‘Smile, Jessie! Over here, Sam! Can we just get a shot of the two of you together? Side by side?’ is all you can hear as we both step out into what feels like an electrical storm.
‘So you’re back together again?’ yells out another journalist and Sam and I both answer at the same time.
‘Yes!’ he answers back, having to shout over all the noise.
‘No. I’m…I’m really just here for the birthday party,’ I say, but no one even hears me. Impossible to in this crowd.
Then he automatically slips his arm around my waist and twirls me this way and that, beaming his mega-watt smile into whatever lens happens to be shoved into his face. It’s completely surreal. There’s about a dozen people roaring out questions at me and of course I can’t hear them all in the cacophony of noise. So I’m acting like a mute puppet, going through the motions with Sam prodding me towards even more cameras, all while I feel I’m silently screaming inside and no one can hear.
And that’s when it happens. A reporter from Channel Six, who I know of old, taps me on the arm and thrusts a mike under my nose, while a camera whirls right in front of me, almost blinding me with the overhead light. ‘Hi Jessie,’ she says, ‘I only have one question for you, if that’s OK? This big reunion with Sam Hughes. Why now after all this time? Do you think it’s a coincidence that you broke up after you were fired from Channel Six, but now that you’re reinstated and the cloud of suspicion over you has been lifted, suddenly Sam is back in your life again?’
Her question completely stops me in my tracks. Because it’s an exact mirror of what Steve said to me last night. The facts are right there, staring me in the face. If I were still a disgraced has been, would I ever have heard a peep from the likes of Sam ever again? Of course not, not in a million years. Suddenly I have to get away from this circus. Like, now. Before I know what I’m doing, I’ve broken away from Sam and am teetering inside on my too-tight heels, almost ready to fall over, they’re that sore to walk in.
Got to find Steve. And Sharon. Got to apologise and tell them that both of them were right and I was wrong. Because Sam hasn’t changed a bit, not a single bit. He thinks I’m a winner again and so I’m allowed back into his rarefied world, but that’s the only reason why. I don’t think he even loves me, or possibly ever did love me. I was just an asset that turned into a liability that’s now miraculously transformed back to being an asset again. But before I speak to anyone else, first of all I somehow need to find the words to say this to his face.
The thing about Bentleys is that it’s actually a hotel as well as a restaurant, so the party is being held on three different levels simultaneously, Sam having taken over the entire building for the evening. It takes about six goes to get his attention, mainly because every time I try to collar him, someone drags him off for a photo. The place is packed out, but it’s typical of any shindig Sam organises: fifty per cent media, forty-nine per cent business contacts and the remaining one per cent are friends and well-wishers.
At one point, I manage to manoeuvre him into a corner, telling him I need to speak to him urgently. But just as he gives me his attention, a barman comes over with a trayful of drinks and asks us what we’d like. Champagne for both of us, Sam orders.
‘Do you have any Bulmers?’ I ask, desperately dying for a drink. Anything to get me through this.
‘Bulmers? Did you just ask for Bulmers?’ Sam repeats, as stunned as if I’d just asked for a pint of kitten’s blood.
‘Yeah, that’s what I drink now.’
‘Don’t be so ridiculous, Woodsie. That’s a knacker drink. Stop embarrassing yourself, you’re in Bentleys now, you know. Not some scobie bar in Whitehall.’ Then he says imperiously to the barman, ‘She’ll have champagne.’
I don’t even get a chance to have it out with him, to say no thanks, these days cider is my drink of choice and he knows where he can shove his champagne, because just then a photographer from Social and Personal is over wanting a picture of him, so off he goes.
Nor can I even see any of my family, who are probably up partying in the bar at the very top of the building. Sharon and Steve included.
But one problem at a time.
God, it’s like time has stood still tonight, but eventually, ages and ages, it might even be hours later, I finally do nab Sam and elbow him up against a bookcase. ‘I have to talk to you,’ I say, as calmly and as firmly as I can. ‘Now. I’ve been trying to get your attention all evening and I’m sorry but this won’t wait any longer.’
