Covent Garden in the Snow

by Jules Wake

  ‘Donchoo laugh at me.’ I stabbed a belligerent finger his way except it missed and I ended up stabbing the upholstered bench seat behind him.

  He grabbed my hand and kissed the palm, his eyes dancing with amusement. ‘You’ve got a very short memory.’

  ‘You think you’re soooo smooth, donchooo.’ My head seemed really heavy. I remembered the earlier kiss. ‘Smooth and a good kisser. Excepshhhhunally good kisser. D’you kiss all the girls like that? You’re good. Really good.’ I narrowed my gaze at him. ‘Loads of practice probly.’

  He grinned. ‘I am smooth and you are completely plastered.’

  I tried to call on all my dignity. I might have been a slightly bit tipsy but I wasn’t so bad. Not really, although the room had taken on a slightly odd angle. I closed my eyes for a second. No! Whoa! That was much worse. I opened them again, which was hard work and focused on Marcus’s face. Except it kept swimming in and out of focus. How did he do that? Cool trick.

  ‘D’you do that …’ It was like being in a goldfish bowel … even bowl, except goldfish weren’t that good looking. He seriously was fit. ‘How d’you …’ I squinted but his face kept moving, his lips here and then gone. The more I stared at them, the more I wanted to kiss them. They were bloody lovely. Who knew that lips could look so lovely and be sooo magnetic? I could feel the pull towards them, or maybe that was just me. My head drooped and I had to haul it up again. Yup the lips still looked lush. The eyes, green still, yup they looked sort of …

  Oh, hell my eyes had closed again and my head felt very wobbly.

  ‘Tilly?’

  ‘Mmmm.’ My eyes didn’t want to play anymore. Shame ’cos he was a sight for … for eyes.

  ‘Tilly?’

  The room had started spinning and his face was withdrawing down a tunnel but boy he smelled yummy. I sniffed and discovered I was nose to neck. Warm gorgeous smelling skin.

  I kissed that lovely slightly bristled skin, just under that strong firm chin. Delicious. I put the tip of my tongue out to taste. Saltiness. Bristles. Inhaled deeply as I felt his arms go around me.

  ‘Tilly.’ I could feel him trying to hold me up and everything was like spaghetti. ‘Tilly, you can’t be this much of a lightweight. You’ve only had four glasses of wine. You can’t be this,’ he paused and I felt his hold tighten, ‘this drunk.’

  I blinked at him. ‘Drunk? Me? Nooo.’ I blinked again. ‘Maybe. As a skunk.’ With a smile, I sank into his arms. He was bloody lovely.

  ‘Come on, Tilly.’ Marcus’s voice had that dinner lady tone. Authoritative but kind.

  I fought my way into my coat, which suddenly felt as if I was trying to dress an octopus. How come I had so many arms? How come they didn’t work so well?

  He wrapped my silk scarf around my neck, one time too many instead of looping through itself to look nice and attempted to pull me to my feet.

  ‘Did I finishsh my drink?’ I asked, trying to go back to the table.

  ‘No, but you’ve had enough.’

  ‘Only two,’ I said in a very Joyce Grenfell voice, waving the appropriate number of fingers at him. ‘Only two. Only two. Only two.’ My pitch got higher and louder with each repetition. It sounded rather sing songy and nice. To add to it I did a little wiggly dance which ended badly because I barged into a table slopping pints everywhere.

  ‘Oops sorry.’ I gave the three chaps at the table a wide smile and a little wave.

  Marcus wrapped an arm around me and guided me to the door. I don’t know why he thought he needed to, I was just fine.

  As we stepped out of the pub slap bang onto the busy pavement, I paused, halted by the kaleidoscope of colours, smells and sounds, there was nowhere quite like Covent Garden on a crisp winter’s evening. Tourists bustled past. Black cabs rumbled by. Everywhere there was life and energy. It was all rather jolly. I smiled up into Marcus’s face. He had that indulgent, patient look which quite frankly I didn’t expect at all from a go getter, jet-setter like him. Was he a jet-setter? Maybe I got that bit wrong?

  ‘Do you go far in a jet?’ I asked. The words weren’t quite right but I couldn’t figure out why not.

  ‘What?’

  ‘Jest tetting? Do you?’ I swayed on the spot. I grabbed his arm for extra support. ‘Whoa who moved the pavement?’

