by Rosie Dean
She picked it up and studied the label. ‘Lovely. Thanks, Millie.’ She gave me a brief hug before stashing the bottle in a cupboard.
I could see through the window that Mum was already installed on a sun-lounger in the shade of an old pear tree. Only her legs and feet were in the sunshine and she’d kicked off her sandals to get the benefit. Her legs tan easily and the sunshine’s good for her joints. Mungo was lying in a pool of sunlight on the grass beside her.
‘Auntie Millie, you’re going to have tea in the playhouse with us.’
‘Am I?’ I asked, squatting down and gathering the twins to me. Their delicate little bodies were squirming and jittery with excitement.
‘No she’s not,’ Trina corrected. ‘We’re all eating round the table.’
The twins moaned in unison.
‘Never mind, I’ll come in later and have a game of Snakes and Ladders with you, how’s that?’
‘Yeah!’ they squealed, bouncing on the spot.
Lucy took charge. ‘We’ll go and get it.’ Hand in hand, they scampered off, leaving Trina shaking her head in exasperation.
I scanned the kitchen for something to drink. Despite Trina having known me for twenty-nine years, she still couldn’t quite tune into my needs and was opening the fridge to display a selection of fresh juices and smoothies for me to choose from.
‘What – no Pimm’s?’ I asked.
‘Oh, yes. Elliot has it outside. I thought you were driving?’ she said, with a puckered brow. She might not know me very well, but I could read her like a book.
‘Don’t worry, I’m not staying the night. I’ll have a pint of Pimm’s before the barbecue and then move on to the soft stuff.’
‘A pint?’
‘Alright then, half.’
As I headed for the garden she caught my arm. ‘Mum says you’ve got a man. Quick! Tell me about him.’
It seemed she knew me well enough to understand I wouldn’t be giving much away to our mother. On the other hand, I had no intention of spilling the full bag of beans to her, either. She was too pally with Mum. ‘It’s nothing serious – I only met him a couple of weeks ago.’
‘Millie, you never usually tell Mum anything about men so he must mean something.’
‘I never tell her anything ’cos there’s nothing to tell. This is the first decent guy in ages.’
‘So what’s he like?’ she whispered.
‘Tall, dark, very handsome and loaded.’
She laughed. ‘No, really. Come on, tell me.’
Her eyes darted over my face. She wanted something more real. ‘Okay, he’s average build, sandy hair – thinning on top – and with a bit of a squint, but that kind of adds to his charm.’
She grinned and stroked my arm. ‘But I bet he’s a really nice guy, isn’t he?’
I nodded. ‘And hung like a baboon.’
‘Millie!’
I smiled, before stepping outside.
The house was Victorian with a long narrow garden, just a few minutes walk from the harbour in one direction and the town in the other. Elliot was tipping charcoal into the barbecue and whistling – probably to avoid conversation with Mum. ‘Hello!’ I called. His father, William, a retired naval commander, stood ram-rod straight as he watched his son’s endeavours with interest. They all turned to look at me, Elliot smiling with relief, William saluting and Mum waving like she was hailing a cab.
I wandered over to the table, trying not to focus too obviously on the jug of Pimm’s – not that I’m an alcoholic but I do need to be shored up to face a Carmichael family gathering. The emphasis tends to be on children, with frequent displays of grandmotherly pride and the occasional bout of maternal disappointment – as much from my mother over me as from Trina over her two. Then, of course, there’s the habitual quest to see me settled down. For only then will Mum’s work be done and she can relax and enjoy her grandchildren.
Elliot hugged me. It felt like he was putting on weight. I guess being made partner in one of the biggest accountancy firms in Hampshire can do that to you. ‘Lovely to see you, Millie. You really should come down more often. Trina and the girls would love it.’ He was being kind. Trina was forever ticking me off for winding up the twins.
‘I know,’ I said guiltily. ‘But life’s so hectic at present. Especially with Grease coming up.’
‘Of course. Trina’s bought the tickets already. Looking forward to it.’ He hated amateur dramatics.
