Christmas at Tiffany's

by Karen Swan

  Cassie looked down at herself – shiny, painted, shaped nails, cuticles pushed firmly back; swingy glossy hair, perfectly blow-dried; designer wardrobe bought at cost at sample sales. ‘I think that’s probably it, isn’t it?’

  ‘No. There’s something else. It’s . . .’

  ‘My make-up?’

  Suzy shook her head.

  ‘It’s something about . . . your energy or something. You’re moving differently. When you turned just now, it wasn’t how you usually move . . . There was a bit of a . . . wiggle in your hips,’ she said, trying to work it out. ‘Holy Cow! You’ve got a man!!’

  Cassie blushed bright red and went straight back to her schoolgirl self. ‘Suzy!’ she cried, mortified to have her shout it out in front of Archie.

  Suzy clapped excitedly, delighted with herself for having discovered the secret without being told. She grabbed a huge handful of popcorn. ‘Tell me everything!’

  ‘Absolutely not,’ Cassie said, her eyes flicking over to Archie, who looked just as fascinated as Suze.

  ‘Oh, bloody hell – bog off, Arch!’ Suzy said, whacking her husband on the shoulder to shoo him away. ‘She’s never going to dish the dirt with you hanging around like some old pervert. Go and stack the dishwasher. God forbid you or Henry should ever help around here.’

  Archie leaned in as close to the screen as he could, planting a big smacker on it. ‘I’m pleased for you, girl. You have some fun,’ he beamed. ‘Don’t worry, I won’t eavesdrop – I’ll hear all about it from Suze later.’

  Cassie burst out laughing as Suzy hit him over the head with a cushion and a brief pillow fight ensued, which Suzy, of course, won.

  ‘Right,’ Suzy gasped finally, a feather in her hair, as Archie trotted out of the room. ‘Where were we? Oh yes!’ She leaned forwards till she was practically going to topple off the sofa. ‘So – are you bonking yet?’

  Cassie covered her eyes with her hands, peering at Suzy through her fingers. Suzy’s hand – full of popcorn – was poised in mid-air. Clearly, this moment was too big to munch through.

  ‘Yes,’ she whispered, her eyes star-bright. ‘Last night.’

  Suzy dropped the popcorn. ‘Oh. My. God!’

  They stared at each other over the Atlantic. They both knew what a big deal it was for her. Gil was the only man she’d ever been with.

  Suzy started munching double-time. ‘Was it good?’

  ‘Mind-blowing. Every time.’

  Suzy gasped. ‘How many times?’

  Cassie giggled. ‘Four.’

  ‘I hate you!’ Suzy cried, throwing a piece of popcorn at the screen. ‘Where were you?’

  ‘At his.’

  ‘Did you stay the night?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘And how was it this morning?’

  Cassie sighed. ‘Lovely. He went out and got me breakfast, and today’s issue of WWD.’

  ‘Women’s Wear Daily!’ She almost choked on her popcorn. ‘Oh well, then that’s definitely love!’ Suzy quipped.

  Cassie stuck her tongue out at her.

  ‘When are you seeing him again?’

  ‘Wednesday. He’s flying to Costa Rica this afternoon.’

  ‘Costa Rica? What is he – a coffee salesman?’

  ‘He’s a fashion photographer,’ Cassie admonished, giggling.

  That brought Suzy up short. ‘Oooooh, Cass,’ she said, sucking on her teeth. ‘Photographers are . . .’ She shook her head.

  ‘What?’

  ‘Well, they . . . you know, they’re . . .’

  ‘What?’

  ‘Well, they’re surrounded by beautiful women in hardly any clothes most of the time. They don’t make the most reliable boyfriends.’

  ‘That’s such a cliché,’ Cassie said, pooh-poohing her. ‘Anyway, it’s not like I’m looking to marry the guy or anything. It’s only a bit of fun.’

  ‘I just don’t want you to get hurt, that’s all.’

  ‘Well, I think we’re all a bit too late on that score, Suze.’ She sighed heavily and tried to smile, but Suzy carried on saying nothing, not even eating, which was even more disconcerting. ‘Look, Gil hurt me more badly than I’ve ever been hurt in my life, okay? That’s the bad news. The good news is that no one could hurt me again as much as he did, so I reckon this is a win-win situation for me now.’

  Suzy smiled – somewhat sadly – through the screen. ‘I guess that’s one way of looking at it.’