  Hanging on to me with one arm, I watched as he hailed a cab. Despite there being lots of other people around us trying to do the same, the cab stopped for him.

  ‘You’re a dark lord, aren’t you?’

  ‘What?’ Even perplexed, he had a sexy look on his face. Lovely shaped eyebrows over those green eyes.

  ‘Or is that lord of dark arts? Summoning cabs out of the darkness? Am I in cahoots with the devil?’

  ‘Tilly. Shut up.’ Despite the words, they were said gently and punctuated with a small kiss on the top of my head as he pulled me against him and for a moment I relished the smell and feel of him, the steady rise and fall of his chest. Dark arts lord or not, I felt very safe and comfortable and then suddenly I felt myself slipping through his arms, the blackness of drunken oblivion calling.

  Chapter 31

  Someone had opened a mine shaft in my head, little hammers tap tapping away with reverberating frequency. Why had I still not learnt my lesson? Vodka, gin, even red wine, I can knock back with reckless abandon but I knew what white wine did to me.

  What a bloody mess. Everyone at work knew. And I’d let Felix stay. They would think I was an idiot.

  I turned to nestle into the mattress, back into sleep but no such luck, it felt hard and unyielding, not like my nice soft mattress at home. Alarm bells rang. Not my bed. Oh shit. Definitely not my bed. Not my bedroom. Not my home.

  A quick rattle through my memory files only produced a few vague facts. I’d left work with Marcus. I’d got slaughtered with Marcus. I left the pub with Marcus. I got in a cab with Marcus.

  The horrible sick feeling twisting in my stomach wasn’t anything to do with my hangover. Classy Tilly. Really classy. I peeled open my tired, gritty eyes, blinking, and raised myself on my elbows. The room swam in and out of focus for a moment.

  Purple hyacinth curtains, pine door opposite, the noisy rattle of the radiator and the gasping wheezy flush of the toilet right next door. I flopped back against the pillows. Thank God for that. Jeanie’s spare room.

  ‘Morning.’ Jeanie’s overly cheerful voice penetrated my doze. She stood beside the bed in a paisley dressing gown, her trademark red and pink hair almost standing on end as if she’d had a fright in the night and to my eternal gratitude, bearing a cup of tea in one hand and a fizzing glass of clear liquid in the other.

  ‘Alka Seltzer, young lady.’ She waited until I eased myself to a sitting position and shoved it into my hand. ‘Drink.’

  ‘Mean,’ I croaked. She knew I hated the stuff and had taken advantage of my semi-conscious state but I forgave her because she’d brought piping hot tea. I welcomed the scald down my throat which chased away the hideous chalky slimy taste.

  ‘Oh, lord,’ I groaned.

  ‘That’s one way of putting it.’ She perched on the bed. ‘Do you remember anything about last night?’

  ‘Sort of,’ I hedged. There were an awful lot of black holes.

  ‘That’s a no then.’ She knew me and my spotty memory. ‘You were completely smashed when Marcus brought you back last night.’

  I pushed tangled hair from my face. Oh dear God, yes. Marcus. It was all dribbling back in horrible Technicolor vividness.

  ‘He seemed to find it quite amusing. Although that was probably because you kept telling me how handsome he was and what lovely green eyes he had.’

  ‘Oh God, I didn’t.’

  ‘Oh God, you did.’

  I dropped my head into my hands, mortification burning streaks across my cheeks.

  ‘You didn’t want him to go. Begged him to stay.’ An amused smile hovered just short of a smirk around her lips.

  I winced, remembering looping my arms around his neck
and smiling stupidly at him.

  I groaned. ‘It’s not funny. Did I make a complete dick of myself?’

  ‘That’s about the size of it.’

  I took another scalding sip of tea. ‘What must he think of me?’

  ‘Actually, he was rather gentlemanly about it.’

  I shot her a suspicious glance. She was being far too nice. Jeanie didn’t do nice.

  ‘What did he say?’

  ‘Not much, just said you were very upset. He did mention that you were an exceptionally cheap date and that he’d never seen anyone get quite so drunk, quite so quickly.’ She was laughing at me now. ‘Clearly you didn’t bother enchanting him about your little problem with white wine before he offered to buy you a drink.’

  ‘Clearly,’ I said, not the least bit amused by her obvious delight in my chagrin. ‘I should have told you.’ I gave a mirthless laugh. ‘Everyone else knew. It’s Vince.’