‘It’ll have to, Woodsie, some of the gang from The Apprentice are here and I need to schmooze them. Oil them up a bit, you know how it is.’
Oh sod this. I’ll never get him alone, so I may as well just say it straight out. ‘Sam, I’m sorry to do this to you, on this of all nights too. But I can’t do this. I can’t just slot back into the role of your girlfriend again. Because it’s not what I want. I thought it was, but it isn’t, not at all. And what’s worse is…I don’t even believe you really want me back either. You just…you like being surrounded by winners, that’s all.’
Now he’s looking at me furiously. ‘Jesus, Woodsie, you really pick your moments, don’t you? Can’t we just enjoy the party and discuss this later on? Look, Nathaniel and Eva are over there and you haven’t even said hello to them yet.’
‘What you have to understand, Sam, is that I’m human. I made a mistake and you froze me out because of it. But suppose I make another one down the line? What then? I can’t be your perfect girlfriend any more. Because I’m far from perfect. I just want to be me.’
Great speech. Shame Sam whipped out his mobile and answered a call on it before I’d even finished. Well, I said what I came to say and that’s it as far as I’m concerned. With a smile and a simple, ‘Goodbye Sam,’ I leave him to it and walk, or rather, hobble on the shoes upstairs to find my family.
I’ve absolutely done the right thing. I’m certain of it, because for the first time all evening, I feel like I can breathe again. It’s like a weight has been lifted from me. I inch my way up the packed stairs and from below, Eva shouts up to me, from the centre of a gang of girls all crowded around her. ‘Jessie! Jessie, come down here! I want to congratulate you!’
I just wave back and keep on moving. Time to leave the past firmly where it belongs, Nathaniel and Eva included.
I was right. In the upstairs bar, I find Sharon and Maggie at the food buffet piling up their plates, meanwhile Joan and Jimmy are sitting at a table right behind us, bending the ear off some guy who’s sitting in between them.
‘Where have you been all night?’ Sharon and Maggie say to me, almost in unison. ‘We were all looking everywhere for you.’
‘Downstairs, breaking up with Sam. Sharon, I need to apologise to you,’ I blurt out.
‘Oh for feck’s sake, Jess, there’s no need.’
‘There is need. Because you were right about Sam. Everything you said was completely right. But I want you to know that I’ve just told him that I don’t want to get back with him. Not now and not ever.’
‘Jeez, how did he take it?’
‘Doubt he even noticed, he was on the phone.’
Then Maggie snorts laughing, ‘I am so putting that in my act,’ she grins, tucking into a plate of quail’s eggs.
‘And another thing,’ I say, now that I’m on a bit of a roll, ‘I’m sorry for telling you about Steve and what he said to me last night. Because he’s a good guy, Sharon, and if he’s the man for you, then I’d be the last person to stand in your way.’
‘He’s not, as it turns out,’ she says, but she’s smiling as she says it.
‘What?’
‘He’s not. The whole way here on his bike, all he could talk about was you. And even since we’ve been here, he’s been constantly looking around for you, but sure it’s impossible to find anyone in this throng. Steve is knickers mad about you, Jessie, and I think you should go for it.’
‘Really?’ I ask, touched at her unselfishness.
‘Really. And hey, if I don’t get lucky with some billionaire here tonight, then I can always go back to Matt again, can’t I? Funny, but now the aul’ eejit is gone, I kinda miss him hanging out of me the whole time.’
I hug her and then suddenly the two of us are laughing.
‘I knew it! I knew you weren’t ready to let him go!’
‘So,’ says Maggie. ‘If you’re not with Donald Shagging Trump any more, then I suggest we eat all his food, drink all his drink, I’ll do my act and then we can all get the feck out of here.’
‘Best idea I’ve heard all day,’ I smile back.
