by Lynsey James
Emma chuckles. ‘You never know; he might show up in a stretch limo with a red rose between his teeth!’
‘I doubt it, since this isn’t an eighties romantic comedy!’ I reapply my lipstick one more time and sigh. ‘I can’t believe I’ve messed things up so badly.’
Emma pats my shoulder and perches on the edge of my bed so she can sit next to me.
‘You thought you were doing the right thing; I’m sure he understands that,’ she replies. ‘Have you got your speech ready?’
I snort. ‘Have I hell! I didn’t even really want to do it in the first place, so writing it hasn’t really come easily. I’ll just wing it when I’m up there and see what happens.’
A honking horn from outside tells us our taxi’s here. I pick up my coat and bag and follow Emma outside. Any notions of Scott showing up at my door, dressed in a tuxedo and carrying a bunch of flowers are long gone.
Now, it’s time for me to go and do something that scares the life out of me.
Chapter Thirty
The George Hotel is the epitome of opulent glamour when we arrive. There’s a red carpet bordered by velvet ropes and a doorman to open any approaching taxi doors. He’s even wearing a top hat, which Emma and I find really impressive.
‘Wow, look at this,’ I breathe as I step out of the taxi. ‘Amanda’s really gone all out, hasn’t she?’
The grand Georgian building that houses the hotel is lit up like a Christmas tree and there’s a real buzz about the place. I watch as our old classmates arrive, some in clusters and some by themselves. A few haven’t changed at all, but some are virtually unrecognisable.
‘I told you Michelle Ferry had had a boob job,’ Emma whispers to me. She points and I look over to where a redhead’s walking up the red carpet, arm in arm with a burly man. Her chest precedes her; they look like they’re making a desperate bid for freedom from her tight white satin dress.
Emma and I make our own trip up the red carpet, stepping through the revolving door into the grand foyer. A giant chandelier hangs down, suspended by what looks like a gossamer thread. The floor is tiled marble and the walnut reception desk is shaped in a sleek curve. Everything about this place oozes glamour.
Amanda’s revelling in her role as hostess with the mostest. She’s standing by the door that leads into the function room, giving air kisses and insincere hugs to anyone who comes her way.
Her smile widens when she sees me. ‘Cleopatra, you made it! I was starting to think you wouldn’t turn up.’
She clamps her hands on my arms and pulls me in for air kisses before I can escape. She does the same with Emma, who shoots her a very dirty look.
‘Any trouble from you tonight and you’ll have me to deal with,’ she growls.
Amanda frowns. ‘I’m not sure I know what you’re talking about! There isn’t going to be any trouble tonight; I want everyone to have fun.’
She turns round and marches into the function room. Her legs can barely move in the tight bodycon dress she’s wearing, which makes her look ridiculous.
‘Let the games begin!’ I say as we follow her. I cast one final look over my shoulder to see if Scott’s shown up. As predicted, there’s no sign of him.
*
Much as I hate to admit it, the reunion is fantastic. Amanda always did know how to throw a party. There’s a live band playing Stereophonics and Oasis covers, a chocolate fountain, and even an ice sculpture shaped like Silverdale Comprehensive. This event is several steps up from the usual stale sandwiches and dodgy iPod docking station.
Emma and I take the opportunity to mingle. I end up talking to Rosie Thompson, a lovely girl I sat next to in maths class.
‘Amanda was telling me you’re doing the speech tonight?’ she says, flipping her long red hair over her shoulder. ‘That’s so brave of you! What are you going to be talking about?’
‘Oh, this and that!’ I look around me to see if I can see Emma, but she’s nowhere to be found. I really wish people would stop asking about the bloody speech. ‘Anyway, what have you been doing with yourself?’
‘I’m in human resources at Franklin Financial,’ she replies with a smile. ‘It’s a great job; I absolutely love it.’
Franklin Financial rings a bell, but it takes me a couple of seconds to remember where I’ve heard it before.
‘Doesn’t Amanda work in wealth management there?’ I ask.
