by Rosie Ruston
She dragged Frankie across the room towards a group of guys who were clearly vying for Alice’s attention.
‘Hey, Alice.’
She’s stunning, Frankie thought, her heart sinking as Poppy called to a tall, slender girl with flawless skin and hair so glossy that it could have been digitally enhanced. Poppy had mentioned that Alice was doing fashion studies at uni and it showed. She was wearing a pure white dress with shoulder straps and in her hair she wore a single pure-white gardenia and even her eyebrows, which were pencil thin, were studded with tiny stick-on sequins.
‘Perfect timing,’ Alice whispered to Poppy, smiling to show perfectly even, whiter than white teeth. ‘When guys start spouting chat-up lines straight from comic strips, I’m so out of here.’
She began to move away.
‘Alice, wait, I want you to meet Frankie,’ Poppy said. ‘She’s a mate of mine and she’s a cousin of Mia Bertram, Nick’s girlfriend. I told you about the Bertrams, right?’
‘You did!’ Alice nodded, scanning Frankie from head to toe and then fixing a fake smile on her lips. ‘Tennis court, big paddock, bossy aunt and the chance of some discounted designer gear if I play my cards right?’
‘Alice! I didn’t say . . .’
‘OK, so I added that last bit myself!’ Alice laughed. ‘But you know what? I’ve been trying to remember where I’d heard the name Bertram before, and it’s just come to me! I met this rather sweet guy at a party.’
‘That’ll be Ned,’ Frankie replied stiffly. ‘He’s around here somewhere.’
‘Ned?’ Alice frowned. ‘That might be the one, although I’m not sure – I meet so many guys that I get muddled over names.’
‘Get you!’ Poppy retorted, voicing precisely what Frankie had been thinking.
‘Oh, I didn’t mean it to come out like that,’ Alice said hastily, the silver bracelet on her right wrist glinting as she held her hand up in mock horror. ‘Truly, I meant – well you know what boys are like. They see a girl on her own and they think they’re in.’
‘Mmm,’ Poppy mused. ‘I wouldn’t know. I’m so rarely on my own.’
Nice one, thought Frankie, as Poppy gave a breezy wave and sauntered across the room, picking up another Bellini from a waiter on the way.
‘So, Frankie,’ Alice said, ‘give me the lowdown on some of the guys around here. Poppy says I have to keep my hands off Charlie Maddox but having met him for ten seconds when we arrived, she’s got nothing to worry about there. Definitely not my type.’
‘What is your type?’ Frankie asked, trying to sound laidback and disinterested.
‘Clever, ambitious, witty and rich.’ She laughed. ‘Although I have been known to accept three out of four if the guy is really fit. So are you with anyone?’
‘Hopefully not.’ The guy who had spoken was so like Alice – the same dark hair, blue-green eyes and identical aquiline nose – that it didn’t take a genius to work out that this was Henry, and Frankie found herself instinctively taking a step back as he positioned himself firmly between her and his sister.
‘This,’ Alice confirmed, ‘is my twin brother Henry. He doesn’t want to be here and he’ll probably be in a foul mood all evening.’
‘I didn’t want to be here,’ Henry said, raising an eyebrow at Frankie, ‘but that was before Poppy pointed you out to me. That’s when everything changed.’
Oh yuck, Frankie thought. As come-ons go that ranks with a Year Seven’s worst attempts.
‘Poppy says you’re a writer and a prize-winning one at that,’ Henry went on. ‘I’d love to read your stuff. Give me your blog address.’
‘But I don’t —’
‘Why not?’ Henry interrupted.
‘I did think about it,’ she admitted. ‘My brother has one – he posts his photographs and —’
‘LADIES AND GENTLEMEN, YOUR ATTENTION PLEASE!’
The Master of Ceremonies, in a red tailcoat and white waistcoat, mounted the podium at the top end of the marquee and banged his gavel on the table.
‘Oh God, I do hope this isn’t going to be horribly formal.’ Alice sighed. ‘I do so hate these all-age dos – I reckon grannies and aunties should stay at home out of the way and let those of us who know how to really party get on with it!’
‘If it was my party, I’d want all my family to be around,’ Frankie replied. ‘No matter what.’
‘Really? That’s so sweet, especially considering,’ Alice replied.