‘Unless you’d like me to sort him out for you, that is, Jessie. ’Cos I will if you want me to. I reckon I’ve about two stone on him.’
My God, you should just see us. Joking and giggling together. We’re like three sisters. Proper sisters.
‘No need,’ I grin at Maggie, ‘but thanks for the offer all the same.’
Next thing, Joan is over to us. ‘Wonderful news, girls! In a million years, you’d never guess what, so don’t even try!’
The three of us just look at her blankly.
‘Don’t look now,’ she says, dropping her voice, ‘but that man sitting beside Jimmy is an entrepreneur and thinks our IPrayForYou.com idea is the canniest thing he’s ever heard. Says he may even invest in it! And he’s not even drunk! What do you say to that then? Your old ma’s going to be rich!’
We all congratulate her and she beams as proudly as if she’s already been handed a businesswoman of the year award. Then, out of nowhere, something strikes me. ‘What time is it?’
‘Five to midnight.’
‘Already? Oh, shit, shit, shit, I’ve got to go.’
‘But you can’t go!’ says Sharon. ‘There are drinks present. The best kind too; free drinks.’
‘I have to…I’ve a show!’
I race out of the bar and am just winding my way down the packed staircase heading for the main door, when next thing, the crystal sandals, that have been crucifying my feet all night, finally get too much for me and I stumble over. To be caught a split second later by Steve.
‘Hey, I’ve been looking everywhere for you,’ he says simply.
‘I’ve been looking for you too. Can you give me a lift to Radio Dublin?’
‘Oh come on, you can’t do a show tonight! I’ve already called Ian and told him to put out a “Best of” tape. Stay. Enjoy your night. It’s cool.’
‘Steve, seeing you right now has been the best part of the night.’
Suddenly, he lights up. ‘You mean that?’
And I tell him everything. That I’ve broken up with Sam once and for all, and that he was right about everything. About the real reason why Sam wanted me back, about everything. We’ve finally made our way outside onto the street now, and it’s cool and deserted and for the first time all night, I finally feel calm and at peace.
‘So…’ he says, turning towards me and looking down from his ridiculous height. ‘Would this have anything to do with what I said to you last night?’
‘Steve, it has everything to do with what you said last night.’
I look back up at him, yearning for him to kiss me properly. His lips on mine would explain what’s going on inside me so much better than anything. But he’s staring down at me instead. Taking all of me in, for what feels like an eternity; my eyes, hair, clothes, legs…my whole body. And I’ve never felt so desired in my entire life. Next thing, his arms are tight around my waist and his touch is like a bolt of electricity. Every nerve-ending in me is humming and singing and there’s a watery looseness in my knees as he bends down closer and closer to me. And then his mouth is on mine, warm and velvety and very, very, sexy. Now all the intensity has moved from his eyes to his mouth as we kiss furiously, passionately.
‘Let’s go, baby,’ he groans, breaking away gently.
‘No, don’t stop,’ I whisper, my knees rag-doll limp. ‘Not now.’
‘Hey, I’m not stopping anything. I’m taking you home with me. And if you think I’m ever letting you go, then, Jessie Woods, you’ve another think coming.’
I look at him, drugged with pleasure, and in that exact moment, I know I’m lost. I’m his and no one else’s.
Next thing, we’re both on the back of his bike, zooming through the deserted streets, me hugging him tightly and rubbing up against him every chance I get. Him squeezing my hands and thighs and just about any other part of me he can grip. And we’re going fast, so fast, that one of my crystal shoes slips off and clatters back onto the road, but I don’t bother telling Steve to stop and go back for it.
Because I don’t care. I just want to keep on going, I just want to be with him. Keep Prince Charming and give me Buttons any day.
Last thing I hear is the strappy sandal thudding and bouncing against the pavement as it falls behind us, but I ignore it and smile.
Just like Cinderella.