Rosie’s face sours. ‘Not any more, she doesn’t. She filed some really dodgy expense claims and got caught two months ago. She was put on gardening leave pending a disciplinary hearing, but she didn’t turn up. I called her to tell her to sort it out a couple of weeks ago, but she hasn’t. Guess she doesn’t value her job as much as she should.’
Suddenly, a lot of things start falling into place. Amanda’s grand return to Silverdale was around the time she was put on gardening leave from her job, and the phone call she got in the bakery must’ve been the one from Rosie, telling her to sort the mess out. All the while, she’s been trying to make me feel bad about my life when hers wasn’t so perfect.
I spot her over by the buffet table and decide to have it out with her. I leave Rosie talking to a couple of our old classmates and make a beeline for Amanda. Now is the perfect time to draw a line under this once and for all.
‘How’s gardening leave treating you?’ I ask.
She flinches, but doesn’t react immediately. ‘I don’t know what you’re talking about.’
‘Cut the crap, Amanda; I know what happened at Franklin Financial. You’ve all but lost your job, haven’t you?’
She bows her head and nods. ‘Yeah, I have. My job doesn’t pay as well as everyone thinks it does and I’ve got a circle of friends with a taste for the high life. To keep up with them, I started charging things to my company expense account. Biggest mistake of my life because it cost me a job I absolutely love.’
I’m surprised to see she actually looks remorseful. I’ve never seen that look on her before.
‘So you’ve been making me feel like rubbish for working in a bakery in Silverdale because…?’ I leave her to finish the sentence.
‘Because I was jealous, OK? Are you happy now? When I looked you up on social media, you seemed so settled. Like everything was going well for you. My life was going down the toilet and I hated that yours wasn’t.’
‘How are you paying for all of this?’ I ask, gesturing to our fancy surroundings. ‘This can’t have come cheap.’
‘Credit cards,’ Amanda replies, rolling her eyes and folding her arms. ‘I bet you’re loving this, aren’t you? Finally, you’ve got one over on me! Well, lap it up, Cleopatra, because I’ll be back on top before you know it.’
The venom in her voice makes goosebumps rise on my skin.
‘What the fuck is your problem? You’ve hated my guts since school, made my life hell and yet you’ve never said why. Whenever I’ve asked, you’ve just hid behind the name-calling and insults you’re so fond of. So, come on, let me have it right now before I go and do my speech. Why do you hate me so much?’
My enemy narrows her eyes at me as she shoots me a murderous glare. The bravado lasts for all of ten seconds before she sighs and lets out a groan.
‘Because everything just came so easily to you! People liked you from the moment they met you, you were an amazing dancer, and you seemed to be good at everything. I wasn’t like that; I had to work to make people like me and do whatever I could to fit in, even if that meant making victims out of other people. As you can probably tell, not a lot’s changed since then. When you came back overweight after your accident, you were an easy target to make fun of. Believe it or not, I’m not proud of what I did. I saw how miserable I used to make you, and I heard the rumours about you overeating then throwing it all back up. I know it’s ten years too late, but… I’m sorry. I made your life hell to try and fit in with some horrible people.’
She puts her hand out, but I don’t shake it.
‘Amanda, you did more than make my life
hell. You shattered my self-esteem; it’s taken me years to build it back up, and I still struggle with it now. What you did to me affected my whole life, and I’ll never forget that.’
She nods and goes to turn back towards the buffet table. I put my hand on her shoulder to stop her.
‘…But I can try to forgive. I’m not saying I definitely can, or that it’ll be easy. But I’m willing to try.’
I shake her hand and she manages a small smile.
‘Adam Hartwell’s been asking about you, by the way,’ she says, pointing to the other side of the room. ‘Why don’t you go and say hello to him?’
I look and see him holding court with a group of his old school friends. They’re hanging on his every word as he regales them with a story. I wonder whether to go over and give him what for about the Leavers’ Dance all those years ago, but I decide not to. I’ve vanquished enough demons tonight, and the memory of the Leavers’ Dance incident doesn’t hurt any more. It’s humiliating, of course, but I don’t think I’ll be carrying it round with me from now on. Not now I’ve had it out with Amanda.