Frankie felt cold suddenly. ‘Considering what?’
‘I mean, Poppy mentioned that you come from a broken home and that your mother’s had all sorts of problems and your dad’s a total —’
‘Poppy talks too much,’ Frankie replied through clenched teeth.
‘BEFORE SUPPER IS SERVED, SILENCE FOR MR NICHOLAS RUSHWORTH!’
‘Speeches? Now?’ Alice muttered. ‘How boring!’
The MC stepped back as, to a burst of applause, Nick, holding Mia firmly by the hand, stepped onto the podium, stumbled and fell flat on his face.
The MC smiled – he obviously knew Nick well. ‘Drunk already, Mr Rushworth?’ he joked. ‘Never could hold his drink! Up, up up!’
Amid raucous laughter and slow handclaps, Nick staggered to his feet, beaming and apparently taking all the banter in good part. He held up his hand and the room fell silent.
‘Laugh all you like, but I had good cause to be knocked off my feet because, well . . . the thing is – you’ll all be surprised – I was surprised —’
‘Get on with it, mate!’ someone shouted.
Nick turned to Mia who was nodding encouragingly. ‘Half an hour ago I asked Mia to marry me and she said yes! We’re engaged!’
Amid an outburst of cheers, applause, gasps and hugs, Mia flashed a huge diamond ring at the photographer.
‘Engaged?’ Alice gasped. ‘She only looks about eighteen.’
‘She’s twenty-one,’ Frankie said, hardly able to believe what she’d just heard. ‘And they’ve been going out since way before I knew them. Wow!’
‘But to think about getting married . . .’ Alice shook her head.
‘What a waste!’ Henry said, gawping at Mia with a look of disbelief on his face. ‘Why would anyone in their right mind even think about getting married at our age?’ He turned to Frankie. ‘Getting tied down is so – primitive! At any age, come to think of it. Don’t you agree?’
Frankie was about to reply when Jemma dashed up to her and grabbed her by the arm, a huge smile on her face.
‘I knew he was going to propose to her! I knew all about it but Nick swore me to secrecy. He borrowed my finger last week to get the ring size right! That’s why I tried to stop Dad going away.’ She glanced at her sister, who was pouting coyly for the camera. ‘Isn’t it so romantic? They’re going to move in together – Nick’s parents are buying them an apartment in Brighton and —’
‘In Brighton? Their own flat?’ Frankie gasped. ‘Just like that?’
Despite having moved in these circles for three years, there were still times when the way the other half lived took her breath away. She knew the Rushworths were rolling in money and that they doted on their only son but still – a flat all of their own?
‘Oh come on, everyone knew it would happen sooner or later,’ Jemma said. ‘They’ve been going out for seven years and you know Mia – she always said she couldn’t imagine being with anyone else. And as for the apartment, it makes sense because Nick’s doing viti . . . viti . . . that studying wine growing thing at Plumpton.’
‘Viticulture,’ Frankie murmured.
‘And when Mia’s finished her event management stuff at Brighton Uni she’s got a placement at the Hotel du Vin,’ Jemma said. ‘Lucky sods.’ For a moment, she looked downcast. ‘It’s not fair – Mia’s getting married and she’s getting a flat, James gets all his debts paid off just to hush up —’
‘Jemma, this is Alice Crawford, Poppy’s stepsister, and her brother Henry,’ Frankie interrupted hastily, pulling a face at
Jemma and talking more loudly than she would have liked to override any faux pas Jemma was about to make. ‘This is Jemma, Mia’s sister.’
‘Hi,’ Jemma said casually and then focusing on Henry murmured, ‘Well, hi!’ in what Frankie could only imagine she thought was a sexy voice but which actually made her sound as if she was coming down with a severe case of tonsillitis.
‘I reckon we should go and congratulate the birthday boy and the bride to be,’ Alice remarked, clearly bored. ‘Come on, Henry.’
‘I’ll be back,’ Henry whispered to Frankie. ‘You are without doubt the only interesting person I’ve met here so far!’
He winked at her and followed his sister through the crowd of giggling guests thronging around Nick and Mia, Jemma hot on their heels.
Frankie would have followed them, had she not seen Ned heading her way.
‘You let her go?’ There was no mistaking the note of accusation in Ned’s voice. ‘Did you tell her I was here? Did she remember me?’
