by Lynda Renham
‘Charles, Prince of Wales?’ she gasps.
‘No, my father isn’t the Prince of Wales.’
She shakes my hand.
‘No, you said her father was.’
‘Was what?’
God, it’s enough that I can’t remember what my father is without her questioning me on everyone else’s.
‘The socialite, you said her father was CPW.’
Oh God.
‘Oh, no he isn’t that grand, at least I don’t think he is. I’ve never actually met him.’
Can we please get off the subject of Penelope? I see Toby walking towards us and grab a copy of Brides magazine. I sit staring at little net underskirts for bridesmaids when he says.
‘Hello Jasmine, how are you?’
Christ, has he forgotten my name already? I lower the magazine to see him kissing the woman on her cheek. He gives me a lopsided grin.
‘Looking at more brides’ dresses, Libby?’
Jasmine stares at me in wonder.
‘Oh Toby, is this your girlfriend, Libby?’ she asks, looking all intimidated and star truck. I attempt to stand up in manner of celebrity but my head spins and I fall back down. Toby coughs nervously and smiles at me.
‘Libby, this is Jasmine. She works on the paper.’
‘Only the letters page,’ she says apologetically. ‘You’re an agent aren’t you for Randal and Hobson. I didn’t realise you and Toby… Oh God, I’m so sorry. Have you made up?’
She lets out a tiny sob and I put a comforting hand on her arm. The DJ is yelling for everyone to take the dance floor for the next romantic smooch and I see her glancing around for her fiancé.
‘Oh,’ she swoons, ‘this is our song.’
I feel myself go all maudlin when I realise I don’t have a song with anyone. How pathetic is that?
‘Would you like to dance?’ asks Toby, removing the drink from my hand. ‘Or are you here with someone?’
I’m about to ask him the same question when I spot Serena glaring at me from the opposite side of the room. He swings me onto the dance floor and straight into his arms. We sway slowly around the room and I struggle to find somewhere for my arms rather than around his neck but there is no way out it seems. If I let my hands dangle at my sides they brush his hips, which seems much worse than winding them around his neck.
‘You look terrific,’ he whispers with one eye peering at Serena. ‘The sexiest woman in the room is dancing with me.’
I step on his foot and he winces.
‘And the clumsiest,’ I giggle, feeling I have had enough to drink but wishing I could get just one more glass. From the corner of my eye I see Issy shaking her head. It’s all very well for her to shake her head. She has a partner for the evening. There is nothing worse than being a wallflower.
‘You didn’t really mean those things you said yesterday did you? Who will you watch Woody Allen films with now?’ he says softly into my ear, while trying to nibble at it. I shudder at his kisses and feel my arms wrap tighter around his neck as the music and atmosphere overtake me.
‘You still want me, you know you do. I’ll do whatever you want Libs. I won’t nag about diets any more. If you stay the way you are, you will be perfect anyway.’
‘Toby, I don’t know what to say.’
The truth is I not only don’t know what to say, I actually seem incapable of saying anything. In fact, if I don’t eat something soon I shall be incapable of walking.
‘Just say you will give me another chance?’
‘Well, I…’
I’m beginning to think giving Toby another chance isn’t such a bad idea. I could work hard at staying on my diet and things could be just the way they used to be. We can put the whole Cambodia trip to the back of our minds and in years to come when Alex is on television talking about his books and his activism I can point to him and tell my children how I once knew him and had an adventure. I could help Toby with his writing. It could all be really cosy and loving and I start picturing our marriage like a scene from a movie. Toby tapping away at a typewriter (okay a bit old fashioned but this is how it looks in my drunken daydream) while I’m towelling down our youngest. We smile at each other and Toby asks my advice on the article he is writing and I give a very insightful reply. Toby’s lips are softly brushing my cheek now and I sway slightly as my daydream overtakes me.
‘We’ve still got to give each other Christmas presents haven’t we?’ he whispers huskily. ‘God, I know what I want to give you.’
