by Emma Davies
‘Oh, I decided not to wear it.’
Hugh’s still looking in the mirror but his gaze travels the length of my body. ‘Well, I’m sorry to have to say it, Alys, but I did wonder what had come over you. It really wouldn’t have been your thing at all. No, what you have on is far more suitable.’
‘But I’ve worn this dress countless times before.’
‘I admit that perhaps it would have been nice to have something new, but that suits you, Alys, it always has. You look lovely.’
‘Well I feel like a dumpy middle-aged woman.’ I meet his look. ‘And yes, Hugh, I’m well aware that’s what I am.’
He frowns. ‘I didn’t say that. I don’t know why you need to be so defensive, I said you looked nice and you do. Besides, that dress is far more appropriate. It’s less revealing for a start, and far more elegant than some showy number.’ He pauses. ‘Are you going to wear your hair up?’
‘I might do. I haven’t decided yet.’
Hugh checks his watch. ‘We shall need to leave in fifteen minutes and no later.’
I’m well aware of the time, and I’ve been ready for ages; it really doesn’t take long these days. I narrow my eyes, squinting at my reflection. ‘What do you think? I’ve time to do it either way.’
He makes a show of considering my question. ‘Down, I think. Up can be a little… messy, and I’m not sure today is going to be that sort of occasion. Besides, your hair is such a beautiful colour – you know how I like to see it hanging down your back in a glossy sheet.’
I cross the room and flick on my straighteners.
I must admit I was surprised, albeit reassured, by Scarlett and Rupert’s choice of venue for their engagement party and, now that we’re here, incredibly grateful. There are quite a number of posh cars in the car park and I think, were it in some swanky London hotel, I would feel even more uncomfortable. As it is, The Grainger is a modest size, slightly shabby, but comfortable, with a variety of reception rooms which, although linked, still allow plenty of places to hide.
I’m standing in one of them now, almost an anteroom. It’s no bigger than ten-foot-square, but its windows overlook the front courtyard and that’s why I’m here, waiting for Esme to appear. She’s bringing the cake straight from The Green Room and Nancy is driving her over in their liveried van. I’ve seen photos of the cake so I know it’s amazing, but for Esme’s sake I can’t help but feel an extra glow of pride that she’s going to arrive and have everyone know that she works for such a prestigious restaurant.
A roar of laughter from the other room catches my attention and I look over to see Ed and Tash standing in the centre with Rupert and another man called Ollie, who’s going to be Rupert’s best man. I have no idea what they’re talking about but it’s Tash who catches my attention. She looks stunning. As tall as Ed in her heels, the dress I made her fits like a glove, softly draping around her shoulders with a little nipped-in waist and a floaty skirt. The colour of the roses on the fabric perfectly brings out the hint of pink in her cheeks and makes her hair glow. It’s elegant and sexy at the same time and, with her hair piled into a messy updo, her exposed neck will make most men in the room want to caress it with their fingers.
She and Ed arrived before we did and I saw Hugh’s eyes widen at the sight of her dress as we walked into the hotel to say helIo, but he didn’t say anything. Of course not. Not there in front of everyone. But he will. Later.
The sound of tyres on gravel draws my gaze back outside to see Nancy and Esme arriving. It’s a little past noon and the formal part of the day is scheduled for one, although in truth the party began yesterday, on Friday afternoon. A handful of Rupert and Scarlett’s friends from London all arrived for a weekend-long celebration, which so far has seen a boating trip and an extended dinner with dancing into the small hours. It’s only the family that have been restricted to today’s festivities but, even so, things won’t wrap up until tonight. There’s a formal lunch with a toast for the happy couple and the cake, of course, and then tonight guests will be treated to a buffet, courtesy of Nancy.
I hurry into the foyer to open the doors, grateful that there are no steps up into the hotel. I had horrible visions of Esme proudly carrying her creation, missing her footing, and splattering an enormous quantity of sticky icing over the walls and floor. But even now I can see Nancy opening the rear doors of the van to pull out some folding contraption that magically becomes a trolley. Of course; nothing would be left to chance.