William held both my shoulders and placed a whiskery kiss on my cheek. ‘Let me get you a drink, eh?’ He reached for the jug and one of the larger tumblers, God bless him. Mum had swivelled on the lounger in my honour but failed to get off it. As I took my first swig, Trina announced the arrival of Tony and his family. For this, Mum shoved her feet back into her sandals, heaved herself off the lounger and hurried towards the house, Mungo at her heels. ‘I hope my baby Moses is awake; I’m longing to give him a cuddle.’
Moses was awake – awake and bawling his head off. At six months he had a powerful pair of lungs, but despite the racket he was making, we still managed to ‘cooh’ and ‘aah’ over him like the adoring family we were.
Emma was the image of a frazzled young mum. She wore a flimsy, cotton dress with a soft, lacy cardigan in apple green and pink. After struggling to regain her figure, I guessed she’d treated herself to this confection for the occasion. And now she was trying to maintain her dignity while Moses rocked the neighbourhood with his screams. Tony was making soothing noises – as much for Emma as for the baby.
My hands tingled to hold him. My ovaries trembled and my heart fluttered. For the first time in my life, I actually felt within stroking distance of having my own howling bundle. I could picture it now: me and Lex with baby number one; Vonnie and Mum vying to cuddle it; photos around the font; Josh holding our baby to bless its head. The image stalled. No. By the time my baby was born, Josh would have left Marshalhampton.
Tony stood next to Elliot, a can of alcohol-free lager in his hand. ‘Bet you’re glad you’ve got past this stage, eh, mate?’
Elliot tilted his head and nodded vaguely. Trina busied herself with cutlery, and I knew. I just bloody knew. They were going to have another, but it was too early to make an announcement. I watched them both; an invisible chord of family unity linking them – a glance they didn’t know I’d seen. Months ago I would have thought, Here we go again, won’t that make Grandma proud? Now, I felt wonder and envy; wonder at the miracle of nature, and envy for their unity. I took a good glug of Pimm’s and fantasized some more about the beautiful babies I’d have with Lex and the wonderful life we’d lead…in Marshalhampton and France.
Mum managed to hold back on quizzing me over Lex until we were seated round the table and tucking in to ice-cream and fruit salad.
‘Now then, Millie. How did your hot date go?’ The term, on my mother’s lips, made my mouth twitch, while Trina’s eyes flashed from Mum to me and back again.
Tony grinned. ‘Blimey, you thawing out at last, Mill?’
‘What’s that supposed to mean?’ I snapped.
‘Ignore him,’ Emma said. ‘Tell us about your date.’
‘No,’ I persisted, glaring at Tony. ‘What are you saying?’
‘Don’t get so uptight, sis. I’m glad. You should enjoy yourself more.’
Mum chipped in. ‘His name’s Alexander and he sells wine.’ Elliot and Tony made noises of appreciation.
‘Wine, you say?’ William echoed. ‘There’s money to be made in that, I believe.’
Mum nodded. ‘Go on, Millie. Tell us how your party in London went.’ She was smiling at me, willing me to divulge all.
‘Fantastic, actually,’ I began, before describing in exaggerated detail the events of the previous night. Tempting though it was to wind my mother up with an explicit account of our intimate grapple against the car, I made Lex sound like a true gent. And right on cue, the phone trilled in my bag. I knew it was Lex, without looking…chiefly because I’d assigned the son
g Love Machine to his number. ‘Excuse me,’ I purred, lifting the phone from my bag. ‘Hi there,’ I said as I withdrew to the sun-lounger.
‘How’re you surviving the family gathering?’ he asked.
‘Much better now you’ve phoned.’
‘That’s nice to hear. Did you enjoy last night?’
‘Which part?’
He let out a low chuckle. ‘Well, you tell me the part you enjoyed best and I’ll see if it ties in with mine.’
I nestled down on the lounger with my back to the family. ‘Let me think…the meal was lovely…’
‘It was.’
‘…and your friends were charming…’
‘They can be.’
‘But probably the most thrilling bit…’
‘Hmmm?’
I giggled. ‘…was busting the speed limit down the M3.’
There was an exaggerated sigh. ‘Oh, Millie. And I thought it was my roguish charm that had you melting so temptingly in my arms.’
