by Sue Welfare
Suzie forced a laugh, aware that her heart was beating like a drum. ‘Good, I’m glad you approve. So?’ she said. ‘Do you want me to ask him or not?’
‘No, I think I can probably manage. I’ll ask Liz if she’s not too busy.’
This time Suzie really did laugh. ‘Well, good luck with that,’ she said as she made her way around to the marquee.
As Suzie rounded the corner of the house, the noise from the tent hit her like a tidal wave. It was even louder as she stepped in through the open flap to be greeted by the voices and faces of friends and family, neighbours and people from the village all standing around drinking champagne, nibbling on canapés and deep in conversation. There was a real buzz of anticipation in the air. It was going to be tricky to hide all this lot for very long . . .
Matt was standing just inside the doorway with Megan, welcoming the new arrivals while waiters handed out the drinks.
‘Well, thank God for that, the cavalry have finally arrived,’ said Matt with a grin as their eyes met. ‘And not before time, eh, Megan? I was beginning to think the whole family had abandoned me – except for Megan here obviously. She’s been an absolute star.’
Megan beamed under Matt’s approval.
‘And you look gorgeous, Suzie, doesn’t she, Megan? That’s the most amazing outfit – new, is it?’
Suzie blushed as Matt looked her up and down, making Megan giggle.
‘I’m so sorry about leaving you on your own,’ said Suzie, trying to ignore the mischievous look in his eyes. ‘I was hoping Liz would be helping out with the meeting and greeting. She should be here any minute now . . .’ She glanced across the crowded tent. ‘People started showing up earlier than we thought . . . which is good – I’m not complaining. I mean, it’ll be nice for Mum and Dad, bigger surprise.’ Then Suzie smiled at Megan. ‘Well done you, do you think you could just pop round and give your dad a hand?’
Megan looked crestfallen. ‘But I like it in here,’ she complained.
‘I know you do, sweetie, but we need someone to spot Grandma and Granddad, and you can come straight back just as soon as they get here. All right?’
Matt nodded. ‘Actually, Meg, letting us know when they’re about to arrive is probably the most important job of the evening.’
‘Go on – off you go,’ said Suzie, shooing her away.
‘Do I have to?’ Megan whined, dragging her feet. ‘Yes, your dad’s expecting you – and hurry,’ said Suzie. ‘You don’t want to miss them. He’s in the house.’
‘So where did you say your sister Liz has got to?’ asked Matt, smiling at another new arrival as Megan scurried across the lawn.
Suzie rolled her eyes. ‘Don’t ask. Sulking probably. Actually I need to make an announcement.’
‘Sure thing,’ he said and, stepping forward, he clapped his hands. ‘Ladies and gentlemen, if we could have a little hush, please . . .’ Matt called in his deep dark brown voice. ‘Suzie would like to make an announcement.’
Nothing like stating the obvious, she thought, aware that all eyes were now on her.
‘Good evening. I just wanted to say that it’s great to see everyone . . . As you know, this is a very special evening for my mum and dad and I want to thank you all for being here to share it and also, and more importantly, for managing to keep the cat firmly in the bag. As far as we know, Mum and Dad have absolutely no idea what’s going on. My mum’s sister, Fleur, who probably most of you know, has kept them out of the way all day so that we could get everything ready. And apparently they’re on their way back here now. We’ve been told that they should be arriving very soon, so could I ask that you find your seats, please? We’ll try and give you as much warning as we can when Mum and Dad get closer so that we can all be quiet. Meanwhile, there is plenty of champagne and lots of gorgeous nibbles courtesy of Matt here. So until they arrive – eat drink and be merry. Thank you.’
There was a murmur of approval and then people returned to their conversations.
Matt smiled. ‘Well done you, you’re a natural, you know that, don’t you?’ he said and, catching hold of her elbow, he kissed her on the cheek. Suzie felt herself light up like a Christmas tree, colour flooding her cheeks. ‘Please . . .’ she whispered, pushing him away. ‘Do you mind? I’ve already told you to stop that. What if anyone sees you? What will people think?’ She rubbed her cheek just in case there was some great big indelible neon sign plastered on it that announced she had been kissed.
‘What?’ he said, aping offence. ‘What’s the matter? Can’t a friend give another friend a little kiss?’