Good heavens and I can feel it too as it presses firmly against my thigh. He turns my head so I am looking into his eyes. His lips hover above mine for just a second and then gently they touch. His hand pushes on my buttocks and I gasp. At that moment Serena lunges towards me and takes me down in some kind of rugby tackle. It is at moments like these that I think being a wallflower is maybe not so bad after all.
‘You scheming, conniving little bitch,’ she screams into my ear. Her alcohol-fumed breath almost knocks me sideways.
What a bloody cheek. He was my boyfriend first after all. Her fingernails are clawing at my dress and slowly making their way towards my face. My God, she is demented. Her hands grab my head and she attempts to bang it to the floor. There are gasps and lots of oohs and ahs but no bugger attempts to rescue me. I slap her hard across the face sending her reeling back and while she recovers I jump up. Not bad for someone half pissed.
‘Let’s get one thing straight,’ I cry angrily. ‘I’m not the scheming, conniving little bitch. You are. You were seeing my boyfriend when he was still with me.’
The music stops and a small crowd have gathered. I frankly couldn’t care less any more. I’m sick and tired of everyone taking advantage of me. Serena is leaning on Toby for support, and Toby is looking wide-eyed and open-mouthed at me. Serena’s cheek is quite red and I feel rather guilty for hitting her so hard. I look past her to the array of sparkling baubles that hang from the ceiling. I have to blink several times to get them into focus.
‘A bit of excitement on the dance floor I see,’ bellows the DJ. ‘That’s the way, let it all out and free your soul for the New Year.’
Christ, what is he on? We all turn to stare at him as he wriggles and jigs underneath the huge ‘Happy New Year’ banner. Oh, don’t you just hate New Year’s Eve?
‘How dare you,’ hisses Serena. ‘What’s your problem Libby?’ she spits, struggling to get up. ‘Is it that you can’t bear it that Toby is in love with me? He has been waiting for the right time to break it to you and finally dumped you yesterday. Which bit did you not understand?’
Jasmine plonks herself in front of me and points an aggressive finger at Serena.
‘How dare you,’ she fumes. ‘Stealing other women’s boyfriends. You should be ashamed of yourself. Just because your father is a CPW, it doesn’t mean you can walk all over people. Poor Libby has been distraught at losing Toby.’
Well, I wouldn’t go that far. A bit upset maybe.
‘It’s okay…’ I begin.
‘And it takes a lot of courage to come to a party on your own and be reminded that you’re all alone and won’t be getting married. It’s not easy coming to terms with being on the shelf you know, and all thanks to someone like you.’
Christ, no need to rub it in.
‘And she is a famous publisher’s agent with famous clients.’
She’s getting carried away now.
‘And who the fuck are you?’ responds Serena poking Jasmine in the chest.
Jasmines face drops and for one awful moment I think she is going to burst into tears. Toby groans.
‘Let’s get those wriggling bums back on the dance floor girls,’ shouts the DJ in a shaky voice.
‘It’s Raining Men’ blares out at us and people begin to slowly drift back to the middle of the hall.
I take Jasmine’s arm and turn to Toby who gives me a shrug.
‘Well, Toby, it’s New Year’s Eve, you make the choice.’
Jasmine squee
zes my arm while Toby looks decidedly uncomfortable. Serena meanwhile takes a step closer and pushes her face in front of mine and for one frightening moment she comes so close that I actually fear she is going to kiss me.
‘He finished with you, don’t you get it?’ she hisses. Jasmine squeezes my arm even tighter.
‘Oh really, is that what he told you?’
I look at the shamefaced Toby.
‘Well, you know what? I’ve finished with him for the third time. Here’s hoping third time lucky.’
I pull Jasmine away and head for the ladies, where there is, of course, a queue. Everyone pities me and allows me to the front where Jasmine and I dive into side-by-side cubicles.
‘I thought you were great,’ calls Jasmine through the wall.
‘So did I,’ calls another voice.
‘Me too,’ shouts someone else.
Oh great, I have become an icon for women. This kind of fame I do not desire. I sit on the loo and stare at my knickers.
‘Thanks for your support Jasmine,’ I call back.
