by Sue Welfare
The booze was making her feel all sentimental, but she had to admit to herself that even after all these years she hadn’t quite got over the shock of Fleur moving to Australia. There was a part of her that missed having her sister around, missed the bickering and the bitching and big belly laughs that they had shared as children and young teenagers. Where had all those years gone?
‘Right, if you two could sit there . . . and then Liz and Suzie behind and could you two go either side? Fantastic, we’re nearly there . . .’
Standing alongside Rose, Megan was practically bursting with excitement, although poor Hannah looked as if she would prefer to be anywhere but there with the family. Being a teenager seemed to be such a terrible trial these days. Perhaps life had been easier when you had to go out to work at fifteen and all that angst could be directed into packing shelves or serving customers or doing the filing. You’d never have got away with being so temperamental when she was in her teens because life simply wouldn’t let you.
As soon as she got a few moments alone with her, Rose planned to suggest that Hannah went off and spent the rest of the evening with her friends. Fleur meanwhile was tinkering with her hair. She looked a little preoccupied, but then again it had been a long, hard day. Maybe she was just tired – after all, neither of them were teenagers any more.
Suzie was smiling, but she almost always was. It was nice to see she had made an effort to dress up rather than turn up in her usual jeans and a shirt – her outfit really was stunning. Blue suited her. Despite the smiles and the dress, if you knew her well – which Rose obviously did – Suzie looked stressed, but then Rose knew she had a lot on her mind. Suzie was one of those people who got on with life just as it was, whereas Liz, who looked as if she had just stepped out of a beauty parlour, liked things just so – her way or not at all. Beauty parlour or not, tonight Liz looked positively radiant, almost triumphant. It was amazing what a little romance could do for the soul.
Rose wondered what time Liz’s new man would be turning up; from the expression on her face it surely couldn’t be that much longer now. She looked like the cat that got the cream. As the man finally gave them the thumbs up, Liz struck a pose, all eyes and teeth. Rose laughed; she’d been doing the same thing ever since she was a toddler.
The camera clicked. ‘That’s fabulous,’ the man purred. ‘I think that’s the money shot – lovely – thank you, ladies, now if we could just have the happy couple and the best man and the bridesmaids and I think that’s us more or less done, don’t you?’ He waved Peter Hudson and Jack over. ‘If you’d like to come this way, gentlemen.’
‘I haven’t been able to find Janet,’ Liz said to her mum.
‘It’s all right,’ said Rose lightly. ‘We can always catch up with her later.’
‘But Mum . . .’ Liz began, but the photographer was already shepherding his next victims into position. ‘I was saying that we could ask the band to ask her to come to the stage.’
‘I wouldn’t. She’d hate the fuss,’ Rose said, her attention on Hannah, who was very slowly working her way over to the steps. ‘Honestly, I’m sure she won’t mind.’
‘She hasn’t had the chance.’ Liz said.
The photographer topped up Rose’s champagne glass and handed out glasses to the others.
‘Right, now we can just get the bride and groom sitting on the chairs in the centre and if you two, Fleur, Peter, it would be lovely if you two could stand at the back . . . And if you’d like to put your arms around each other . . . That’s lovely. Fleur, if you could just manage a smile . . .’
Rose’s only real regret about the whole evening was they hadn’t said anything sooner to the girls about the divorce, but then if they had they wouldn’t be having the party now, would they? And it was such a nice night.
‘Smile,’ said the man.
‘As if I could do anything else with my arm round a beautiful woman,’ said Peter from behind her. Trust Peter Hudson to drop them in it. She glanced up at his smug expression. She had always liked Mary, but Peter was a different matter entirely.
She lifted her glass as the photographer waved them higher. So lovely to see so many familiar faces. She could tell by the look on Jack’s face that he was having a lovely time too. He was such a good man, and Rose guessed from the notes he’d been making on his napkin during supper that he was trying to work out exactly what he was going to say when it came to making a speech, although surely no one was expecting one – not really. He’d said his thank yous before they started to eat and Peter was bound to have something prepared.
‘That’s lovely, thank you very much, I think that’s all, folks,’ the photographer was saying.
‘Well, thank God for that,’ said Jack with a grin, leaning closer. ‘I thought he was never going to bloody finish.’