My stomach felt like I’d been driven over a humped-back bridge. I swallowed. My voice came out all croaky. ‘No. I’m afraid it was your eight cylinders and twin over-head cams that did it for me.’
‘Really? How about the twenty-inch alloy wheels?’
‘Twenty inches. That’s impressive.’
There was a rustle as the twins snuck up behind me. I turned round and shooed them away with my hand. They squealed and ran back to the table.
‘I do hope you’re not corrupting any minors over there,’ he said.
‘That’s my nieces – they want to play snakes and ladders with me.’
‘I wouldn’t mind playing with you.’
My hormones peaked again. ‘Were you serious about Classics at Clavering?’
‘Absolutely. It’ll be fun.’
There was a roar of laughter from the table behind me and Mungo, woken by the commotion, began yapping, which kick-started Moses on a new wave of yelling.
‘Listen, this is a bad time but it was lovely of you to call. Believe me, it’s been the highlight of my day.’
‘I’m very glad to hear it.’
I was still grinning as I sat back at the table. Glancing up, my entire family was watching me, eyebrows raised expectantly.
‘No wonder you’ve got a smile on your face.’ Tony raised his glass to me.
‘Shh! Not in front of the girls.’ Mum chided.
‘What?’ I wanted to know. ‘Lucy, Amy – go and set up the snakes and ladders.’
‘We have done.’
‘Well…here…’ I pulled a box of Jelly Babies out of my handbag. ‘Go and find three little bowls and share these out so we can eat them while we’re playing.’
‘Not all of them!’ Trina protested as the twins scuttled off.
‘Go on then, Tony. Your point is?’
‘Well, your man sounds like one helluva chap…’
‘Your brother’s being vulgar.’ Mum flapped a hand at him. ‘Tony, you know she wasn’t talking about…that.’
Tony and Elliot laughed and began moving their hands as if measuring a large fish.
I rolled my eyes. ‘Alloy wheels, Tony. Alloy wheels.’
Chapter 15
Lex’s secretary, Bronwen, called me to arrange a meeting with him. The very prospect left my senses in a scramble of anticipation after our aborted clinch on Saturday.
‘Thursday,’ I sighed to Sacha on Monday night as I walked into the flat. ‘I have to wait until Thursday before I see Lex again.’
‘Well that’s good, isn’t it? Mid-week shenanigans. Excellent.’
I explained about the business meeting.
‘Then call him now. Invite him out for a drink,’ she said, turning down the volume on the telly to show she was seriously engaged in my task of snaring Mr Right. ‘Take the initiative.’
‘I can’t do that, it’s way too pushy,’ I said, flopping next to her on the sofa. ‘Although…’
‘Go on.’
‘Well, I think he must be pretty charged up for further developments, judging by yesterday’s chat on the phone.’
‘So what are you waiting for?’
I shook my head and stood up. ‘Too pushy. I can wait till Thursday. Just.’
She rolled her eyes and turned the volume back up.
Maybe Lex would phone me and suggest a pre-meeting rendez-vous. He could hardly expect his secretary to manage his social calendar, could he? I poured myself a glass of Pinot Grigio, confident things were moving in absolutely the right direction.
I heard nothing, just an email from Bronwen giving me a map to their offices in Knightsbridge. Lex was clearly a very professional man and undoubtedly too busy for mid-week shenanigans, which all bode well for the kind of man I was looking for.
This is good, I told myself. I totally need to take this at a steady pace.
On Thursday, I scoured my wardrobe for the most suitable outfit. It was another hot day, so I chose a royal blue dress with matching peep-toe shoes. I rolled my hair into a blue butterfly clasp and slipped my favourite tear-drop silver earrings into place. Even though I’d done business meetings like this before, I was way too nervous to eat breakfast and only managed an apple for lunch.
The offices of Marshal & Crowe Vintners were on one floor of a beautiful Edwardian building. Bronwen, I’m pleased to report, was twice my age and very thick around the hips. She’d retained her Welsh accent but polished it slightly when answering the phone. She wore a rather elaborate suit in heavy plum, which wasn’t too flattering against her pale skin and overly-blonded hair. Her knuckles were adorned with a number of massive rings, which along with the white-tipped acrylic nails must have made typing a nightmare. I imagined it would sound like the Charge of the Light Brigade, once she got up to speed. She must have had the fittest fingers in Knigtsbridge.