‘Oh that’s okay. Toby can’t help it, you know, he just lacks confidence.’
He lacks something that’s for sure.
‘Libby, what sodding loo are you in?’ yells Issy.
I unbolt the door and swing it open.
‘Christ, I disappear to the buffet for ten minutes and you end up in a ballroom brawl.’
We spend five minutes hogging the mirror and complimenting each other before heading back to the ballroom. I stop to check my Blackberry in the vain hope that Alex may have texted me to wish me Happy New Year, but there is nothing. The time is ten-twenty and I stupidly wonder if he will be under the clock, as he said, at eleven forty-five. Now I am being stupid. The man’s engaged isn’t he? It was announced today in The Times for goodness sake. The New Year will hold many changes for me. I can’t possibly go back to work at Randal and Hobson, or if I do, I can’t continue to be Alex’s agent. I decide to go to the clock anyway, after all, there’s no harm in just going there is there? On the other hand, I will just get all upset and maudlin and start the New Year in a miserable state. I spend the next hour avoiding the champagne and the buffet and just allow myself a few peanuts. I closet myself in a corner where I can clearly see everyone, and that includes Alex’s old friend. Toby makes several half-hearted attempts to approach me, but Serena puts a stop to each one by either pulling him onto the dance floor, or into her arms for a long smooch. I do not feel in the slightest bit jealous, she’s welcome to him. After an hour of this I decide it’s probably best to go home and dive under the covers before the clock strikes twelve.
‘I’m going home,’ I announce.
‘Before midnight?’ says a surprised Jasmine.
‘I’d much rather.’
‘I’ll get Jonathan to call you a cab,’ says Issy giving me a hug.
I walk out of the ballroom, turn left, and glance nervously at the clock. A lone waiter clears some glasses that sit at its base. He gives me a hurried smile and rushes away. The distant sound of music and people shouting reaches my ears. The clock says eleven-thirty and of course, there is no sign of Alex. Why am I so stupid to think he would be here? The music gets louder as Issy exits the hall leaving the door open.
‘Taxis are very busy tonight, but one should be here soon.’
‘I’ll wait downstairs, get some air. Thanks Issy.’
‘I’ll see you in the morning, well more like the afternoon probably,’ Issy says while giving me a long hug.
I force a laugh and with one hand clutching the banister and the other my shawl I make my way down the stairs to the exit passing smug loving couples. I pull the shawl tighter and begin walking to the taxi rank. It is a full five minutes before I realise that I don’t have my handbag.
Chapter Thirty-One
Harry leaves the ballroom at the same moment that Libby realises she no longer has her handbag. He is hot and tired and wishing that midnight would hurry up so he can go home. The coolness of the foyer helps a little and he pulls a handkerchief from his pocket to wipe his forehead. A passing woman gives him an admiring look and, not wanting to miss any opportunity, he reciprocates with a warm inviting smile. Harry had decided a long time ago that he was not going to settle down with just one woman, not when there were so many to enjoy. He takes a quick glance at the clock to see how much longer before it strikes midnight. Only twenty-five minutes, and that will pass quickly. His eyes alight on something sitting on the base and he walks a few paces closer to see what it is. He picks up the small sequinned clutch bag and stares at it for a moment trying to decide if it would be impolite to open it. Finally, he clips open the clasp and looks inside. He pulls out a lipstick, a small mirror and some tissues before retrieving what he really wants, a Blackberry. He scrolls to owner and smiles.
‘Libby Holmes, well I never, and just where are you?’
He strolls back into the hall and looks around. The place is packed and it is almost impossible to spot anyone. He wanders to the bar, but she isn’t there. He sees Issy and approaches her.
‘Hi, how are you doing?’
Issy smiles while looking at him warily.
‘Hello,’ she says cautiously. ‘Have we met?’
He looks vaguely familiar but she can’t for the life of her think where she has seen him before.
‘Sorry, we haven’t actually met but I saw you with your friend Libby in Dirty Doug’s a few weeks ago. You were talking with Ace.’