‘No,’ said Suzie firmly. ‘No, he can’t.’
‘Have you said anything to Sam yet?’ Matt said, in an undertone. ‘You haven’t, have you, I can tell by that look on your face.’
‘I’ve hardly had the time, have I?’ said Suzie. ‘And now isn’t exactly the ideal moment, is it?’
‘If you don’t tell him, then I’m going to,’ said Matt.
Suzie stared at him. ‘You wouldn’t.’
Matt raised his eyebrows. ‘Just try me,’ he said, smiling as he handed her a glass of champagne.
*
Upstairs in the guest room, Liz was struggling to regain her calm, carefully rubbing a dab of serum into her hair to make sure there would be no last-minute outbreaks of frizz. Slipping off her robe, she took a long hard look at her body in the mirror. She was wearing sheer jade-green silk underwear that perfectly matched her robe over a light spray tan (it was just so passé to be orange), she had smooth bare legs, pink painted fingernails and matching toenails. The whole creation was a real work of art.
Pulling her glasses out from under a towel and holding them up like a pince-nez, she looked again with a more critical and focused eye. The effect was uncannily like before and after airbrushing. There were a few uneven patches of skin tone on her legs and a broken vein or two on her thighs, and despite all the work with her personal trainer Liz was still undeniably pear-shaped. In the unflattering light from the bedroom windows, and with the benefit of 20/20 vision, she could pick out the beginnings of cellulite on her thighs. She made a mental note that it would most definitely be lamplight when she and Grant got back to the hotel. Lamplight and that little wisp of a négligée that she had picked up in Paris when she had been guest presenter on the Travel Programme. It was such a shame that you couldn’t be airbrushed while you were on the move.
Tucking away her glasses, she pulled the jade-green dress off the hanger and wriggled into it oh so carefully, so as not to mess up her hair or make-up. The stylist at Starmaker was right, the colour really did wonders for her complexion and eyes, and it went beautifully with her underwear. Pouting, she admired herself in the mirror, letting the straps slip seductively off her shoulders.
She imagined Grant undressing her later and smiled to herself; it would be just like unwrapping a beautiful parcel, one which he really ought to be very, very grateful to be getting his hands on. Lizzie Bingham didn’t come with any kind of dodgy reputation or rumours of a tacky past. She had carefully cultivated the whole gorgeous-girl-next-door image, and was very scrupulous about who she associated with in public. So, despite all the media interest in the show, no one had ever caught her falling out of a nightclub half cut and half naked in the arms of a footballer or someone else’s husband. Not for her the charms of some hairy-arsed Neanderthal, oh no. Lizzie Bingham wanted, no . . . demanded, something all together more stylish and upmarket.
The idea of seeing Grant gave her a little frisson of expectation. After all, before all the unwrapping, he was just bound to bring her a present. Presents were Grant’s thing – well, actually they were her thing, but Liz had explained to him how those little tokens of affection always made her feel special. Grant had laughed and suggested that they should really make her feel grateful (and that he knew just the way she could show him how grateful she was, which Liz thought was a little sordid, but anyway). Earrings, diamonds, perfume, silk stockings, weekends in spa hotels
and far-flung luxury villas – she’d given him a list of all her favourites and made it clear that anything else he might come up with was acceptable – just as long as it wasn’t roses.
Deep in thought, the sound of knocking followed by a man’s voice made her jump; for an instant she thought it might be Grant and wondered if there was time to draw the curtains.
‘Liz? Lizzie, are you in there? It’s me, Sam.’
Liz took a second or two to regain her composure and push her glasses firmly back under a towel before painting on a wolfish smile and opening the bedroom door. There was still the little matter of getting even with Suzie.
‘Well, hi there – come in,’ she said, all smiles and smouldering eyes. ‘Actually I’m so glad you’re here. Can you help me?’
Sam looked confused. ‘Sure, what’s the problem?’
‘Could you do me up? I’m really struggling here,’ she lied. Before he could reply Liz turned around, presenting him with her bare back. ‘Can you just do the zip for me?’
Sam hesitated. ‘Sorry, Liz, I’m not really qualified—’ he began, obviously uncomfortable.