‘Yes, she remembers you,’ Frankie replied, hoping that the irritation and sadness she felt didn’t show on her face. ‘She’s over there, congratulating Mia, if you want to catch her.’
‘Did you have any idea about Mia and Nick?’ he asked, pushing his way past clusters of guests in the direction of the dining room as Frankie struggled to keep pace.
‘Not a clue. To be honest, I don’t get what she sees in Nick.’
‘A villa in Barbados, apartment in Klosters and pied-a-terre just off the King’s Road, I imagine!’ Ned replied sarcastically. ‘I sometimes wonder whether I come from the same gene pool as the rest of my family. Anyway, I sent Dad a photo of Mia and Nick looking like the worst kind of magazine cover.’
Frankie laughed. ‘What does your mum say?’
‘She’s all over the place – furious that she wasn’t told first and excited at the thought of being mother of the bride! At least it’s stopped her talking nonstop about Dad’s award!’ He took her hand as they approached the dining room. ‘Shall we go into supper?’
Frankie’s spirits lifted – Ned wanted to sit next to her! ‘Sure.’ She was determined not to sound over keen.
‘Great – because I’m hoping we can fiddle the seating plan so I get to be near Alice. I have a feeling she might be the one good thing about this evening.’
As promised, an update on evening from hell: Mia’s engaged to Nick R! Ned drooling over sickeningly pretty girl called Alice. Jemma’s coming on strong to Henry and I’m sitting in the loo cos it’s better than dancing with guys with 2 left feet and a total lack of deodorant. Talk tomorrow? Got amazing news but you’ll have to wait till I can see your face! xx
Frankie had sent her text to Lulu and was about to open the cubicle door of the Portaloos in the back garden when there was a clatter of heels and the sound of a familiar voice.
‘You don’t waste much time, do you? And Ned Bertram of all people!’ Poppy’s voice was slightly slurred.
Frankie bristled, then stood motionless, straining to catch the rest of the conversation.
‘What do you mean “of all people”?’ Alice replied. ‘I’m bored, and he’s up for grabs. He said there wasn’t anyone in his life right now.’
Frankie felt a lump rise in her throat as the door to the adjacent cubicle slammed shut and the bolt slid across.
‘And more to the point, he’s going to ask his father if I can use their paddock.’
‘To pitch a tent? Oh great – I get the granny flat back,’ Poppy retorted sarcastically.
‘No, idiot,’ Alice countered. ‘For Fling.’
‘Your horse? I thought you were leaving him down in Sussex with your mum.’
‘Oh, the new man has just decided it’s too expensive to keep Fling at livery,’ Alice replied. ‘Tight-fisted old . . .’
And then Frankie could hear no more over the noise of the loo flushing. When the sound subsided, it was Poppy who was speaking.
‘Anyway, you should watch out, because I reckon Frankie’s got a thing going for Ned.’
‘Well, all’s fair in love and war and – be honest. She’s sweet, but hardly a live wire, is she? Though Henry seemed to think she was worth pursuing. But then again, you know Henry!’
‘Sadly, I do,’ Poppy muttered and Frankie almost laughed.
‘Anyway,’ Alice continued, ‘now that Ned’s agreed to teach me to drive in exchange for me teaching him to ride, we’re going to be seeing a lot of one another. Hey, that’s the fireworks starting – let’s go!’
Frankie didn’t move. A vision of Ned cantering in slow motion with Alice at his side made her feel slightly sick.
There is, however, only so long one can sit in a cramped cubicle, especially when people are queuing outside. She had never been very keen on fireworks and instead of hovering on the edge of the crowd of partygoers, all ooh-ing and aah-ing at the explosions of colour shooting and spiralling into the night sky, she turned towards the house and was about to go in when she saw Henry leaning against the wall and heard the sound of giggling.
‘I mean it. You being taken – it’s a tragedy.’ Henry’s voice was deep and gravelly.
More laughter.
‘You’re crazy, you don’t even know me.’ It was as she thought. Mia’s voice was unmistakable. Frankie stiffened and slipped behind one of the huge stone urns spilling over with aquilegia and fuchsias. She strained to catch their words above the bangs and swishes of the fireworks.