Recognition sparks in her eyes and he holds out Libby’s bag.
‘She left this by the clock.’
Issy groans.
‘She was outside waiting for a taxi,’ she says. He hears the despair in her voice. She grabs a shawl from the back of one of the bar stools but Harry immediately puts a hand on her arm.
‘It’s freezing out there; you’ll catch your death. I’ll go and see if she is still waiting and if I don’t find her I’ll come back with the bag.’
He sees the relief on her face. He grabs his jacket and runs down the stairs to the exit. In his haste he crashes into a woman who is coming in and knocks her handbag from her hand sending the contents sprawling into the street. After helping her retrieve them he turns to the taxi rank and hurries in the direction of the woman who is walking towards him.
Alex
Alex didn’t know what the hell he was doing. It wasn’t like him to be indecisive but he really couldn’t make a decision, at least, not one that he felt was the right one. It had been a hellish day and his hopes that it may now improve seemed unlikely. What a way to begin a New Year. He’d always liked things in his life to be clear cut. He hated loose ends and right now there were far too many. At least tonight he would be able to clear up quite a few with Penny’s parents. Not quite how he had hoped to spend his New Year’s Eve. He checked his watch and was pleased to see he was on time. Penelope Vistor opened the door and on seeing Alex smiled widely.
‘Oh honey, as always, you are dead on time.’
‘I’m never late.’ It was almost a growl and she leaned forward hesitantly to kiss him.
‘Mummy and daddy are waiting.’
He exhaled and followed her into the lounge where Penelope’s parents greeted him warmly.
‘Right, old chap, let’s get this wedding organised,’ bellowed her father.
Chapter Thirty-Two
How could I have been so stupid? Who leaves their handbag behind? I try to recall when I had put it down. Of course, I had laid it on the clock base when I had put my shawl around me. That means I have to go back in and then I will probably miss my cab, and that means I will be stuck at the Dome for New Year with all those smug loving couples. I could kill myself. God, I’m heading towards becoming another statistic. Several drunks lurch towards me and I quickly sidestep them. What am I doing walking the streets in the middle of winter. I’ll be mistaken for a call girl next. Actually, there’s a thought. I mean, how hard can it be? And of course, there is plenty of money in it. Obvi
ously, I wouldn’t go in for that sado-masochism stuff. I’m not into pain or perversion. Shoving a tampon up my fanny is about as masochistic as I’ll ever be.
‘Hey, how are you doing?’
Good Lord, I’ve pulled already, nothing like starting the New Year with a bang. Heavens, did I really just think that? I look up to see it is Alex’s friend, whose name I can’t for the life of me remember.
‘Oh hello,’ I say pointing to the Dome. ‘I’m just going back.’
‘For this,’ he says holding out my handbag.
‘Oh.’
‘You left it under the clock.’
‘Along with my brain it seems.’
He laughs.
‘How are you? I heard you went to Cambodia with Ace.’
Oh and where did you hear that? I wonder. My teeth are chattering and my toes, I swear, must have turned blue. I point to the small café on the corner by the taxi rank.
‘I really must go in,’ I say trying to stop my teeth from murdering each other.
‘Oh God. Yes of course.’
He opens the door and ushers me inside.
‘It is a bit cold,’ he says draping his jacket around me. I quickly push my frozen hands into the pockets.
‘How is Alex?’ I ask haltingly.
No, no don’t tell me. I really don’t know why I asked. I really don’t want to hear any more about the wedding.
‘A bit pissed actually, haven’t you spoken to him?’
Not for several days actually. I shake my head. Best to take the Fifth Amendment here I think.
‘Did you see the wedding announcement that Penelope’s parents put in the papers?’
Now I’m nodding. It’s like someone slit my throat and pulled my puppet strings.
‘Talk about Fatal Attraction,’ he mumbles. ‘Do you want a coffee, or hot chocolate?’
‘What do you mean?’
‘I mean do you want a hot drink, something to warm you up.’
‘You said Fatal Attraction, what did you mean?’ I repeat.
‘Penelope’s insane behaviour, don’t you agree?’
