by Celia Hayes
‘Pleased to meet you.’
I make an effort to sound friendly. They don’t get up, or even reply – just give me a vague nod and sit there staring at me with annoyingly sarcastic expressions.
There’s only one person left at the table and Thomas walks over to him quickly, taking me with him. ‘Sandy, do you remember Robert? He recently entered the House of Lords, but until a few months ago he was the director of his father’s newspaper,’ he tells me.
‘To be honest…’ I mumble embarrassed. The more I look at him, the more I realize that he does have a familiar face, but I can’t quite place him… He’s a big guy, with curly red hair. He must be a few years older than me and even though he’s sitting down I’d guess he’s quite tall…
‘Sandy? Sandy Price?’ he exclaims opening his eyes wide.
Oh my God… Robby-lapdog-Cooper. No, I can’t believe it. Do the other lords know that he was wearing nappies until he was eight?
‘Of course!’ I say, stretching out my hand, which he seizes, standing up just enough to match my height.
The maître d’ moves one of the free chairs and waits for me to sit down, while Agatha asks Robert, ‘Do you two know each other?’
‘Do I know Sandy? Of course I know Sandy! She used to spend her summer holidays in Canterbury. Her parents were old friends of Sir Roger’s, weren’t they?’ he says, turning to Thomas for confirmation. Thomas nods.
‘Really?’ she asks, faking surprise. ‘So tell me, Sandy,’ she continues, pronouncing my name with distaste, ‘what exactly do you do?’
A perfectly legitimate question, since Thomas didn’t give any details about me when he introduced us. Doctor Hughes, the Turners, both notaries, Lord Robby-lapdog-Cooper and then me, Sandy. Just Sandy.
‘At the moment I keep her busy,’ Thomas cuts in before I can say a word.
‘Shut up! Are you Tommy’s new sweetheart?’ Felicia asks me amused.
‘I’m not sure,’ I answer doubtfully, faking astonishment. ‘Tommy,’ I say, imitating her coquettish tone, ‘am I your new sweetheart?’ and I flutter my eyelashes, making her look an absolute idiot. The people sitting at the tables around us break into wild applause, the crowd goes mad, and…
OK, it doesn’t go quite like that. I was just daydreaming. Who am I kidding? I wouldn’t have done anything like that even if I knew how. I would have reacted exactly the way I did: by not saying anything.
‘Sandy and I are engaged,’ says Thomas, to general astonishment. It must have been hard for him to come out with it, but I’m the only one who knows that. All the others sit there with their mouths hanging open in surprise, looking as though they’re expecting some kind of explanation. The only one who congratulates us is Casey, the doctor. He, at least, reacts honestly and happily. How can someone like him hang around with people like this?
‘So, Sandy,’ he teases, ‘how did he manage to blackmail you into it?’
‘He made me an offer I couldn’t refuse,’ I answer in a gloomy voice, quoting The Godfather. Casey bursts out laughing, and Thomas almost chokes on his Château Lafite.
‘Unbelievable. I never thought I’d see the day. When is it, by the way?’ Agatha asks.
‘In November,’ says Thomas. ‘But we haven’t chosen a date yet.’
She’s about to ask more questions, but we are suddenly surrounded by an army of waiters serving canapés, so we are forced, thank God, to change the subject.
The evening is even more boring than I’d imagined, and when dessert is served I am secretly over the moon. Thomas is discussing legislative decrees with Robert and Casey, and so all that’s left for me to do is have a quick tête-à-tête with the champagne bottle.
‘So you’re getting married in November?’
It’s Agatha – I imagine she wants to use Thomas’s temporary distraction to continue her nosing about in my private life.
‘That’s the plan,’ I answer, unruffled.
‘You must be in seventh heaven,’ continues Felicia, slipping into the conversation.
‘Everything happened so quickly,’ I say, trying to be vague and avoiding openly lying.
‘Of course… What a marvellous shawl,’ she says, caressing its hem and then glancing at her sister conspiratorially. ‘I think I saw one just like it in Fashion UK.’