  ‘Don’t worry about me! I’m a big girl!’ she said, just as Archie sauntered back into the room. He had stripped down and was wearing just a pair of pink and green mini-gingham checked boxers. ‘Bloody hell!’ Cassie whispered. ‘When did Archie start hitting the gym?’

  Suzy turned around. ‘Oi! Arch! I told y— Oh, Henry! It’s you.’

  ‘Who’d you think it was? The postman?’ His voice sounded faint at the back of the room. He was rummaging in the bookshelf. ‘Here, have you gone off with my Kings of Leon CD?’

  ‘What? No! Listen, clear out. I’m trying to have a conversation here.’

  ‘Huh? Who’re you talking to?’ Cassie heard his voice coming closer as his body came into crystal-clear definition.

  ‘I’m Skyping. Can’t you go hog the bathroom or something?’

  ‘Well, I can’t be rude, can I? . . . Who’s that?’ Henry leaned over the back of the sofa, his eyes twinkling. ‘Cass!’

  Cassie smiled shyly, feeling rather foolish to be ‘beamed’ to him through a computer screen.

  ‘Hi, Henry.’ She held up a feeble hand.

  ‘You were right,’ Suzy said, looking up at him. ‘Hot!’

  Henry smiled without taking his eyes off her. ‘Yeah,’ he nodded.

  ‘She’s got a new man,’ Suzy said slyly.

  ‘Suze! You’re supposed to be discreet!’ Cassie tutted, rolling her eyes and blushing again.

  ‘What?’ Henry frowned, looking shocked. ‘Well, who is he? Is he . . .’

  ‘Authorities checked?’ Cassie teased. ‘God, you’re all so overprotective! Don’t worry, I don’t intend to get pregnant or engaged.’

  ‘Has anyone else met this bloke yet? Does Kelly know him?’

  ‘Yes, she knows him. It’s all fine.’

  ‘But . . .’

  ‘Honestly, it’s fine,’ Cassie insisted, laughing. ‘And I’m very happy. Isn’t that the main thing?’

  Henry stared at her and she wondered whether he was even aware that he was talking to her in just his underpants. His skin had a deep golden tan.

  ‘Your bruise has gone, I see,’ she said, nodding towards his chest.

  ‘Oh . . . yes. Just the broken rib to heal now and getting over my phobia of running in open spaces and I’ll be fine.’

  Cassie chortled. ‘Are you going out somewhere?’

  ‘Just to the pub with some friends.’

  ‘Will Lacey be there?’ Suzy asked, happily munching again.

  ‘Yes. Along with others.’ He looked back at Cassie. ‘How about you? You seeing your new fella tonight then?’

  ‘He’s in Costa Rica till Wednesday,’ Suzy replied for her.

  ‘Costa Rica! What’s he do? Sell coffee?’ Henry quipped.

  ‘Already done that one,’ Suzy crowed, with a satisfied grin. ‘He’s a photographer.’ The tone of her voice suggested it was a controversial career choice. More so than Arctic exploring, for example.

  Cassie held up a stern finger. ‘Just don’t.’

  He sighed and stared at her, seemingly feeling no need to fill the silence with chatter.

  ‘Well,’ he said finally. ‘I’d better go. It’s eight o’ clock over here.’

  ‘I’m aware of that,’ Cassie grinned.

  ‘They’ll all be waiting for me.’

  ‘Sure.’

  ‘It’s good to see you.’

  ‘And you.’

  Cassie noticed Suzy’s head moving back and forth between them like a tennis ball.

  ‘See you soon.’

  ‘Yeah.’
>
  He straightened up and began to walk away.

  ‘Blimey! And they say women can talk!’ Suzy said, collapsing back into the cushions.

  ‘Oh! I forgot to ask—’ Henry said, bounding back into view.

  ‘Oh, for pity’s sake, man!’ Suzy cried. ‘What’s wrong with you?’

  ‘Did Kelly give you my list? I put it in the pocket of that jacket.’

  ‘Yes, thanks. I found it,’ Cassie laughed. ‘You’ve got a good sense of humour. A dinner party in Kelly’s kitchen, huh?’

  ‘You’ve got to do it.’

  ‘Yeah, yeah.’

  ‘Yeah, yeah yourself. And the Central Park run – you realize it means you’ve got to do it in one go, right? Not over the course of a week.’