Read on for Claudia’s
CINDERELLA GUIDE TO DATING
IS YOUR GUY A PRINCE
CHARMING OR A SLIMY FROG?
1. You’re out with a gang of girlfriends for a night on the town. Across a crowded bar, you suddenly lock eyes with that rare and elusive species, the DSM. (Decent, single man.) Does he…
A) Mime at you that his pint glass is almost empty and that if you’re going to the bar he wouldn’t mind a refill. Seeing as how you’re buying, that is.
B) Saunter over to your pals, then after you’ve introduced them, spend the rest of the night chatting up your best friend, who also happens to be a lingerie model for Victoria’s Secret.
C) Try to impress you with his party piece; burping the national anthem.
D) Have eyes for you and you alone; chats you up all night, charms all your friends and then insists on buying round after round of drinks for everyone.
2. It’s that icky, awkward part of the night where you’re exchanging phone numbers. Does he…
A) Scribble yours in biro on the back of his palm, then not call and when you bump into him a week later, claim that he accidentally washed the number off while saving a small child from drowning at sea, the morning after he met you. Honest.
B) Ring you a week later and apologise for the delay in getting back to you, but then explain that the FA Premiership has just started, so his life is basically on hold till cup final day. Like it or lump it.
C) Swear blind that he’ll call, but five days later he still hasn’t, so you actually find yourself contemplating whether to start calling the local A & E units just in case there’s been some kind of horrible accident.
D) Take your mobile number, land line, email address and Facebook details and before you’ve even got out of the cab that night, there’s a message from him just checking that you got home safely.
3. It’s your all-important first date. Does he…
A) Arrange to meet you in a restaurant where you’re a regular and know loads of the staff, then stand you up, thereby maximising your humiliation.
B) Take you to a pub where there’s a match on, then spend the whole night absolutely glued to the big screen and occasionally shouting obscenities at the referee.
C) Take you to an obscure Lars Von Trier movie with subtitles, then spend the rest of the night discussing the minuter points of Dogma 95 with you…in full detail.
D) Take you to the swishiest restaurant in town, wine and dine you, then say it’s his absolute pleasure to take you to places like this so he can show you off properly.
It’s Valentine’s Day. Does he…
A) Forget.
B) Remember only at the very last minute and run over to the garage across the road to buy you a wilted bunch of chrysanthemums.
C) Take you to dinner, then produce a calculator when the bill arrives, explaining that you did insist on having that side order of peas and he didn’t, so it’s only fair the bill be divided accordingly.
D) Whisk you off on the Eurostar to Paris, then spend the whole evening saying
that, with you, every day is Valentine’s Day.
5. You’re both invited to a charity black tie ball, but like all good little Cinderellas, your Nitelink bus leaves at midnight. Does he…
A) Shrug when you’re leaving, point you vaguely in the direction of the bus stop, then before you’re barely out the door, start chatting up one of the cocktail waitresses.
B) Faithfully promise that he’ll leave when you’re leaving, then when it’s time to go, refuse to be dragged away from the bar, because he’s just ordered a round.
C) Escort you to the bus stop, then say he’s heading back to the party as the tickets did cost a small fortune and it’s a shame to let them go to waste.
D) Let you get a bus home? Alone? Are you mental? He insists on driving you there and back, door to door and won’t take no for an answer.
6. You’ve invited him home to meet your stepmother and stepsisters for Sunday lunch. Does he…
A) Reluctantly say he’ll be there, then ring you at the last minute claiming he had a work emergency and couldn’t make it. On a Sunday afternoon.
B) Arrive late, then ask if anyone would mind if he watched the big match on Sky Sports live.
C) Ask for a guided tour of the house then mentally calculate how much it’ll sell for on the open market and consequently, how much your inheritance from it would be.
D) Be the perfect house guest, arriving with flowers and champagne for all your family, then even offer to help with the washing up.
Personally, I Blame my Fairy Godmother Page 34