Nancy sees me and gives a little wave just as Esme climbs from her own seat. She still manages to take my breath away. Her bright-red dress should clash horribly with her hair, but it doesn’t. She looks incredible. A cascade of corkscrew curls hangs down her back, those at the front held away from her face by invisible clips. It’s how I used to wear my hair, back when… I chase the thought away. She flashes me a nervous smile, but then Nancy is beside her, saying something that makes her laugh, and I see what she has become in just a few short days; part of a team.
Esme collects her cake from the back of the van and slides it expertly onto the trolley before standing back, deferring to her employer to bring the cake inside. But instead I’m touched to see Nancy take a step backward and wave Esme on. I watch as she slowly wheels her creation toward me, grinning like a Cheshire cat as Nancy looks on, clearly proud of her protégée. It brings a lump to my throat for some reason.
‘Hey Mum,’ says Esme, as she reaches me, a little shy now. ‘What do you think?’
But my words are stuck, held fast by my emotion. All I can do is gaze in awe at the stunning two-tiered cake and nod with tears in my eyes.
Esme looks heavenward, grinning. ‘Oh, Mum…’ she says, pretending to be exasperated but I know she’s pleased by my response. ‘Just pray for me. If it’s too hot in there it’ll all melt.’
The cake itself is formed from two circles of simple but exquisite ruffle-iced layers, one on top of the other. They’re decorated with a handful of sugar-paste rosebuds, no more, but surrounding the whole thing is a delicate covering spun from caramel, gossamer threads dotted with tiny balls that catch the light like dew drops on a web. I’m no baker but even I know that this can only be done at the last minute; the fragile shell is prone to breaking and, as Esme fears, to softening and collapsing.
I watch as she slowly pushes the decorated trolley forward, towards the stand at the rear of the main room where the cake will be displayed until it’s ready to eat. The crowds of people part like the Red Sea as she moves among them and, by the time she is not even halfway, tentative claps have given way to a rousing round of applause.
‘She did good,’ says Nancy, the biggest smile on her face.
‘Oh, she did very good,’ I reply.
Nancy’s arm reaches around my shoulders, pulling me in as my emotions threaten to get the better of me. ‘You’d better get used to this,’ she says. ‘That girl is going to go far. There’s just something about her.’
Scarlett comes running across the room, exclaiming in delight at the wondrous thing Esme has created before pulling her into a hug. Rupert is close behind, not yet familiar enough with Esme to go for the full-blown family embrace, but he kisses both cheeks, quite enough to make her blush like crazy. They chat for a couple of minutes before I see Esme gesturing towards us and, as I watch, all three begin to walk in our direction.
‘Ey, up,’ mutters Nancy. ‘Best gracious smile on…’ She steps forward. ‘Rupert!’ she exclaims, offering each cheek for the ubiquitous air kiss. ‘It’s so lovely to see you again.’
‘Ah, Nancy… and here you are still looking as young and gorgeous as ever, I see.’ He creates a little more space to allow Scarlett to stand by his side, a solicitous arm in the small of her back. ‘And I can’t tell you how excited I was to hear about your new venture. Having just bought a place in this neck of the woods, the thought of schlepping back to London for some decent food wasn’t altogether appealing, but now…’ He leans in a little closer. ‘And of course I’
ll be sure to tell all my friends,’ he whispers, giving a conspiratorial wink. ‘Especially since you’ve given us such a generous gift to help celebrate our impending nuptials.’
‘Would you?’ gushes Nancy. ‘Oh, you are a dear. And it’s my absolute pleasure.’
She turns slightly toward me, rolling her eyes, an expression that only I can see. ‘And you must be Scarlett,’ she says, turning back and holding out her hand. ‘It’s so lovely to meet you. Even though I’m insanely jealous of course. Most of London has been chasing Rupert for years.’
Scarlett giggles. ‘And a few of them caught him, I believe.’
‘Well, I’m heartbroken, obviously, but many congratulations on your engagement.’
Scarlett catches at Rupert’s arm. ‘Well, it’s lovely to meet you too, and Rupert’s told me all about The Green Room,’ she says. ‘I can’t wait to come and give it a try.’