I doubt that my shawl appeared in a fashion magazine, so I surrender myself to the idea that they are going to tease me for the rest of the evening.
‘Adorable!’ Agatha agrees.
‘Sandy Price,’ mumbles Robert, attacking his crème brûlée. ‘Who’d have thought it? Do you remember that time Thomas and I locked you in Sir Roger’s stable?’ he asks, swinging his spoon, with the expression of someone who has just told an incredibly funny joke.
How could I forget? They left me there for hours. Luckily the stable boy found me, or I’d have been in there until morning.
‘When we were kids we got up to all sorts of mischief,’ continues Robert to Agatha and Felicia. ‘And Sandy was our favourite victim.’
‘Knowing you, I would never have imagined you were such an unruly child, Thomas,’ comments Casey in surprise.
‘Yes, I was actually quite unruly,’ Thomas admits, helping himself to a glass white wine.
‘Sometimes destiny is unpredictable,’ says Casey. ‘I wonder what you would have thought as a child if someone had told you that Sandy was the girl you were going to marry one day.’
If someone had told me, I’d probably have become a nun.
‘Well, yes…’ answers Thomas curtly, ‘I don’t imagine I would have believed them.’
‘I suppose it would have been the same for Sandy,’ continues Casey, and I decide to just smile diplomatically.
‘Shall we go?’ asks Thomas suddenly, after looking at his watch.
I’m surprised by the question, as it comes out of the blue while the others are still having their dessert, but I decide to take advantage of it. Who knows when I’ll have another chance.
‘If you like,’ I nod, standing up. ‘Can I just have a minute?’
‘Sure. Shall I wait for you by the cloakroom?’
‘Fine.’
‘We’ll be going too, in that case,’ says Agatha. ‘We’ve got an early morning tomorrow,’ she explains while gently dabbing her lips with the corner of a folded napkin.
‘Do you mind if I go too, Rob? I’m on the night shift tonight.’
‘Course not, Casey,’ Robert reassures him. ‘Let’s all leave together.’
‘I’ll only be a moment,’ I say, leaving the group and heading for the bathrooms.
What an infernal evening!
The toilets are all busy, so I go to one of the sinks to freshen up, holding my hands under the running water. When I straighten up I see the image of myself in the mirror: I look exhausted. My make-up has almost gone, but at least my hairdo is still in place. I take a small make-up set from my bag to put some colour on my face, then sigh deeply and open the door to join the others again, trying to summon up my courage. ‘Another five minutes and you’ll be free, Sandy,’ I repeat to myself as I walk along the corridor towards the lobby.
Thomas is the first person I see in the queue at the cloakroom. He’s talking to Agatha and Robert, and Casey and Felicia are in front of them asking for their coats.
‘So how come you were you so easily won over, Tommy?’ Agatha is asking him, a surprised expression on her face. ‘I hope you don’t actually believe she’s with you for love.’
‘Thomas is a hopeless romantic!’
‘This is not about sentimentalism, Robert. Did you see the way she’s dressed?’
‘Sandy’s a very ordinary person,’ Thomas answers calmly. ‘She’d never feel comfortable in showy clothes.’
‘Well, whatever, but she looks like she’s just left the bloody orphanage. It’s ridiculous!’
‘You should’ve seen her when she was a kid!’ adds an amused Robert. ‘With her silly pigtails and those checked skirts…’
‘Oh, spare me – the grown-up version is bad enough,’ she bursts out, waving her hand.
‘Don’t listen to her, Thomas, she’s just envious. Good God, she certainly grew up into a very tasty young lady. If you should change your mind, please feel free to give her my number,’ continues Robert, laughing at his own words.
‘I’m not sure she would appreciate that, after you dissected her dolls and organized them in order of severity of injury for your experiments in emergency surgery.’
‘Ha! I had forgotten that!’
I blush and turn around, trying to hide behind a column between the lobby and the bathrooms. Is it possible that Thomas didn’t say anything in my defence? But then, why should he defend me anyway? He probably agrees with them.
