by S J Crabb
Reaching into her bag, she pulls out her business card and whispers, “My private number. Add it to your contacts and when you take over, ask your assistant to call mine and set up a lunch date. We have lots to discuss.”
Without even acknowledging Heidi, she glides off and takes the hand of a rather distinguished gentlemen who guides her onto the dance floor.
“Who was that bitch?” Heidi whispers and I laugh out loud. “Bitch is the right description and to answer your question, no one important.”
As I place the card in my bag, I vow not to call her for lunch. I still can’t stand the woman and have no desire to confide anything to her.
As the evening progresses, we find a few people to talk to, but to be honest, it feels a little flat. This isn’t panning out how I thought it would and aside from the odd familiar masked face, it’s like being cast loose in a sea of strangers. I suppose half way through the evening, Heidi nudges me and whispers, “Don’t look now but there’s a man over there who’s been staring at you all evening.”
“Me?”
I make to turn and she hisses. “Not now. In a minute turn around as if looking for the waiter and clock the guy standing by the fire exit. Tall, dark and incredibly sexy with a black mask.”
Feeling a little foolish, I do as she says and my eyes stare straight into the darkest eyes I have ever seen. Gleaming black hair, frames an incredibly handsome face, at least I think he’s handsome because his mask obscures my view. As Heidi said, he is looking at me with such a lustful look I feel quite violated and turn quickly away. “Wow, you were right. I wonder who he is?”
Heidi shrugs. “I’m not sure but he appears to be on his own. At first, I thought he was looking at me but then realised, as usual, he wasn’t. What will you do if he comes over?”
“I’m not sure. He looks a little intense.”
Heidi nods. “You could say that. Sexy, though. He may be the stranger you need.”
For some reason, my legs shake a little as I imagine being anywhere near the intense looking man and then we hear, “May I have the honour of dancing with the most beautiful girl in the room?”
Looking up, I see a good-looking young man, with sandy blond hair, wearing a rather fetching mask decorated with braid and feathers. He is smiling at Heidi who appears to have lost the power of speech, as she just nods and take the arm he offers her. Laughing to myself, I watch with interest as they take to the floor and his arm encircles her waist with a confidence that makes me smile. He then sweeps her off to dance and by the look on her face she is loving every minute of it.
Suddenly, I feel the gentlest breeze on the back of my neck and inhale a scent so intoxicating it brings my senses alive. Then a voice whispers in what appears to be an Italian accent. “May I have the pleasure of this dance, bella ragazza?”
My breath hitches because I know it’s him. The dark disturbing man from the fire exit and as I turn, his arm wraps around me and he spins me so quickly I don’t know which way we go. I am pulled tightly against a hard-masculine chest encased in a black tuxedo. I can’t even raise my eyes to look at the man who has literally swept me off my feet, as we spin around the room like something out of Strictly. His hand gently caresses the small of my back and as I feel his fingers tease my naked skin, I shiver with something I never thought I had in me. Desire.
One dance becomes two and we still don’t speak. He draws circles on my back and involuntarily I press closer against his hard body. He whispers strange words in my ear, and just the sound of them makes me weak with longing. This is the stuff of dreams. I wonder if this is what Aunt Daisy experienced? European love with a man who is so perfect he should be in a museum for women’s fantasies.
On the third dance, he whispers, “Le cose belle arrivano quando non le cerchi.”
“What does that mean?” I whisper, so turned on I can’t cope.
His breath fans my face as he says huskily, “Beautiful things come when you're not looking.”
I’m glad I’m wearing a mask because I must be as red as the dress I’m wearing. Luckily, I don’t need to reply because suddenly, I am whisked through the doors onto a roof top terrace that sparkles with strings of fairy lights and flickering church candles.
The music is now fainter and yet still provides the tune for our dance, and as my partner guides me around the terrace, I feel my heart thumping with anticipation and every nerve inside me is standing to attention.
As we dance, he pulls me closer and strokes my cheek with a feather light touch and I almost cry as I see the stars twinkling in the black sky above. Leaning down, he whispers, “Sei Bellissima. You’re beautiful.”
Leaning back, I look into those dark eyes and my breath hitches as I see the stars twinkling above his head and watch his mouth lower to mine. As our lips meet, the moment feels intoxicating, forbidden and dangerous and as we share a long lingering kiss, I feel like a princess.
One kiss turns to two, then three, and when he pulls back, his eyes glitter in the darkness and I shiver at how intense they are. He says huskily, “You are cold.”
Wrapping his arm around me, he spins me so my back is to him and folds me inside his jacket where the heat caresses my bare skin and makes me tingle inside. For a moment, we look out across the skyline and I swear I see a shooting star. Then he kisses the back of my exposed neck with soft, delicate kisses and I melt inside. I lean back against him and want this moment to last forever. As moments go, it’s perfect – he’s perfect and I can’t believe my luck.
Then, almost as quickly as he came, he goes, moving away swiftly and as I turn, I just see his back disappearing through the double doors into the ballroom. Quickly, I hitch my skirt and follow him inside, but he has apparently drowned in a sea of people. Frantically, I look for him everywhere but quickly realise he doesn’t want to be found.
