Serve Cool

by Davies, Lauren

  Chapter Twenty-two

  21st April, 10:00 p.m.

  I had to get some fresh air. Thumper had taken up residence in my head, and the vodka was doing funny things in my stomach. The front door was blocked by the press trying to get their shot of the beautiful couple and the back door was being guarded by two more bouncers who would make Mike Tyson look like Barry McGuigan. I made for the loos, battled my way into a cubicle and stuck my head against the smallest excuse for a window I had ever seen. I wouldn’t exactly call the air fresh, but at least I had escaped the horrible scene.

  ‘How could she do this?’ I muttered to myself, breathing into a disposal bag in an attempt to curb the hyperventilating. ‘She knew how much I liked him. I even said I loved him. Bloody hell, I must have a sign on my back saying “Gullible Idiot”, right above “Break my heart – it’s fun”.’

  I shook my head fiercely and rubbed my eyes, hoping I would wake up from my nightmare. Chunks of mascara coated my fingers, which told me it was real. If I had been dreaming, I would have made sure I was wearing waterproof.

  ‘Go out and confront them,’ said a determined voice on my right shoulder.

  ‘No don’t! Hide in here till they’ve all gone home. It’s too shameful,’ said the shaky voice on my left.

  ‘But you don’t know the full facts,’ said the right voice.

  ‘Of course you do. She’s your best friend and she’s sleeping with your boyfriend,’ retorted the left.

  ‘Ex-boyfriend,’ replied the right.

  ‘Smart arse,’ I said aloud.

  The left won. I sat on the loo, put my head in my hands, and started to cry.

  Randall had looked so attractive as he entered the pub. He was wearing his black dinner suit but it was teamed, as always, with his ever-loyal black boots. His hair looked softer, even styled, but still fell over his forehead in his unique, dishevelled way. His face was cleanly shaven. It looked so smooth, I had wanted to reach out and stroke it, then I had looked to his hands. I wanted to see the slim, piano-player hands that had felt their way over my body, touched my face and caressed my hair. The hands that made me tremble with pleasure. The hand that was now clasped tightly in Maz’s hand. It was then I realised what I was witnessing. OK, so I was slow on the uptake, but it was a bit hard to concentrate when my hormones were reaching intergalactic proportions.

  Not only was Randall at the party but he was at the party with Maz. It seemed Randall had bought the pub and sealed the deal with the love of my best friend. The bastard. He was even two-timing Troy.

  It was only the offer by a very highly strung party-goer to ‘shove my head down the U-bend’ if I didn’t ‘get out of the bleedin’ cubicle now’ that made me leave my hiding place. I would happily have stayed there, perched on the toilet, for weeks if I thought it would have spared me a whole lot of emotional turmoil and embarrassment. My aim now was to reach the exit faster than the speed of light and slip away into obscurity. My father could find his own way home. I should have known life was never that simple.

  ‘Jen, lass, you made it!’ boomed an unmistakable voice as I crept back into the throng of the party.

  My whole body tensed as a radiant Maz ran towards me and scooped me up in a smothering hug.

  ‘It’s lush to see you!’ she shouted, keeping her hands on my shoulders.

  I looked at her coldly. ‘Hello Maz,’ I said through gritted teeth.

  ‘D’you like the party then?’ she beamed.

  ‘Yeah, it’s just fantastic.’

  I bit my lip to stop it trembling.

  ‘Great place for a show eh?’ she continued. ‘I couldn’t believe it when they told us they were gonna run the show from here, from our pub.’

  I looked at her curiously, my fury subsiding for a moment.

  ‘The show is going to come from here?’ I asked.

  ‘Aye, pet. I’ve been desperate to tell you but I thought I’d wait, like, till it were all sorted.’

  My rage returned as I remembered whose pub this now was. ‘This isn’t our pub, Maz,’ I said firmly, ‘this is Randall’s pub, remember? Or perhaps it belongs to you and Randall now? That would be cosy, wouldn’t it?’

  She was taken aback by my stern tone. Maz let go of my shoulders and stepped back, holding my gaze. ‘Jen, are you alreet?’ she asked.

  ‘Oh yeah, Maz, I’m just brilliant. Absolutely fucking great!’

  She frowned and looked quickly around her.