I’m surprised by Casey’s voice.
‘I think you are very beautiful.’
He must have walked over without me noticing.
‘Oh… I…’
‘Take no notice of Agatha,’ he continues, offering me his arm. ‘She’s always had a crush on Thomas. The news about you two getting married must have upset her. That was just her nerves talking. What about if we give her the coup de grâce?’
I involuntarily burst out laughing, hiding my face with a hand.
‘I… my dress… I didn’t know it would be… I mean…’ I gesture around me. ‘Thomas talked about a dinner party, he didn’t say…’ I continue, embarrassed and attempting to justify myself.
‘Sandy, I think your smile was the most elegant thing I saw all evening,’ he says seriously, putting an end to my babbling and giving me the strength I need to confront my stupid fears.
‘Are you ready?’
I nod and take his arm, allowing him to accompany me towards the entrance.
‘Casey…’ I whisper before we reach the others. ‘Thanks.’
Chapter 14
Once we’re out of the hotel we head towards the car park At this time of night the streets are deserted, and we only bump into the occasional passer-by walking hurriedly towards the neon sign of a pub.
When we get in the car, Thomas asks me if I’m all right. He must have finally realized he can’t keep acting like nothing has happened.
‘Tell me,’ I blurt out, more and more upset. ‘Why did you ask me to pretend to be your girlfriend?’
‘I thought I’d already explained it to you.’
‘I am not talking about the will. I’d like to know why you asked me to accept this absurd cohabitation, if all you need is a simple written statement in which I say I don’t want to marry you. There are things about all this that I just don’t get. You’re kind to me, then you’re nasty. At first you beg me to help you, then you accuse me of having used you. You ask me to spend more time with you to prevent suspicion, but you let people put me down and act as if it wasn’t your problem. What’s going on here?’
‘You’re talking nonsense,’ he scoffs, starting the car. ‘Nobody put you down, and I’d like to remind you that the day that I asked you to help me, your reply was that you could barely stand me and didn’t want anything to do with all this. And then, as soon as you saw the notary you magically changed your mind without even warning me beforehand, meaning that I could have inadvertently said something that might have jeopardised my position. I have every reason to be upset, but as you see, I’m trying to move forward, trying not to think about it.’
‘Nobody put me down? Do you think I’m stupid? I heard what Agatha said. She basically said I was a social-climber who’s only after your money.’
‘It’s not a million miles away from the truth,’ he says, a relaxed expression on his face. I don’t know how he manages it – I’m a bundle of nerves myself, and I can’t hide the fact. ‘Anyway, I think it’s important to play along with them. The fact that they think you’re an opportunist makes it easier to prove my good faith. When you dump me at the altar, they’ll be all ready to testify that my attachment to you was sincere and that you were anything but disinterested.’
‘But if I were, why would I leave you?’
‘We could say that I’d tried to force you to accept an unfavourable prenup or something. But we’ll sort out the details with Frank as soon as he’s got time to see me.’
So not only do I have to give up six months of my life, but I also have to go down in history as a gold-digger.
The rest of the journey passes, as you might imagine, without either of us uttering a single word, and when we get home, I go straight to my room, lock myself in and call Rufus. Unfortunately, his phone’s off, so I have to do without his advice. I’d like to call my family, but it’s late and I don’t want to worry them. I could try the girls, but they’re already feeling pretty guilty about what I’m doing for the bistro, and I don’t want to get them any more stressed than they already are.
I pace nervously about the room for a while before eventually deciding to open the window, and I breathe in the moist evening air in great gulps, hoping it’ll calm me down.
I can’t go on like this. I really can’t.
It’s not about the money, or even the comments of that stuck-up airhead Agatha. The truth is that by signing this contract I’ve basically allowed Thomas to do whatever he wants to me, and I can’t let that happen. I’ve sold myself for a bistro. The question is, did I have a choice? Well, not much of one, but isn’t my dignity worth more? If I pull out now, I’ll have to give him back the advance payment, and the problem is that I don’t have it. So what should I do?