Among the murmurs of agreement, Rose noticed Hannah slipping away into the crowd.
*
As soon as the group broke up, Peter Hudson took it upon himself to jump down off the dais and make a beeline for the stage. Taking a microphone from one of the band members, he began calling the marquee to order.
‘Ladies and gentlemen, if you’d like to take your seats please. I reckon it’s time we got this show on the road and – if you remember what a great time we all had first time around, those of us who were here – it’s time we got this party started. So make sure you’ve something in your glasses for the toasts. I think the plan is speeches, toasts, then a film and outside for the fireworks before the dancing really gets going. So if you’d like to take your seats.’
Suzie hurried across to intercept him. ‘Peter, can I have a quick word?’ she said, as people began to drift back to their tables.
‘You didn’t mind me doing that, did you?’ he said, as they made their way across to the top table. ‘Only you know what your dad’s like, just letting things ride. I thought we’d better make a start before people get too drunk,’ he continued, pulling his notes out of his jacket pocket. ‘Mind you, I suppose there’s probably a better chance of my jokes getting a decent laugh if the audience is well oiled.’
‘I’m sure they’re great, Peter, but there’s been a slight change of plan.’ Suzie looked around to see if she could spot Liz, but she seemed to have vanished just at the moment when Suzie could do with a little moral support. ‘We won’t be running the film. Bit of a technical hitch. We’ve been chatting and I know you’ve done a lot of work on your speech but we were thinking that maybe we could cut them back a bit. Perhaps you could just do a bit of a thank you for coming kind of thing? Make it a bit more informal.’
Peter looked puzzled. ‘I thought the whole idea was to make it just like their wedding reception. I’ve been working on my speech for weeks,’ he said, and then he laughed. ‘I promise you it’s not long and it’s not dull if that’s what you’re worried about, and people are expecting it. Forty years of marriage is not something to be sniffed at, you know.’ And then he grinned slyly and tapped the side of his nose again, which was just the kind of thing Suzie had been worried about.
‘You should see your face, pet,’ he said. ‘Relax, I’m not going to let the cat out of the bag if that’s what you’re thinking. Let’s be honest, in this day and age your mum and dad still being together after all these years is something to be proud of. It’ll be fine. Trust me.’
She stared at him and hoped he was right.
*
Behind the screens in the kitchen area, the staff were busily clearing up and packing away. Matt was helping one of the waitresses to finish off wrapping and boxing up little slices of anniversary cake for people to take home and for Suzie to post out to those guests who couldn’t make it.
‘Can I have a word with you?’ said a male voice. Matt looked up. ‘Sure, how can I help?’ Sam was standing on the other side of the table with a face like thunder. ‘I want to know exactly what’s going on between you and my wife,’ he growled.
Matt’s expression remained firmly neutral. ‘I’m not s
ure what you mean,’ he said.
Sam leant in a little closer. ‘Oh I think you do. I saw you earlier, all over her like a bloody rash.’
‘I’m not with you,’ said Matt.
‘All that crap about expanding the business and the bloody animals is a smokescreen, isn’t it?’ Sam’s tone was icy cold and held a barely concealed threat. ‘I saw you out there, feeding my wife cake. Do you think I’m a complete moron?’
‘Look, Sam, I don’t know what’s going on here, but I think you really ought to talk to Suzie about this,’ Matt said, calmly and evenly. He was used to dealing with leery customers and he had promised Suzie that he wouldn’t say anything about the TV show. ‘She—’
‘Is my fucking wife,’ roared Sam, launching himself around the table and grabbing Matt by the throat. ‘You bastard. How long has this been going on? Have you been sleeping with her? Of course you have – it’s bloody obvious – how could I be so stupid?’
Matt was so stunned he didn’t resist. ‘What? ’ he said incredulously, smelling the booze on Sam’s breath.
‘You heard me,’ Sam snorted.
‘Come off it, mate, don’t be so ridiculous. I don’t know what the hell you’re talking about.’
‘Don’t take me for an idiot, Matt – all those bloody meetings and long business lunches. I know exactly what’s going on,’ he snarled.
Matt held up his hands in surrender. ‘I don’t think you do. You’re making a huge mistake here, Sam – it’s not like that at all . . . Please go and talk to Suzie about this, will you?’