‘What?’ Liz laughed. ‘Oh come on, Sam, don’t tell me you don’t know how to do up a dress?’ she said, tugging at the straps of her dress in a contrived effort to keep it from slipping off. ‘Please, Sam.’ Her voice dropped to a seductive purr. ‘I don’t bite. I just can’t reach the zip.’
‘Actually I’m not sure I’ve got time. I’m going to hang up the banner . . .’ Sam said, holding a roll of fabric out in front of him like a shield. ‘Suzie just wanted me to let you know that your mum and dad are on their way and should be here any time.’
‘Okay, fair enough,’ she said. ‘Well, in that case you’d better get a move on, hadn’t you? Put the banner down and help me with the zip, will you? I can hardly go downstairs with my dress undone now, can I?’
There was a split second when Liz really wasn’t sure what Sam was going to do. She felt his eyes on her, and then felt him moving closer and smiled triumphantly. He wasn’t a man who was often wrong-footed but she could sense just how uncomfortable he felt and her first thought was ‘good’. Liz wanted to teach Suzie a lesson for leaving her on her own when she had to get ready, and somehow it felt like this was the perfect way.
Sam had big capable hands and long fingers but he fumbled nervously as he caught hold of the tiny catch, mumbling an apology as he carefully pulled the zipper closed. The dress was made of silk as fine as cobweb over a heavier inner sheath, so he had to work the zip quite slowly, so as not to snag the fabric, which Liz found rather sweet considering how he had been bullied into doing it.
‘There we are,’ he said, stepping away. The relief in his voice was audible.
‘That’s great. Can you just do up the hook at the top please?’ she purred.
‘No, I can’t, I can’t see it,’ he snapped gruffly. Liz could feel the warmth of his breath on her bare shoulder and, sensing Sam’s increasing unease, her smile broadened. As his fingertips accidentally brushed her skin, she giggled and Sam leapt away from her like a scalded cat.
‘Whoa there, cowboy. It’s all right,’ she said. ‘It just tickled a bit, that’s all – they can’t hang you for it.’ But he had already snatched up the banner and was backing out of the door as if she was a crazed gunman. The sense of power gave her a nice little buzz.
‘You’ll have to ask Suzie to do up the hook when you get downstairs,’ he was saying. ‘I’m going to sort this banner out. Suzie just wanted me to let you know that we haven’t got long before your mum and dad arrive.’
‘So you said,’ said Liz, turning to look up at him from under long, perfectly mascaraed lashes. ‘Thanks for that. You know you’ve got a lovely touch.’ Was it her imagination or was Sam blushing? ‘See you later,’ she said, but he was already gone.
Liz leant close to the mirror to paint on a little more lipgloss and add a spray of perfume. As she looked into the eyes of her reflection she grinned and licked her lips; that had felt like a victory.
Poor Sam, he had looked absolutely terrified. She hadn’t been able to help herself, there was a bit of her that wanted to show him exactly what he was missing. After all, she was a real woman, a woman who liked to take care of herself. A glamorous woman who knew exactly how to treat her man. She pressed her lips together and then ran her tongue over her teeth.
And yes, okay, so Sam was her sister’s husband and quite obviously off-limits but he was still gorgeous and quite sexy in a lived-in, slightly crinkled way. If she was honest with herself, she had always thought that he was wasted on Suzie. Not that she would ever say anything or do anything about it, but it was just nice to flex a bit of muscle from time to time, show the world exactly who was boss.
Sam had been with Suzie for donkey’s years, since Suzie had been a gangly teenager and Sam was all elbows and knees and long curly blond hair, and there had always been a teensy-weensy bit of Liz that was jealous of Suzie. And yes, she had fancied Sam, even though she had never done anything about it. Even when he was teasing her about her braces and her love life and her clothes, she had always thought he was cute. And of course he noticed her, which had always made Liz think that maybe he might be just a little bit interested too.
*
‘I think there must be something going on at the community centre tonight,’ said Rose conversationally as they drove into the village. ‘There are a lot of cars parked over on the Rec. Must be something special – it’s absolutely jam-packed. I haven’t seen any posters up, have you?’
‘Probably some sort of private function,’ said Jack, slowing down for the junction.