As I touch my lips where his were last, my heart sinks as I realise, he’s gone. Just for a second, I stand alone and confused, and then a feeling of excitement grips me as I realise what just happened. I danced under the stars with a man I just kissed, and that’s all that matters. A one off, a brief interlude and a memory to cherish forever. The fact it was the most romantic moment of my life means I’ll always remember it and one day I will look back on it and appreciate it for what it was. A moment in time so special nothing will ever tarnish it. It will always sparkle in my memory and never fade with the usual arrows that life aims at us.
As Heidi walks up, hand in hand with her own Prince Charming, I smile happily because from the look in her eyes, she has fared one better than me.
As they swap numbers and make plans to meet the next day, I am happy for her, knowing it’s doubtful I will ever meet my stranger again. Then again, maybe I will, only the stars know the answer to that.
♥21
After the excitement of the ball, real life hits hard. Being on leave from work is great if there’s something exciting to do, but the only thing occupying my mind at the moment is the list. I still haven’t heard from Finn, which means he, like the Italian stranger, are just delicious moments to savour when I need them. I’m feeling quite low about everything, especially as Heidi appeared to grab all the luck that night and has started dating Thomas Everett, the man she danced with at the Ball. He works for a men’s magazine and is responsible for a team of people who sell the advertising. He seems a great guy and I’m happy for them both but I still feel cheated out of something.
Mum looks at me sharply as I stir my tea relentlessly. “What’s up?”
“Nothing.”
“Yes, there is, you’ve stared into that cup of tea for five minutes and I can read your expression like a book.”
“What does it say then?”
“That something’s up.”
Setting the teaspoon down, I sigh heavily. “I’m just unsure about things at the moment. I mean, Aunt Daisy’s death has really shaken me up. I never thought she would die so suddenly and it’s made me look at my own life a little more carefully
.”
“In what way?”
“Well, there are a lot of comparisons in our lives. We are both successful, although she was way more successful than me, but I still have time. Both of us have never met ‘the one’ and I’m worried that I’ll end up the same as her, alone.”
Mum’s eyes soften and she reaches out and squeezes my hand.
“You’re still young, Lily. Thirty may seem ancient to you, but really you’re just starting out. Love will find you when you least expect it and the only thing you have to do is give it the opportunity.”
“What do you mean?”
She smiles. “Get out more, join a club where young men go. Try internet dating but only reputable sites and never give your personal details out to anyone – mother’s orders. Don’t bury yourself in work all the time and look at the bigger picture. Just live life, darling, and don’t become all work and no play because where’s the fun in that? You see, you need to strike a balance between the two. It’s all well and good having money and power, but what’s it worth if you’ve got no one to come home to at night? You need someone to share your success with and your failures. Someone who will always have your back and be there when you need them the most. We are not designed to be solitary animals, darling, although God help me, I’m tempted sometimes.”
We laugh and she smiles brightly. “Even though I moan constantly about your father, I wouldn’t be without him. He’s the salt to my pepper and the left shoe to my right one. We go together and one without the other is virtually useless. You need to find your pairing, darling, and then you will see that life is a lot more meaningful.”
I know she’s right, in fact, she says it most weeks anyway, but it’s easier said than done.
“Easy for you to say, mum. For instance, I thought doing this list would open up a few opportunities. You know, like Aunt Daisy. I thought I might find that special someone as I believe she did once. The thing is, the men I’ve met so far are a little strange if you ask me.”
“In what way?”
“Well, there was my camping trip leader, of course.”
My heart leaps at just the mention of Finn’s name and mum looks interested. “Tell me about him.”
“There’s not much to tell, really. He was rude, abrupt and condescending, but he grew on me. It was only two days, but I thought we reached an understanding but he hasn’t even called once.”
“Was he supposed to?”
“Well, not exactly but...”
“Why don’t you call him then?”
“And say what?”
“I don’t know, pretend you left something behind and did he find it? Say you’re thinking about booking another trip and can he recommend one? You know, the list is endless with just a little imagination.”
“No, if he wants to call me, he will. I’m not looking desperate. Anyway, then there was the man I danced with at the ball.”
Mum looks interested. “Tell me more, in fact, that was over a week ago, why are you just telling me now?”
Ignoring her annoyed expression, I shrug. “Again, there’s nothing to tell really. We danced a little and maybe shared a romantic kiss and then he left when my back was turned and I didn’t even get to know his name.”
“Typical Italian. Love them and leave them just as quickly.”
Suddenly, she looks worried. “Oh my goodness, you don’t think…”
“What?”
She leans closer and whispers, “That it was Aunt Daisy’s Italian friend, the one who is now on the run.”
I start to laugh and she says crossly, “Don’t laugh, Lily, it could be more than just a coincidence for all you know. Maybe he tracked you down to the ball and targeted you. I’ve seen this happen many times before. He’s a serial killer and is targeting rich and powerful women. He has disposed of Aunt Daisy for reasons only known to him, and now you’re next in line. I’m guessing he knows everything about you. He’s probably got one of those photographic walls in his apartment and is planning his next move. You’re not safe.”