  ‘Oh, afraid what your fans might think, are you?’ I said loudly. ‘Afraid they might not like you once they find out what you’re really like?’

  ‘Jen,’ she said, signalling with her hands for me to keep the volume down, ‘you’ve got it all wrong, lass. We were gonna tell you but you wouldn’t answer our calls.’

  ‘Tell me what, Maz?’ I replied, my voice growing louder with each word. ‘Tell me how happy you are in your new poncey apartment with your swanky new job. Tell me how pleased you are that I spend my days doing a job that a PG Tips monkey would find boring. Tell me how happy you and MY boyfriend are now that he’s bought you everything you ever wanted. What about friendship, Maz? What about the years we spent together, don’t they mean anything to you or have you sold out completely?’

  My voice was loud and trembling and my whole body shook as the emotion came pouring out. First Jack, then Troy, then Randall, now Maz. Everyone I had ever trusted had let me down. Now I was all alone. I didn’t care who heard me. I was aware that the room had fallen silent and all eyes were on us, but I had no pride left.

  ‘You were my best friend, Maz,’ I sobbed. ‘How could you do this?’

  Maz was crying too. Maz never cried. ‘Jen, listen!’ she yelled, but I was running for the door.

  I felt like Moses parting the Red Sea as the crowd dispersed to let the mad woman through. I could almost taste freedom when my vision was suddenly blurred by the outline of a man standing in front of me. I skidded to a halt, sending particles of vodka careering through my bloodstream at an alarming rate.

  ‘Randall,’ I mouthed.

  The sight of him almost made me faint. We were so close, I could see the pores of his skin and feel the warmth of his body. His pheromones danced like space invaders before my eyes.

  ‘Jenny,’ he said, piercing my rage with his electric eyes.

  ‘I … I can’t talk to you,’ I spluttered.

  The crowd turned to Randall.

  ‘Then just listen,’ he replied.

  They turned back to me.

  ‘But I’m so confused,’ I answered.

  They looked at him.

  ‘Of course you are,’ he smiled.

  Back to me.

  I made no response. That ruined their game of conversational tennis.

  ‘I bought the pub to save it,’ he explained.

  ‘Bollocks,’ I spat.

  ‘I thought it would make a good venue for a show,’ he continued.

  ‘What’s that got to do with you, Randall? You’re just the work experience boy.’

  A ripple of laughter moved around the room. I glared at our audience.

  ‘Oh Jenny, you’re so adorable,’ he smiled.

  ‘Piss off,’ I retorted. ‘Don’t mock me, Randall, we all know who you find adorable.’

  ‘Who?’

  ‘Maz of course. Why else would you be so secretive and holding hands and … oh you make me want to puke. Not to mention Troy of course.’

  I thumped his arm.

  ‘Ow!’ he laughed.

  ‘Stop laughing at me, you insensitive git.’

  ‘I’m not,’ he laughed.

  ‘You are, look at you. You’re smiling now. I suppose it’s because you’re in love or something pathetic.’

  ‘I am.’

  I wanted to die. ‘Well, good luck to you,’ I croaked. ‘I hope you’ll both be very miserable together.’

  ‘Who?’

  ‘You and Troy or you and Maz. I don’t know!’

  ‘But I don’t love Maz.’


  ‘Yes you do.’

  ‘No I don’t.’

  ‘You do.’

  ‘No I don’t.’

  ‘Well, who the Jesus, Mary and Joseph do you love then?’ I screamed.

  ‘You!’ he shouted. ‘You, Jennifer hole-in-the-head Summer. You!’

  My head raced to absorb this new information. Rational thought battled for space among the alcohol.

  ‘What are you talking about, Randall?’ I asked, frantically waving my arms around.

  He grabbed my shoulders.

  ‘I love you!’ he shouted. ‘I love you so much I can’t sleep at night. I daydream at work about spending time with you. I love you so much I long to hear your voice and see your beautiful smile and run my fingers through your gorgeous hair. I love you, you fool!’

  I paused for breath. I could feel the tension in the air as the whole party waited for my reply.

  ‘Bullshit,’ I muttered.

  ‘What?’ he said desperately.

  ‘If you love me so much, what are you doing holding hands with my best friend?’ Explain that one, Mr Smooth Talker.

  ‘I’m her boss,’ he insisted.