‘You must,’ replies Nancy. ‘As soon as we’re open. And on the house, of course… Now, I do hope the hotel wasn’t too put out over our muscling-in on their buffet?’
‘Not at all,’ replies Rupert. ‘Once I’d explained the situation, they were only too happy to oblige.’ Which I guess means that Rupert is probably still paying them anyway but no one’s going to mention it. It’s obviously very much a you-scratch-my-back-and-I’ll-scratch-yours kind of situation, but maybe that’s just how it goes in the circles they move in.
‘And you have an amazing cake too. Isn’t Esme talented? I’m going to have to watch myself with her around.’
I feel a touch on my arm as Hugh materialises beside me. ‘That’s my girl,’ he says, beaming at Nancy.
‘Oh, my husband, Hugh,’ I say.
Nancy takes his proffered hand. ‘You should be very proud,’ she says, laughing as Esme squirms with embarrassment. ‘And I’m immensely pleased to have her on board. It’s almost as if she’s one of the family.’
I force down the smile that’s trying to flit across my face at Nancy’s words. I’m sure it’s an oblique reference to Hugh’s criticism of her family, but Hugh would have a fit if he thought anyone was making fun of him.
‘And just in case you were wondering,’ adds Nancy, looking at Rupert and Scarlett. ‘I had absolutely no hand at all in the making of your cake. It was all down to Esme; the original idea, the planning, and the execution. All I did was mop her fevered brow.’
Rupert checks his watch. ‘We’ll be sitting down to eat shortly, Nancy, but you’d be very welcome to join us. Or have a drink perhaps, at the very least?’
She smiles but shakes her head. ‘I should get back,’ she says. ‘Otherwise I fear my promise to deliver you with a buffet this evening will come unstuck. But that’s extraordinarily kind of you.’ She holds out her arms to Esme. ‘I shall see you later but for now go and enjoy the party, you deserve it.’
They hug and goodbyes are said. I don’t know why but I walk Nancy to the door. ‘Thank you,’ I say. And we both know it’s for more than just helping Esme to deliver her cake.
‘I hope you enjoy the party too,’ she says. She knows I haven’t been looking forward to it. ‘And that your mother-in-law isn’t too put out that we’ve taken over the buffet arrangements.’ She gives me a cheeky grin.
I turn, seeking Angela out from among the gathered people. ‘That’s her,’ I say. ‘In the midnight-blue dress.’ Amusingly she’s standing talking to Tash, who is probably finding it screamingly funny that she’s actually managed to end up not wearing the same colour dress.
Nancy nods. ‘And who’s the tall woman beside her? Wow, what a figure.’
‘That’s Natasha, my sister-in-law.’
‘She looks stunning. I love her dress. It wouldn’t suit me, more’s the pity, I’m too short, but it’s lovely. You have such an attractive family.’
All except me, I want to say. Impulsively I give her another hug. ‘Thanks, Nancy, I’ll see you later.’
I wait in the doorway until the van has reversed and pulled away. I know I’m stalling for time – Hugh is waiting for me inside, and I can practically guess what he’s going to say.
‘Come back and join the party, Alys, we’ve hardly seen you.’
I smile. ‘I know. I guess I was just a little nervous, for Esme, you know. I wanted to make sure that everything was all right.’
‘Which it is. She’s outdone herself, and you can see for yourself what the reaction is.’
I can. Esme is still surrounded by a crowd of people, no doubt eager for all the details. ‘I’m just so pleased for her. I know it’s early days, but she seems to have really fallen on her feet.’
‘So then relax,’ replies Hugh. ‘Nancy does indeed seem lovely and is obviously well thought of by those who know her. She had Rupert practically eating out of her hand.’
I flick him a glance, but there doesn’t seem to be any undercurrent to his remark. He smooths the knot of his tie. ‘I had no idea that caterers could be so well known.’
I raise my eyebrows. ‘I don’t think you’d really call them caterers, Hugh. Nancy is a first-class chef who runs a first-class restaurant. I know we don’t move in the same circles as Rupert’s friends clearly do, but in London The Green Room has something of a celebrity status. They have some very high-profile customers. She is providing a buffet this evening, but that’s as a favour to Rupert. It isn’t something she would normally do.’ I register the change in his expression. ‘And I know what you’re thinking, but that isn’t Nancy’s intention for this new restaurant. It’s a lot more low-key, so you needn’t worry about Esme.’