‘You think? Oh look, over there, Jack, isn’t that Peter Hudson?’ said Rose, pointing to a man getting out of a parked car close to the community centre. She craned around to get a better look. ‘Yes, you know I’m sure that is him. He’s all dressed up. I wonder what he’s doing in Crowbridge? We haven’t seen him and Mary for ages.’
‘You’re right,’ said Jack. ‘Would you mind if we stopped and had a quick word with him, Fleur? I mean, there’s nothing spoiling at home, is there? I’m surprised Peter or Mary didn’t give us a ring, they usually do if they know they’re coming out this way.’
‘I feel sick,’ said Fleur in a pitiful little voice from the back seat.
‘What?’ said Rose, swinging round.
‘Sick,’ muttered Fleur miserably. ‘Really sick – I feel awful. I think it might be because I’m sitting in the back of the car. Would you mind if we just went home?’
She sounded so pathetic that Rose didn’t feel she could refuse. Turning to Jack, Rose said, ‘We’d better go home. We can always ring Peter tomorrow – or do you want Jack to stop the car?’
Fleur shook her head. ‘No, no, I just need to get home.’
‘He’s nipped through the cut anyway,’ said Jack. ‘In a hurry to get somewhere obviously. Maybe he’s popping round to see if we’re in.’
Rose glanced at Fleur. ‘Is it your stomach?’
From the back seat Fleur groaned theatrically. ‘I don’t know. I just don’t feel right. Have you got any milk of magnesia in the house?’ she whimpered.
Rose craned round to take a good hard look at her sister. ‘I don’t think we have actually. You do look a bit flushed. Do you think it was something you ate?’
‘I don’t know.’
‘We all ate more or less the same,’ said Jack. ‘Are you going to be sick? Only if you are, give me a shout and I’ll stop.’
‘Maybe you’re coming down with something. You can pick bugs up anywhere, could have been that fresh cream in the cakes,’ said Rose conversationally. ‘Or on the door of that toilet. What are those people thinking? I mean, for goodness, sake, how much does a bottle of bleach cost?’
‘Would you mind if we just stopped off at the shop? They’re bound to have some milk of magnesia there,’ said Fleur.
‘Maybe if you’re not feeling well we should cancel going out this evening? I’ve
already said I really don’t mind not going out, especially if you’d prefer to stay in. We could pick up a DVD from the shop, they have a good selection in there – unless you want to go to bed? Everyone would understand. And I don’t suppose Liz would mind going out with Grant without us there to cramp her style. I mean, Rocco’s is a bit upmarket, not to mention pricey.’
‘We can’t call it off, Rose. She wants us to meet him,’ said Jack.
‘Well, we can always meet him, and then after he’s said hello they can go off and eat. You know how she feels about our house. Mind you, she was like that when she was at school, always trying to smarten us up—’
‘Don’t say that,’ said Jack. ‘She loves coming home, you know she does. Liz just worries too much about what other people think, that’s all.’
‘She’ll get over that,’ said Fleur.
‘Well, all I’m saying is that I don’t mind staying in if you want to,’ said Rose. ‘It’s been a long day, and we can’t drag Fleur out if she’s feeling poorly now, can we?’
Fleur sighed. ‘Let’s see how I feel later, shall we? After I’ve had something to help settle my stomach. I mean, I wouldn’t want to spoil the evening for the rest of you.’
Rose laughed. ‘You won’t, you brave little soldier. Come on, let’s get you home. I’ll make you a nice cup of tea just as soon as we get in.’
In the back seat Fleur lay back and closed her eyes.
Chapter Eleven
‘They’re on their way, Peter Hudson just saw them passing the Rec,’ Sam called to Suzie as he dashed into the marquee, clapping his hands together to attract everyone’s attention.
‘Hello? Hello!’ he called. ‘Can I have your attention please? Just to let you know that Rose and Jack are on their way. It’ll just be a few more minutes before they get here – they’ve just been seen on Low Road near the recreation ground by one of the guests. So if we can ask everyone to be really quiet now and make sure you’ve got a glass in your hand. And no one leaves the marquee, please, until after they get here. It shouldn’t be more than a few minutes before they arrive – okay? And please keep as quiet as you can. Suzie, are you coming round the front to meet them?’