“Who’s not safe?”
My dad enters the room looking tired and my heart goes out to him. He has a lot on his plate at the moment with the funeral and his usual business, and it’s definitely taking its toll.
Sinking down on a bar stool, he rips off his tie and says wearily, “I could murder a cup of tea, Sonia. Anyway, I repeat, who’s not safe?”
Mum folds her arms. “Lily.”
Dad looks alarmed and I shake my head. “Don’t listen to her. I told her I danced with an Italian man at the ball and now she thinks he’s Aunt Daisy’s murderer coming after me. Honestly, mum. You really should get a hobby or something, you’re getting worse.”
Dad shakes his head and laughs softly. “She’ll never change, she’s always had an unhealthy interest in murder most foul. I blame the fact Midsomer murders is on most days clouding her mind.”
Mum shrugs. “Well, I’m just saying.”
She heads over to make the tea and I say softly, “Are you ok, dad?”
“Yes darling, I’m fine but I heard from the coroner today.”
Mum looks up sharply and I see the excitement spark in her eyes. “Is it… murder?”
I think she holds her breath as dad rolls his eyes. “No, it’s as I said, a heart attack brought on by several blocked arteries. Apparently, she didn’t stand much of a chance and at least it was quick.”
Mum almost looks disappointed. “So, we can go ahead with the funeral then.”
He nods. “Yes, I think it’s looking like the 13th so we should get in touch with her friends and family and finalise the arrangements.”
We fall silent as we contemplate the upcoming funeral. This is it, the last thing we can do for Aunt Daisy and it seems so final. Once again, my thoughts turn to the list and I feel a renewed interest for the task.
Mum hands dad his tea and says with interest. “So, what else have you accomplished on that list of yours?”
“Not a lot really. I’m learning that most of the things require either a trip to the seaside or abroad somewhere. These are monumental things that you can’t find in the high street, you know. Take riding an elephant. I’m not sure they allow that at London Zoo, if they even have any. Then there’s to ride a horse on the beach. That requires a lot of planning, and I don’t think it includes the donkeys on Bournemouth beach. You see, I’m learning that it’s all well and good wanting to do these things but near impossible to do them in four weeks. I need to re-think this list because I can’t see how it can be done.”
I watch my parents share a knowing look which irritates me. “What’s that look for?”
Mum smiles softly. “Put the list on hold for a while, darling. It will just tear you apart. Maybe now the funeral is going ahead we can get that out of the way and you can book a week away somewhere nice. Try not to think of the list and you’ll probably find it just happens naturally, anyway. Chill out, darling and go with the flow, it’s for the best, take my word for it.”
Reluctantly, I have to admit that she makes sense for a change. The list is one thing, but it’s lacking that special ingredient that makes it special. So far all it’s brought me is trouble and heartache and I think she’s right. I’m going to park it for a while and concentrate on me for a change.
♥22
Exactly ten days later, the morning of the funeral arrives and I can’t believe it’s here at last. We have gathered at mum and dads where the cars are arriving to take us to the church, and I think we’re all relieved that the day has finally come.
The dress code is to wear bright colours because Aunt Daisy was always fond of dressing extrovertly. She hated black and banned it from consideration on any house she designed, and there was not a trace of it in her wardrobe.
I’m wearing a fuchsia pink satin dress and mum is pretty in canary yellow. Dad has his safari suit on and nan is wearing her red polka dot dress and pink shoes. Grandad is in navy blue with a green shirt and the only one missing is my brot
her Mark who couldn’t make it back from Australia in time.
The doorbell rings and mum sighs. “Here we go.”
She returns with dad’s cousin Veronica and her husband Tony. True to the theme they are dressed accordingly and my aunt’s dress is a pretty pale blue and uncle Tony looks splendid in his beige suit.
My aunt moves across with outstretched arms and hugs my nan crying, “You poor thing, I’m so sorry Auntie Sandra.”
Nan’s eyes fill with tears and my grandad wipes his own away. I feel so bad for them both. They aren’t in the best of health themselves, and this is devastating.
Luckily, the funeral director comes in and says reverently, “The cars are ready.”
As we gather our things and make our way outside, my heart breaks as I see Aunt Daisy waiting for us in her coffin inside the white hearse. The flowers that cover her are bright and vivacious, and her name is spelled out in daisies of every colour.
As we stand and watch the car move slowly away, we steel ourselves for the ordeal ahead.
Several hours later and it’s all over. We return home exhausted and emotional and yet with a feeling of closure.
As mum puts the kettle on, we sit around in the living room and nan kicks off her shoes and says sadly, “So, that’s that then.”
Grandad puts his arm around her and says softly, “We did her proud.”
Nodding, nan gives a half smile. “She would have loved the service. You outdid yourself, David, your speech was so moving.”
Dad just smiles sadly. “It was the least I could do. I still can’t believe she’s gone. She was always here and I never thought for one moment her life was going to be cut short.”