  ‘Oh, is that what you young people call it these days?’ I scoffed. ‘Her boss, how nice.’

  ‘Jennifer!’ he replied, then he stopped. His eyes darted around the room then he walked away. He just walked away and left me to the mercy of the gathered crowd. Damn.

  In an instant he was back, dragging behind him the man I had recognised as the owner of Paradise TV. I cringed with embarrassment. Oh shit, he’s going to have me forcefully removed, I thought. I cowered under the watchful eye of Glisset & Jacksop’s number one client. Randall spoke first.

  ‘Dad,’ he said loudly, ‘I want you to meet Jennifer, my girlfriend.’

  The big, attractive man held out a firm, tanned hand.

  ‘Delighted,’ he said.

  ‘Dad,’ I repeated, retrieving my hand from the strong handshake. ‘What do you mean, Dad? This is Mr … Mr … um … well, this is the boss of Paradise TV. He’s important, he’s loaded, it’s Mr … damn, what is it?’

  ‘Mr Pettifer,’ the man said.

  ‘That’s it!’ I said triumphantly.

  ‘Pettifer! Pettifer, Pettifer, Petti …’ My voice trailed off at the sound of the name. I stared at the man. I stared at Randall. They stared back. Two pairs of vibrant green eyes.

  ‘Bloody h …’ was all I could manage.

  Come to think of it, they were very alike. Tall, quietly confident, attractive in a not classically good looking sort of way. But it couldn’t be true, could it? I looked around for Jeremy Beadle and his crew of practical jokers, but of course he wouldn’t be there, Randall hated Jeremy Beadle with a passion.

  ‘Are you serious?’ I asked eventually.

  ‘Deadly,’ said Randall.

  ‘But … but what about your work experience?’

  ‘I made it up, so that you wouldn’t be scared off.’

  ‘And … and your little flat?’

  ‘I got it just so that you would think I was normal. I wanted you to fall in love with me, not with all this.’ He looked so sincere.

  ‘What about Troy?’ I asked.

  ‘My cousin,’ he replied.

  Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Troy step out of the party crowd. He smiled. Matt, who seemed to be attached to Troy’s hip, smiled even wider.

  ‘Troy told me about you,’ Randall said. ‘I gave him the tickets for the talk show, and he left the rest up to me.’

  My mind was swimming. I had to stop and tread water before I ran out of energy.

  ‘So you bought this place,’ I said, thinking aloud.

  ‘Yes,’ he replied, ‘I wanted to help out you and Maz. I knew the show could be a success and I wanted to save your pub. It was supposed to be our project.’

  ‘So why did you make me move out?’

  ‘I didn’t. That was Jack. He was representing the sellers so I had to get another lawyer to represent me. I suppose he took it upon himself to break the news. He wasn’t aware of our … relationship.’

  ‘Bastard,’ I smiled.

  ‘Ditto,’ he laughed.

  I took a step closer to him.

  ‘I wanted to explain,’ he insisted. ‘I tried calling every day but …’

  ‘My mother didn’t give me your messages.’

  He stared at me so intently, I nearly had an orgasm on the spot.

  ‘Oh Randall,’ I sighed, ‘I’ve made such a mess. How could I have got it so wrong?’

  ‘Because you’re stubborn,’ he replied.

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘And you jump to conclusions.’

  ‘Yeah, maybe.’

  ‘And you don’t give people time to explain.’

  ‘Right, well …’

  ‘And you sulk for weeks.’

  ‘OK, but —’

  ‘And you fly off the handle without thinking.’

  ‘Well, perhaps …’

  ‘And you —’

  ‘OK, all right! I get the message.’

  He laughed loudly and smiled at me with his eyes.

  ‘But I’ve ruined Maz’s party,’ I mumbled.

  Maz appeared at my side and wrapped her arms around me.

  ‘Gis a hug,’ she said, pulling me to her.

  I hugged my friend, burying my head in her shoulder.

  ‘I’m sorry, Maz,’ I whimpered.

  ‘Me too,’ she replied. That was the closest she would ever come to an apology.

  ‘You’re not a stuck-up media cow,’ I added.

  ‘Thanks mate,’ she grinned.