‘All I’m saying is that I wish I had met you a month ago,’ she heard Henry say. ‘Mia, you are without doubt the only interesting person I’ve met here. In fact, the moment I saw you this evening something happened to me that has never happened before.’
Urgh! He even uses the same chat-up lines, Frankie thought.
‘Clearly this something wasn’t engaging your brain,’ Mia replied coyly. ‘I’m engaged to Nick.’
‘Do you love him?’
‘Of course I do – not that it’s any of your business.’
‘Does your heart race every time you see him? Is every day with him exciting and fun? . . . No, I didn’t think so.’
‘I am so not standing around to listen to this!’ Mia said. ‘Who do you think you are?’
‘I think,’ he said pulling Mia towards him and running his hands over her backside, ‘that I am the kind of guy who could show you a good time and . . .’
A rocket exploded followed by a volley of firecrackers, temporarily blotting out his words.
‘Get lost!’
Frankie sighed with relief as she saw Mia push him away and stumble somewhat drunkenly down the terrace steps, calling Nick’s name. Suddenly she stopped and turned round. ‘What kind of good time?’ she called, and then disappeared into the crowd.
She heard Henry give a low chuckle and saw him saunter into the house.
‘Oh babe,’ Frankie heard him murmur under his breath, ‘the fun is only just beginning.’
CHAPTER 5
‘A compliment?
Heavens rejoice, she complimented me!’
(Jane Austen, Mansfield Park)
‘I NEVER THOUGHT I’D BE SO GLAD TO SPEND A DAY IN Northampton in my whole life,’ Frankie said, as the bus pulled away from the village the following Wednesday morning. ‘The last few days have been beyond belief.’ She smiled at Lulu. ‘And it’s really sweet of you to come with me,’ she added. ‘Do I look OK? I mean, kind of professional but not over the top?’
‘You look great,’ Lulu assured her. ‘Anyway, you’re meeting the editor of a regional daily, not the chairman of the BBC! So come on, fill me in on what’s been going on. Sorry about not meeting up on Sunday. Honestly, of all times for my parents to decide we should dash off after church to visit Granny and Grandpa – just as life up here is getting interesting!’
‘I don’t know where to start,’ Frankie admitted.
‘So far I’m up to the end of the party,’ Lulu said, ‘and James going to Mexico and missing it all, which on the one hand is cool
because he won’t have met anyone new, but on the other is the total pits because if he’s going to be away for the festival, I won’t get a chance to pull him!’
‘You’re outrageous!’ Frankie laughed.
‘Well, if you were a bit more outrageous, you just might make more progress with Ned,’ Lulu replied pointedly. ‘Anyway, enough about my disastrous love life. You said something happened on Sunday?’
Frankie thought back to what had happened.
‘So you’ve surfaced at last,’ she’d teased, as Ned appeared at the kitchen door on Sunday morning. ‘Finally slept off the effects of last night then?’
‘I’ve been up ages,’ he had replied. ‘I wanted to talk to Dad and I had to work out the time difference. Guess what? He said yes!’
‘I guess he couldn’t really say no,’ Frankie reasoned. ‘They’re both over eighteen and —’
‘Not about the engagement,’ Ned said. ‘Nick had already won him over by phoning before he asked Mia. No, I mean he was cool about Alice using our field and paddock to graze her horse. What’s more, I’m going to clean out the old stable so she can use that too. I can’t wait to tell her. I’m off to the Grants now.’
‘Can’t you just ring her?’
‘Well I could, but I wanted to see her face when she heard the news. Besides, I thought now was as good a time as any for her to have her first driving lesson. Well, not her first ever, but her first with me.’
‘Oh.’ Jealousy had gnawed at Frankie’s stomach with an intensity that took her by surprise. ‘I thought . . . I mean you did say you’d take me out driving before lunch.’
‘Did I? Oh, so I did. Sorry. Still, we can do it any time, can’t we? This afternoon – we’ll go then. It’ll be a good excuse to escape because Verity Rushworth is coming over to talk engagement announcements and photos in Country Life with Mum!’
‘And . . .’ she’d hesitated.
‘What?’ Frankie detected a faint note of impatience in his voice.
‘Nothing.’
‘No, go on. Do you need me for something else?’
Yes, but I’m not likely to get it, she thought.