I catch Adam’s eye for a brief second and he does that wink he was famous for at school, followed by a toothy grin. I don’t get the same butterflies I used to, but return the smile anyway. It’s nice to be nice, after all.
‘Nah, I think I’ll leave him to it,’ I reply. ‘Besides, I’ve got a speech to do.’
‘What are you going to say?’ she asks.
I shrug. ‘No idea. I guess we’ll see in about five minutes.’
‘You don’t have to do it if you don’t want to. I’m sure they won’t mind.’
I shake my head. ‘No way am I missing this.’
*
Before I know it, it’s time to take to the stage to deliver my speech. I step nervously out onto the stage to face the gathered crowd as my stomach does somersaults.
‘Hi, everyone,’ I say into the microphone, wincing as it gives off feedback. ‘Some of you might know me as Cleopatra, others might know me as Cleo, but some will recognise me as Chunky Monkey.’
A ripple of laughter echoes round the room. My heart does a little skip to see that the name really doesn’t bother me any more. It’ll always niggle a bit, but I think I’ve laid the ghost of Chunky Monkey to rest.
‘Tonight’s speech was supposed to be about what I’ve done in the last ten years since I left school. I know some of you out there have done incredible things and are probably more qualified to deliver this speech than I am. Some of you might’ve gone off backpacking round the world or moved far away from Silverdale to start a brand-new chapter of your lives. As for me, I did a dive with sharks last week!’
Another ripple of laughter. My nerves start to settle a bit; I’m better at this public speaking thing than I thought. The public-speaking module at the Inspire course has definitely helped.
‘I’d say the biggest thing I’ve done in the last ten years since I left school is learn to love myself. I don’t mean that in a big-headed way; I mean being comfortable in my own skin and accepting who I am as a person. You might remember that I was pretty overweight during my last few years of school. Well, I carried that around with me after I left. I let it hold me back, stop me from going after what I wanted, and generally dictate how I lived my life. I have a lot of regrets about how I’ve spent my time since I left Silverdale Comp. I know I was capable of doing more, of being more, but if there’s one thing I’ve learned it’s that life can surprise you…’
I trail off as I hear the function room door open and close. My jaw drops as I see Scott walk in and take his place in the audience. He flashes a smile at me and mouths keep going.
‘Um… where was I? Oh yeah, life can surprise you in the most wonderful ways. Sometimes it takes you off the path you imagined for yourself and leaves you wondering what your next move is.’ I look at Amanda as I say this. ‘But even if this happens and you can’t see a way forward, remember there always is one. It’s never too late to completely change your life or dream new dreams. I found this old bucket list I made just before my dream of having a dancing career was ruined, and it inspired me to make a new one. For years, I thought dreaming was pointless because I didn’t think I was capable of anything. Coming here tonight has ticked off do something that scares me and I’ve started learning a new language. Don’t worry, I won’t break out any of my dodgy Italian tonight! I’ve also taken steps to conquer my body issues, which was perhaps the hardest thing of all. Luckily, I’ve had some great help along the way for that one.’
I catch Scott’s eye and he smiles.
‘I might not have completed the list yet, but I do know one thing: I’m going to have a lot of fun trying. I read this quote by Eleanor Roosevelt that stuck with me: the future belongs to those who believe in the beauty of their dreams. Lately I’ve learned just how true that is. Anyway, I won’t ramble on any longer, so you can get back to the free champagne! Thanks for listening, everyone!’
I come off the stage to thunderous applause. Emma meets me and throws her arms round my neck.
‘You rocked it! Well done, you!’ she squeals. ‘I’m so proud of you.’
‘Thank you. I’m shaking like a leaf now, though!’ I hold up my quivering hand to show her.
Out of the corner of my eye, I can see Scott approaching. He stands just outside of my and Emma’s embrace and directs his gaze at the floor.
‘Did you call him?’ I whisper to her.