  Randall stepped forward and took my hands in his. The firmness of his grasp sent shivers through my body. I could almost hear my pearls rattling. The party guests faded into oblivion as I focused on his face. All of a sudden, I was very sober.

  ‘So you’re not a work experience boy?’ I asked.

  ‘No.’

  ‘You own Paradise TV?’ I said.

  ‘Half of it, aye.’

  I screwed up my face and paused for a moment.

  ‘Oh, I don’t care.’ I shrugged. ‘I still like you.’

  He laughed and stroked my face with his hand. Our bodies were almost touching.

  ‘Like me,’ he repeated, ‘is that all?’

  ‘Tell me the bit about me having a beautiful smile again, and I might reconsider.’

  His face broke into a heart-melting smile. ‘You are beautiful,’ he said.

  ‘Pardon?’

  ‘You are beautiful.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘You are b …’

  I beamed. ‘I just like hearing you say it,’ I giggled.

  He lifted my chin with his hand and planted a warm, firm kiss on my lips.

  ‘I love you, Jennifer Summer,’ he smiled. ‘Let me take you to Paradise.’

  ‘Wait a sec,’ I replied, kissing him back. ‘I’ll just get my toothbrush.’

  Epilogue

  31st December, 11:55 p.m.

  We watched the wedding video for the umpteenth time. It was unbelievable. The flowers, the dress, the confetti, the cake. The emotion of it all got to me every time.

  ‘Look at Troy!’ I roared. ‘He looks like he’s going to vomit when Matt says, “I do.” ’

  ‘Watch,’ Maz choked, holding her side and rolling on the floor. ‘Here’s the bit where Matt faints and headbutts the celebrant.’

  We laughed hysterically, slapping each other on the back and stammering, ‘Ooh, oh dear,’ in between guffaws.

  ‘You’re so cruel,’ Randall smiled as he scuffed sexily into the room. ‘I think they make a lovely couple. Champagne anyone?’

  The video of Troy and Matt’s Californian wedding ceremony had arrived that morning. Their romance had blossomed since the night of the launch party and Troy had used his discount flights as an air hostess, sorry steward, to jet them off to a Christmas wedding. Of course, I was pleased for them. It was just the sight of Matt in a wh
ite satin frock and veil that made me slightly uneasy.

  Kim gave up her promiscuous ways to move in with the stationery boy. Rumour had it that business slumped after she lengthened her skirts but Kim was happy. She never made it to telephone-answering but she did have every colour of highlighter in the world.

  Simon reached Level 3 on Playstation’s ‘Resident Evil 2’ and turned up for work, occasionally.

  Susie and Sebastian upgraded their dishwasher and bought a Volvo. Apart from that, life in the rut stayed pretty much the same.

  The Scrap Inn, a.k.a. The Talk Inn, became the permanent location for the most popular talk show on TV, but maintained a working bar. Regulars were issued with VIP passes to escape the crowds that travelled for miles to sample a bottle of Brown Ale from the most popular pub in Britain. It was soon clear that our pub would remain standing for at least another 95 years.

  Derek and Denise took over as head bar staff at the pub and often featured on the show. Their advice to troubled couples was usually along the lines of ‘’Ave an argument, that’ll sort oot yer problems.’ ‘Howay woman, na it won’t.’ ‘Shut yer bleedin’ trap you, they asked me.’ ‘No they didny ya tramp …’ and so on.

  Dave took great pride in his job as head of security at the pub for Paradise TV, with Chip as his right-hand man. Apparently, Torica asked him out as her ‘bit of rough’ at least twice a week. He turned her down. He ‘couldny understand a chuffin’ word she said, like. Too bleedin’ regional.’

  My mother left my father, of course, and moved in with her therapist. He turned out to be Scrooge-like in his stinginess – not to mention overpriced – and drove my mum to distraction every time she did a simple act like reach for a biscuit:

  ‘But do you really need a biscuit?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Why do you think that is?’

  ‘I don’t know!’

  ‘Lie down on the couch while we discuss this issue.’

  My dad was initially surprised by the separation. His period of mourning lasted about three weeks until the money for the house came through. He bought a boat, signed Auld Vinny up as First Mate and set sail for worldwide adventure. These two made Captain Pugwash look proficient. The last I heard, they were shark fishing off the west coast of Ireland. They had decided to wait until the Guinness ran out before moving on.