  ‘Vince?’

  ‘Him and Felix.’

  ‘Vince!’ Her outraged squawk as she leapt off the bed made me jump. ‘Vince! The stupid, stupid, stupid …’

  I tried to hold back the tell-tale hitch in my breath.

  ‘Oh, my poor girl,’ she said before adding in a vicious tone. ‘The toad! Wait till I get my hands on him.’

  ‘You and me both,’ I sniffed with a half laugh.

  ‘How could he? The conniving lying little shit. Bloody men. They’re all the same.’

  I smiled at her disgust. ‘Even Carlsten.’

  ‘He’s still on his best behaviour. Prohibition. We’ll see. But what are we going to do about you?’

  ‘Probation,’ I corrected automatically. At least some good had come out of all this. I’d nailed the new computer system in time for my meeting with Alison.

  ‘I could sack the little git.’ Her face told another story. We both knew she didn’t mean it.

  ‘On what grounds? Is there a policy on nicking someone else’s boyfriend?’

  ‘I could find something.’

  ‘Thanks Jeanie, I was worried about telling you.’ Her hand closed over mine and we lapsed into silence.

  ‘Hmm. We need breakfast. Bacon butties. I can’t think on an empty stomach and you need food inside you, any paler and we’ll be calling Ghostbusters. Get dressed. I’ll see you in the kitchen.’

  Jeanie’s unconditional sympathy made me feel a lot better about going to work and facing Vince.

  I told her the full sorry tale as we sat at her kitchen table, chomping on thick doorsteps of bread and slices of bacon glistening with grease.

  Jeanie chewed ferociously on her butty as I told her who else knew.

  ‘What’s the plan? The N.O.’

  ‘N.O.?’

  ‘Nodus operandi … surely you know that with all those detective books you read.’

  ‘It’s Latin and its modus operandi.’

  ‘Are you sure?’ Jeanie seemed unconvinced. ‘If you say so.’

  I gave up, there was no point arguing with her, besides we had more important things to discuss. ‘I haven’t got a blinking clue. Half of me wants to go in all guns blazing, rip the shit out of him and tell him I’m never ever, ever going to talk to him again. The other half wants to pretend there’s nothing wrong.’ My face crumpled. ‘I just want everything to go back to how it was before.’ I burst into tears. ‘V-vince and F-felix.’ I lay my head on the table.

  ‘Aw, hon.’ She stroked my arm. ‘I don’t know what to say.’

  ‘I feel as if my whole world’s been ripped apart. Everyone knew but me … and you. They all must have thought I was such a berk. Why didn’t anyone tell me?’

  There was relative calm in the studio with only a couple of other people working quietly. And there at the other side of the room was Vince. He looked up as I walked in.

  The room went very still and suddenly filled with quiet confident fury, I stalked over to him.

  Vince froze, as wary as a gazelle scenting danger and ready to spring away at any second, as if he knew something very serious was afoot.

  ‘Tilly …’ he held his hands out.

  I stepped backwards, feeling sick but holding my head high.

  Swallowing hard, his Adam’s apple danced, as if he were trying to summon up the words. I could almost see him trying to work out his strategy. Choose the right words. To do what? Apologise? Explain?

  A beseeching, pain-filled expression crossed his face.

  ‘Tilly,’ he appealed, his hands outstretched.

  ‘Don’t you dare,’ I spat. ‘Don’t you make out you’re the victim here.’

  I had to get out of here. I couldn’t bear it but as I turned and spotted my work area, and the half-finished wig, resolve appeared from nowhere. No walking out. No dramatic huffs. I had a job to do. A professional job. Personal life had to stay outside. I wouldn’t lose what was important to me.

  I forced myself to turn back to him and say in a quiet, calm voice, ‘Vince. I’m very upset.’ I lifted my chin, pulling on every last shred of dignity. ‘I don’t wish to discuss this at work.’

  He pouted. ‘Well everyone’s sided with you. Philippe and Leonie are refusing to speak to me.’

  ‘And you wonder why?’ I asked quietly.

  ‘I bet you’ve got Jeanie on your side, too.’

  I shook my head. ‘Grow up Vince. There are no sides. You should look to your own conscience. Friends don’t do … this to each other.’

  Turning my back on him, I returned to my work area and picked up the Juliet wig. I wouldn’t put it down or do anything else until I’d finished making the last ringlet. And I would not look up at Vince again, or at least until I’d done three.