‘Nope,’ she replies. ‘Although I might’ve recorded the first bit of your speech and posted it online where he would see it. But that was only a few minutes ago, so he must’ve already been on his way here. Anyway, go and speak to him!’
She slinks off towards the buffet table, leaving Scott and I alone together.
‘Hi—’
‘You look—’
We laugh as our voices jar, and fall silent.
‘You were great up there,’ he says, gesturing to the stage. ‘Really inspiring.’
I feel my cheeks redden. ‘Thanks. I had no idea what I was going to say; I was winging it the whole time.’
He smiles. ‘Well, you did brilliantly.’
‘I… I didn’t think you’d come,’ I reply. ‘I’m glad you’re here, though.’
‘Yeah, I would’ve been here earlier, but I got stuck in traffic. Must be all the party guests, eh?’
I sigh. Time to cut the small talk, I say to myself.
‘Look, Scott, I’m really sorry for pushing you away. I thought I was doing the right thing because of what you went through with Natalie. You said yourself how much it messed you up, and I saw how you were when I was sick.’
‘It did worry me to see you like that,’ he admits, ‘but if I’d thought I couldn’t handle it, I’d have told you so that night I walked you home from the pub. Remember, when you told me about your problems with bingeing?’
I nod. ‘I was just trying to protect you. The last two weeks without you have been hell; I’ve missed you so much. When I did my shark encounter, I was so gutted you weren’t there to see it. But I told myself I was doing the right thing by staying away from you until I got better, even if it did hurt me to do it.’
Scott reaches for my hand, but pulls back at the last second. ‘So… where’s your head at now? Do you still think we should stay away from each other?’
I shake my head. ‘No. I do need to get better, Scott; that hasn’t changed. But I want to do it with you by my side. I’ve fallen for you, and I don’t want to keep you out of my life any more. It’s been killing me, not having any contact with you. But I can’t promise it’s going to be smooth sailing, or that I’ll never relapse again.’
Scott takes my hand this time and brings me closer to him.
‘Cleo, I don’t care how rocky things get, as long as I’m with you. I want to help you complete that bucket list of yours, maybe add some new dreams to it along the way. I want to be there for you when things get tough, hold you when you cry, and just be with you. I’m wi
lling to give this a shot if you are. What do you say?’
I pull some faces as I pretend to mull it over, even though the answer is terrifically simple.
‘You’ve got yourself a deal,’ I reply.
And with that, he kisses me.
Turn over for an exclusive extract from The Silver Bells Christmas Pantomime, the gorgeous winter romance from Lynsey James…
Chapter One
Being an out-of-work actress is never easy.
You don’t know where the next role is coming from, if you’ll ever get your “big break” that’ll catapult you to stardom or even if your agent will ever call you again.
It’s even harder though, when you have to take the job from hell to make ends meet.
For me, that came in the form of dressing in a gaudy green and red outfit, wearing huge pointed ears and saying ‘welcome to Santa’s grotto’ fifty times a day. As someone who hates Christmas and has committed to never celebrating it again, pretending to live and breathe the festive spirit was my idea of hell.
But an out-of-work actress had to do what an out-of-work actress had to do.
I leaned against the wobbly cardboard structure that passed for Santa’s grotto, wondering how it had all come to this. I’d gone from the bright lights of Broadway to wearing massive shoes with bells on in the town I grew up in.
Then I remembered exactly what had happened for me to come home again. The salty tang of tears stung the backs of my eyes and I took a deep breath, pushing the burgeoning memories to the back of my mind. Now wasn’t the time for a trip into the past. As long as I didn’t think, everything would be OK.
A hand on my shoulder startled me. I turned round to see Frank, the scruffy, pot-bellied store Santa Claus standing next to me. His fluffy white beard had slipped slightly and the acrid odour of stale sweat and beer wafted my way.
‘Do me a favour and stick the costume on for a bit, will you? I’m not feeling too clever.’
My eyes widened in alarm. ‘Me?! No, no, no, I’m an elf! I-I can’t play Santa, for God’s sake!’