‘I just don’t want her to get into something that’s way over her head.’
I lay a hand on his arm. ‘She won’t, Hugh. She has her head very firmly on her shoulders. Look… I know this isn’t your first choice of career for her,’ I say gently. ‘But some day our daughter would like to run her own restaurant and I’m afraid you’re going to have to get used to the idea. I don’t think it’s about to change any time soon.’
‘Which is fine for you…’
I stare at him, his face slightly puffy from the heat. ‘No one suggested that she become a chef, Hugh, she just decided all by herself… And honestly, if she’s going to do this thing, then I’d much rather she do it in a company with Nancy at the helm. She’s being taken good care of.’
He looks as if he’s about to say something else, but instead nods, motioning towards the place where Nancy was parked just a moment ago. ‘I hadn’t realised you two had become so friendly.’
I give him a sideways look. He doesn’t know that I’ve had coffee with her practically every morning this last week. ‘She’s that sort of person,’ I reply. ‘It’s hard not to be.’
His lips are slightly pursed. ‘Yes, well, I perhaps wouldn’t get too friendly, Alys. She is Esme’s employer at the end of the day, and I’d hate there to be any awkwardness if something went wrong.’
I feel a flicker of irritation. Why does Hugh’s concern always have to cross the line into something far more negative? ‘What on earth could go wrong?’
But he has no reply.
I take his arm, smiling. ‘Come on, they’ll be serving lunch soon and, as you quite rightly pointed out, I’ve hardly said hello to anyone yet.’
I try my best but by late afternoon I’ve sunk into a despondent gloom. Esme and Tash, my usual defenders at family occasions, have got chatting to a couple of Rupert’s nephews and I can’t say I blame them. The men are young, good-looking, incredibly well dressed and have an air of success about them that you can almost smell. By contrast, having tried to mingle with a few of Scarlett’s friends, I realised pretty quickly that they’re people I will never have much in common with.
Scarlett loves to tell people she was actually christened Charlotte, but later changed her name by deed poll, and it gives a good indication of the group she mixes with. In fact, I’m surprised she didn’t pick Rebellion as her middle name while she was at it, she’s practically made it into an art form. Consequent
ly, despite us being roughly the same age, her friends, while polite, don’t really want to spend too long with a middle-aged housewife and mother who must seem incredibly boring. So instead I’ve been saddled with Angela for the last hour and I’ve almost had enough.
I look up as Hugh comes back towards me, carrying a cup of tea. A glass of wine would be lovely but, as usual, I’m the designated driver. I don’t really mind but it’s not much fun watching everyone else get merrier and merrier while you’re stone-cold sober.
‘There you go,’ he says as he sits down. ‘That should perk you up a bit.’
I bite my tongue. ‘Thanks, Hugh. I’m thirsty, it’s really hot in here.’
Like most people he’s taken off his jacket, although his tie is still firmly in place. ‘Not a bad do though,’ he comments, taking a swig from his glass of beer. ‘The free bar helps. And Rupert’s bunch seem a lively crowd.’
I nod. ‘Bright young things,’ I say, smiling. ‘But yes, Scarlett and he seem well suited. They’re having a whale of a time. Good luck to them, I say.’
Hugh is studying me. ‘Is everything okay?’ he asks, voice low as his eyes dart sideways towards his mother.
‘Yes, fine. Sorry, Hugh, I’m just not much in the mood for a party today. Tired, I think.’
‘I thought you seemed a bit glum.’
I breathe in deeply and pull a smile onto my face. ‘A bit out of sorts, but I’ll be fine.’
He nods, looking out across the room to where a group of people are still sitting at the dining tables as serving staff clear around them. ‘Why didn’t you tell me that you were making that dress for Natasha?’ he asks.
My smile freezes. ‘Oh, I don’t know. Maybe I just wanted to know what you really thought about it.’
He looks puzzled. ‘But I would have told you honestly what I thought, whether the dress was for you or her. I don’t see what the difference is.’