At the thought of my future, a wave of panic overwhelms me. What’s happening to me? It’s only a question of two or three dinner parties, why am I getting so worked up about it?
No, not even calmly reflecting helps. In an attempt to identify the real reason for my uneasiness, I run through the evening’s events in my mind, and find it almost immediately in the conversation I overheard between Thomas and Agatha. I can see him standing there, listening to them without batting an eyelid, just like in Sir Arthur’s garden, after that kiss by the pool. Nothing has changed. I don’t know why, but he still has the same effect on me. Years have gone by, we’ve grown up, we have different lives, different friends. We know that each of us will soon go our own way and we’ll never be forced to meet again – and yet the uneasiness that comes over me whenever I’m around him and the urge to run away when he speaks to me remain.
At the risk of looking a fool, I decide to go downstairs and put an end to our agreement. There’s no point waiting another five months. My only hope is to ask him if we can move forward the time when I’m supposed to leave him. I’ll accept any conditions he likes, but it must happen no later than this week. We could arrange a dinner here at Garden House. I’d have the chance to make a scene in public – I’ll shout that I’ve got no intention of marrying him, and I’ll dump him. Who wouldn’t believe that?
Full of hope, I walk down the stairs to join him in his study. I’m sure he is still there. To date, he has never gone to bed before two in the morning. I know, because I always wake up at the sound of his footsteps or his bedroom door closing. He doesn’t do it on purpose, it’s just that I’m a light sleeper and the slightest noise can make me jump out of bed.
As I imagined, he’s in his study. The door is slightly ajar and from within a beam of dim light illuminates the carpet in the hallway. Trying to make as little noise as possible, I walk over to the threshold and listen to the sounds coming from inside in an attempt to judge whether it’s appropriate or not for me to enter.
I hear his voice immediately. He’s talking to someone, but I can’t hear anyone answering so I assume it’s a phone call and decide to wait for it to end. I’ll come back later.
‘I’m surviving,’ I hear him mutter wearily, as I start to walk away. ‘Yeah, I took her to a charity event organized by the club so people would see me out with her. How did it go? How do you think it went? No, not yet. What? No, no. She asked a few questions, but I think I got away with it. She doesn’t suspect anything.’
His
last words make me suspicious. What ‘anything’ am I not suspecting?
Still trying to avoid being heard, I tiptoe back and eavesdrop at the door.
‘I still can’t figure out what could have prompted my grandfather to do it. What? No, of course not! She can’t hear me, she ran off to her room as soon as we got back.’ He yawns, and I imagine him on the other side of the door, stretching in his chair and rubbing his face. ‘Yes,’ he resumes, with a sleepy voice, ‘yes, I know what you’d do – but you can forget it! I have no intention of sharing my inheritance with her!’
What? Oh God… I leap back from the door as though it were scorching hot. I’m shocked. What did he say? Did I hear that right?
What… What is really behind our agreement?
This needs sorting out!
Without wasting another second, I rush back to my room and throw the contents of my bag onto the bed, sifting frantically through the pile of junk that was inside until I find a crumpled business card. No frills, just the bare necessities in black capitals on a white background. What a cheapskate! Realizing that I’m right on the edge of having a nervous breakdown, though, I decide to temporarily put my feelings about the use of Calibri 12 to one side and nervously dial the phone number on the card then wait impatiently as it rings.
‘This is Cameron Hill, who is speaking?’ answers a sleepy voice.
‘Mr Hill, this is Sandy – Sandy Price,’ I say in a tremulous voice.
‘Miss Price, it must be past midnight – is everything all right?’
‘I’m sorry about the time, I really am, but I absolutely must speak to you urgently about Sir Roger’s will.’
‘Of course. If I can help in any way…’
‘You see…’ I hesitate. ‘Thomas had assured me that I would get a copy of the deed, but what with one thing and another, I haven’t had the opportunity yet to read it through properly and I was wondering if you would be so kind as to confirm the content of certain clauses which I’ve only had outlined to me.’
‘An unfortunate oversight. If you like, I can email you a copy immediately.’