  He laughed and strode off, leaving Cassie shaking her head at the screen.

  ‘Brothers,’ she muttered. ‘I’m glad I don’t have one!’

  Chapter Fifteen

  Cassie blinked sleepily, unperturbed by the clicking sound that was now her alarm clock. It had become something of a ritual in the past few weeks. Every morning, Luke took a picture of her in the few moments before and during waking, and even though she was always convinced she’d been snoring or was dribbling, his images proved otherwise – her cheeks were maiden-pink with sleep, her hair tousled, lips parted like she was blowing a kiss. It had been odd at first – intrusive, even. But he liked shooting her in black and white, printing them up in the softest tones of grey, without any artificial light, just the sun slanting in, bouncing down from the opposite tower blocks like a periscope. She’d grown used to it.

  ‘Rise and shine, Beauty,’ he whispered, planting a small kiss on the end of her nose.

  Cassie groaned and rolled on to her back, her arms thrown above her head. Luke knelt above her, still clicking away.

  ‘Stop, enough already,’ she mumbled, hiding her face with an arm.

  ‘Never. Never enough,’ he smiled, looking at her through the lens. She moved her arm away and looked back at him.

  ‘I’m supposed to be your lover, not your new project,’ she said, pronouncing ‘lover’ ironically. She couldn’t bring herself to say it in earnestness, and Kelly had fully briefed her that she wasn’t allowed to say ‘girlfriend’. You only became that when you stopped dating other people and became ‘exclusive’, like her and Brett, but that was a conversation they hadn’t had – and weren’t likely to, either, if Kelly had been right about his reputation.

  She had no intention of sleeping with anyone else whilst she was with Luke, although Kelly still insisted on dragging her out for token clubbing at Mischka every now and then, even though neither of their hearts was in it and they only stayed for one drink. But she had decided to assume that Luke was still ‘seeing’ other people anyway – that way she couldn’t be disappointed when she did eventually find him with another woman. After all, it was obvious that was how it would end between them. Until then, she was taking a what-she-didn’t-know-couldn’t-hurt-her’ approach, because this wasn’t about love. She wasn’t looking for another husband. She was just looking to feel better, and sex with Luke was making her feel better than she’d ever felt in her life. It made her wonder what she and Gil had been doing all those years, fumbling awkwardly, whispering politely in the dark.

  Out of all the girls, Anouk had been the only one who was delighted by the news. ‘I always say that the best way to get over one man is to get beneath another,’ she’d trilled in all seriousness. Suzy and Kelly had been a lot more reticent, especially when Kelly had discovered exactly which fashion photographer it was she was involved with – she’d thought any chance of seduction between them had evaporated when Cassie had stormed out of the attic room, red-faced and flustered, two hours after she’d entered it. But whatever had made Cassie leave him then, she clearly couldn’t walk away from him now. She just kept telling them all that she was involved with him with her eyes wide open, and reiterated to Kelly his assurances that the relationship with Alexa had finished a good month before they got together.

  ‘You’re both,’ said Luke, leaning forward and kissing her softly on the mouth. ‘I can’t survive you being one without the other. I can’t get enough of you.’

  Cassie bit his lower lip gently. ‘Well, you’re going to have to,’ she smiled, moving as though to get out of bed. ‘I’m meeting Bas for brunch.’

  ‘What? But I thought we had the day together. I’ve only just got back. I haven’t seen you for four days,’ he protested, grabbing her by the wrists.

  ‘And whose fault is that?’

  ‘Bonnie’s,’ he grumbled.

  ‘Yours, actually. You shouldn’t be so good.’

  He stared at her for a moment, watching the way her pupils dilated as he kept her pinned to the bed. ‘Actually, I’m very, very bad,’ he said, before diving under the duvet and proving his point.

  An hour later, her hair was still unbrushed and her cheeks still flushed, albeit not from sleep any more.

  ‘You’re late,’ Bas moaned as she skipped towards the wooden bench he was sitting on outside the café. ‘And even across the street I could see why.’ He stood up. ‘Look at you. You may as well have a sign on your head saying “Just got laid”.’

  ‘You make me sound like a free-range egg,’ Cassie said, squeezing his arm and planting a smacker on his cheek. ‘Besides, you can’t possibly tell that just by looking at me.’

