, looking at his feet. A small flare of hope that she hadn't even noticed, guttered and died. "But not special enough for you to stay?"
He avoided her eyes and shook his head.
Stevie nodded. So that was how it was. At least she knew now. Without another word, she hitched the bag onto her shoulder and left. She kept up a steady pace until she reached the end of the road, leaving Tom, leaving the house, far behind her. Tom didn't follow her. Part of her was relieved.
The rest of her was gutted.
* * * *
From: Tom Blackwood
To: Olivia Gornall
Stevie's gone.
I don't know what to do with myself. I can't concentrate on anything.
##
From: Olivia Gornall