  The second ringlet in, I caught him in my peripheral vision tiptoeing into Jeanie’s office. He wasn’t tip-toeing but he might as well have been, from the furtive hunch of his shoulders and the slow circumnavigation of the room to get there. Through the glass windows I could see him talking with great agitation to her. Hands flying faster than a sign language interpreter.

  A small part of me, the not very nice bit at all, was pleased to see that her face exhibited nothing but disgust. I couldn’t tell what she said but from the cowed expression on his face and the speed at which he scurried back to his desk, he’d got short shrift.

  I settled into a pattern and had completed the back of the wig when Jeanie swept out of the office, irritation wrinkling her forehead. The minute she’d gone, Vince scuttled out, clutching his mobile phone. No prizes for guessing who he was going to phone.

  ‘I brought you this.’ Like a benign genie, Marcus appeared and handed me a cup of coffee. I almost melted with gratitude as I inhaled the glorious smell.

  ‘Oh, thank you,’ I took it from him and wrapped both hands around the cup, savouring the heat. ‘I think I love y–.’ As soon as the words spilled out I wanted to pull them back, especially as I was looking him full in the face at the time.

  His face softened, laughter lurking in his smile and then something else, a steadiness in his gaze, which had me stuttering for breath.

  ‘You’re not so bad yourself.’ He sat down on the bench. ‘How are you feeling this morning?’

  ‘Not great.’ I grimaced at him, luckily still feeling too rough to be too embarrassed about what I’d just said.

  ‘How’s the head?’ His mouth quirked at one side but he managed to keep his expression grave. ‘You went for it last night.’

  ‘It’s OK.’ I winced. ‘Sorry I should have warned you about the wine thing.’

  ‘Yeah, what is that all about? I’ve heard of cheap dates but that was bargain basement.’

  ‘It only happens with white wine,’ I said with indignation. Yet another thing I’d never live down. He must have thought I was a complete nut job. ‘My mum’s the same. I normally never touch it.’

  ‘Except when you want to get completely bladdered.’

  ‘Mmm, not my greatest idea.’

  Marcus smiled. ‘I don’t know, it had its compensations.’
/>
  I put my hands over my face. ‘I don’t remember a lot of it …’ And I certainly wasn’t going to tell him the bits I did.

  ‘It’s alright. I can fill you in.’ The half-amused smile on his face held a hint of challenge. ‘Apparently, you think I’m gorgeous and I’ve got two really lovely eyes but you don’t fancy me. So, that’s OK then. Although you do think I’m an exceptionally good kisser.’

  I choked on my coffee. Had I used the word ‘fancy’? How old was I?

  ‘Anyway, I’m glad we’ve cleared all that up, I wondered if you did fancy going to the match on Saturday. Arsenal, Liverpool. Three o’clock kick off at The Emirates. I’ve got two tickets.’

  I couldn’t decide whether to scowl at him or take it in good spirits. ‘You’re kidding.’

  ‘Just a thought.’

  ‘God I’d love to … do you know I’ve … you do, I told you before. Wow. That would be so fantastic.’ Those tickets had to be like gold dust.

  ‘Great. Maybe dinner afterwards.’

  ‘Y-yes that would be … that would be. Very good.’ Tickets to see Arsenal and dinner. A date with Marcus. I wanted to bounce in my seat but I managed to contain myself as we made the arrangements to meet before he disappeared out of the door.

  Woo hoo. Then I bounced up and down in my chair, with a quick spin thrown in for good measure. I let out a squeal, the make-up room was empty. Maybe not. My ears just registered the tell-tale squeak of the door. A shadow appeared on my desk, indicating someone was behind me.

  ‘You’re back aren’t you?’ I said.

  ‘’Fraid so. I just had one more thing to say.’

  I kept my back to him, trying to be nonchalant.

  ‘Just one more thing.’ He leant down and brushed my neck with his lips, a whisper of a kiss and then said very softly. ‘Just because you don’t fancy me, doesn’t mean I don’t fancy you.’

  By the time I’d summoned my wits to turn around, he’d gone, leaving my pulse doing the light fandango.

  Chapter 32

  ‘Football!’ Jeanie shook her head with obvious disapproval and topped up my red wine. As she stretched out on her sofa, tipping her face towards the fire crackling in the fireplace, she added, ‘I can’t imagine anything worse.’