‘Let me show you down y’ere to the boardroom,’ she said, making a dramatic sweeping gesture with her hand. I followed in the wake of her perfume, which was heavily scented with amber.
I scanned left and right for any sign of Lex, my heart clanging with anticipation and heat flooding my system. Any moment now he could appear. Would he be pleased to see me? Would I look as good as he remembered or would he be disappointed?
The boardroom had a mahogany table with eight chairs around it and a white-board on the wall. There were arty photographs of the sun setting over vineyards, with shafts of light lancing through the foliage. Through the window was a dismal view over another building. It wasn’t the plushest of boardrooms I’d ever been in but then, Marshal & Crowe weren’t in the realms of the major corporates.
I wondered if Bronwen cold see my hands trembling as I took out my laptop. Just as she offered me a glass of water, Lex strode in, looking powerful and sexy in a lilac and white striped shirt and grey trousers.
‘Hello,’ I beamed, pushing out my hand out to shake his – after all, this was a business meeting.
He looked amused, cocking an eyebrow as he said, ‘Hello.’ He took my hand and drew me in to kiss me on both cheeks, which was a nice touch and booted my hormones into circulation. He turned my hand over and looked down into my palm, where the scar was healing nicely. ‘How’s it feeling?’
‘Absolutely fine. I’d almost forgotten it,’
‘Good.’ He continued to hold my hand and smiled into my eyes. If I were a mind-reader I’d say he was definitely planning some kind of merger and it wasn’t a corporate one.
Behind him, another guy entered the room. He was older, with grey hair and a broad face. Lex dropped my hand and introduced me to his business partner, Charles Crowe, who had a familiar face. It turned out, he was also Bronwen’s husband. Despite his smart appearance, he had an accent more West Ham than West Kensington. Every time he spoke, I tried to work out which actor he reminded me of…Ray Winstone, maybe? He busied himself setting out some small bottles on the table while we sat down. Each had different coloured caps and labels. Lex picked one up and offered it to me. ‘Here you are, Millie,
this is Spritzah!’
I took it. ‘So, tell me about Spritzah! – target market, price point and so on.’ I asked, poised over my laptop to take notes.
Charles picked up another bottle and sat beside me. ‘Rightio, Millie, what you’ve got in these blue and green ones, is a blend of white wine with lemonade or soda, see – green’s lemonade, blue’s soda. The red and orange ones are red wine with lemonade,’ he held up a red one, ‘or soda,’ he held up an orange one. I felt like I was back at primary school.
I nodded, tapping notes into my laptop. ‘And the market?’
Lex answered. ‘We’re looking at nightclubs, pubs, railway buffets, licensed cafes and, of course, supermarkets. We’re looking at people who want a mixed drink but not a spirit. It’s good for the bars because they don’t have to dispense wine from a bottle and then add mixer and, in a busy club, time saved serving one customer means they can move quickly on to another.’
‘And have you defined your marketing strategy or is that what we’re here to discuss?’
‘We have a few ideas,’ Lex said. ‘But we need some professional help.’ He smiled. To anyone else, it would have been an innocent, professional smile but behind those wicked green eyes I could practically see his memory of my cocktail dress, hoisted over my hips. I nodded and took a sip of water.
‘Good. Then, if it’s okay with you, I’d like to run through some questions?’
‘Fire away.’
We were at it for over an hour; questions going back and forth, ideas aired and rejected. And I know Lex was impressed. Why wouldn’t he be? I’m bloody good at my job.
Finally, he wound the meeting up and offered to see me out. The minute we were free of the office, his hand slid round my waist. There was only one floor to walk down but he stopped by the lift. ‘You’re pretty sexy when you’re in work mode, Ms Carmichael,’ he said, trailing a finger over my arm. ‘I like a woman who takes control.’
‘Just wait till you see me deliver my proposal,’ I said, stepping inches closer.
He lowered his head to kiss me, and the lift doors opened. ‘Oh good,’ he said. ‘An empty lift.’