  ‘You’ve got bed hair and stubble rash all over you.’ They opened the door and nabbed their usual favourite table – ‘and I think I’m probably on the money when I say all over you – am I not?’

  Cassie grinned back. She blushed less these days. Being with Luke the past few weeks had helped her shed many inhibitions, along with them her customary flushes.

  ‘I couldn’t possibly comment,’ she said, pretending to read the menu, even though they both knew she was holding it upside down – and knew it off by heart. ‘I ought to have the egg-white omelette,’ she mused.

  ‘Yes, you ought. I’ll play Mother in Miss Kelly’s absence.’

  ‘Mmmm. But you see, what I really fancy is a bacon sandwich,’ she said, peering over the top of the menu. ‘Will you rat on me?’

  Bas held her gaze for a moment before sighing dramatically and looking away. ‘I can get an alibi for where I am this morning.’

  Cassie chuckled and they placed their orders with the waitress.

  She looked around as she shrugged off her puffa – Kelly had long since stolen back the leather jacket and was safeguarding it by keeping it on at all times. This little café, Tea and Sympathy, had become ‘their place’ when they met up, just she and Bas. It had been set up by an Englishwoman who’d despaired of ever being able to get a ‘proper’ cup of tea in a city powered on coffee. Cassie loved it because it meant she got to indulge her PG Tips habit, and satisfy (on the sly) her cravings for Heinz baked beans, proper Cumberland bangers smothered in HP sauce and her beloved crispy bacon. She didn’t come here with anyone else – certainly not Kelly, not Luke – and Bas, after much suspicion and interrogation about the exact provenance of what he was eating, had slowly acquired a taste for black pudding, for which she loved him.

  ‘So you’re still happy, huh?’ Bas asked.

  ‘Still happy.’

  ‘Huh.’ He nodded. ‘It’s sickening.’ Poor Bas was in deep pining for a foreign Ph.D. chemistry student called Stefano who was engaged to a timid brunette – and Tom Ford, of course.

  Cassie covered his hand affectionately with hers. ‘I was thinking.’

  ‘Easy . . .’

  ‘We should throw a dinner party.’

  ‘Say what?’

  ‘We should,’ she laughed. ‘You and me.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘Because it would be a lovely and loving thing to do. It shows our friends how much we care. And I do have to keep doing things that reassure Kelly I’m actually her friend and not her nemesis.’

  ‘Things still not great?’

  S
he shrugged. ‘Limping along. Luke’s doing what he can to turn the tide, but it’s going to take time.’ She looked up and paused as the waitress set down a giant china teapot. ‘Anyway, isn’t Thanksgiving coming up? Isn’t that quite a big deal over here?’

  ‘Quite a big . . .’ Bas looked around the café. ‘Honey, you are lucky this place is filled with limeys. You’d be lynched for saying that anywhere else. It’s like burning the Stars and Stripes.’

  Cassie rolled her eyes at his dramatics. ‘So what do you think?’

  ‘I think it’s a dreadful idea. Why do you think we always eat out or order in? No New Yorker can cook.’

  ‘But I’m an excellent cook. It’s my favourite thing. I did it all the time back in Scotland.’

  ‘Well, you cook, then. What shall I do? Style their hair on the way in?’

  Cassie laughed. ‘You can choose the wines. That always used to be Gil’s job. He used to disappear down to the cellars and come back with some dusty bottle and cobwebs in his hair. I don’t have a clue.’

  Bas speared some black pudding on to his fork. No matter how much he ate, he always remained spike-thin. ‘And who’s on your guest list?’

  ‘Well, we’ll keep it small: you, me, Kelly, Brett – and Luke if he wants to come. He might be away.’

  ‘Ooh, look at you playing it so cool.’

  ‘Not playing it any way, Bas.’ She slurped her tea. ‘It’s just the way it is.’

  ‘Okay, lady,’ he said, sighing heavily. ‘You get your way. You can hold it at my place.’

  There was a tiny pause. ‘Actually,’ Cassie said, biting her lip, ‘we kind of have to hold it at Kelly’s.’

  ‘Kelly’s? What are you – insane? You know she keeps her knickers in the kitchen, right?’

  ‘It’s an order.’

  ‘An order?’

  ‘Well, maybe not an order. But it’s on the list. It has to be at Kelly’s.’

  Bas peered at her, instantly alert. ‘List? What list? I’ve not heard of any list.’

  ‘The one Henry wrote up for me.’