‘Oh, I will, don’t you worry,’ growled Sam, pulling him closer so that his face was just inches away from Matt’s. ‘I just wanted to hear your side of the story first. So what is it you’re not telling me that you think will be better coming from her? Not man enough to own up yourself, are you? Slimy little bastard. I should have bloody known.’ He pushed Matt away. ‘What sort of man are you?’
‘I’m Suzie’s friend, that’s what I am, Sam,’ Matt said, rubbing his neck. ‘And you should know she’s better than that.’
Sam squared up again, red faced and tensing for a fight. ‘Oh right. “Friends”, eh? So that’s what they call it, is it?’
‘Look, you’re drunk, please go and talk to Suzie—’
Just then there was a disturbance behind them and a woman ran around the end screen of the kitchen yelling his name. ‘Matt, Matt, please can you come out and help sort this out! Some kids have nicked a load of booze from the bar. Come quick, quick!’
*
Fleur topped up her glass and headed back to the table to take her seat. Hannah had vanished, Sam too, and Megan was hanging around on the edge of the stage looking like she was going to make a break for it at any time. Liz looked smug, Suzie looked distracted – only Rose and Jack looked at all themselves, although surely they had to be wondering if someone would let the cat out of the bag about their not being married at all.
Happy families my arse, she thought. And the cheek of Peter-Bloody-Hudson, just who did he think he was? She took a sip of wine. Bastard.
Somewhere deep in the confines of her handbag, her phone started to ring again. She pulled it out and took a look at the name on the caller display. It was Frank. She sighed. He was a great guy with a sense of humour that matched her own and she had played it all wrong. Their first real date – when she had warned him that he’d better watch out because she could be snappy – was to a crocodile farm, where even she couldn’t compete with the snap on show there.
And Frank was kind – the manky cat she had found out the back of her house that she been nursing hadn’t fazed him one bit, and he’d been there with the gardening gloves and a blanket to grab and wrap the bloody thing every time she needed to give it tablets or clean up its latest scrape. She looked heavenwards and blinked back a little flurry of tears; all those years she had been waiting for someone to see her tender side and finally, when someone did, she had driven him away.
The phone rang on.
She considered whether to ignore him but on balance thought it would be better to get whatever it was out of the way; after all, how much worse could things get?
‘Hello?’ she said, finger in one ear to cut out the background noise.
‘Hello, Fleur, Fleur, is that you?’ said Frank.
‘Certainly is,’ she said, watching Peter making his way across to Mary, presumably before heading back to the top table. She could have sworn he was looking her way to see if she was looking at him.
‘Where are you?’ Frank was saying. The line was bad and full of crackles, pings and breaks in the flow.
‘Good question,’ she murmured miserably, and then said, in a louder voice. ‘At my sister’s. You knew that – I’m at their surprise party. Why?’
‘I’ve got a surprise for you too,’ he said.
‘Oh really – what’s that then? Managed to find yourself a little surf babe while I’ve been away, have you? Don’t tell me, you’re taking her to Bali for a holiday.’
Frank laughed, his good humour not at all pricked by her sharp tongue, or perhaps the signal was so bad he couldn’t hear how miserable she sounded. ‘Not exactly. How’s the party going?’
Peter was kissing Mary now; bloody hypocrite.
‘Fine,’ she sighed. ‘Just fine.’
‘You sound a bit down.’
Peter was heading back towards the dais now and as he caught her eye he winked.
‘Oh don’t mind me,’ she said, suddenly full of tears. ‘It’s been a long day and I’m tired and . . .’ Fleur stopped speaking. ‘Oh, I’m so sorry, Frank – look, I’ve really got to go. They’re just about to do the speeches.’ And before he could reply she hung up.
*
Hannah had managed to get outside and into the garden without being noticed by anyone. Having slipped around the back of the marquee, she was heading for the back gate and freedom when she heard a commotion behind her. Glancing back over her shoulder, she was amazed to see Sadie bearing down on her, whooping and squealing like a banshee, her hair streaming out behind her, Tucker following hot on her heels. Both were carrying a bottle in each hand and had their arms outstretched as if pretending to be aeroplanes, and both were roaring with laughter. She had assumed they had left for Sadie’s house ages ago but apparently not. Simon was nowhere in sight.
‘Come on, come on,’ shrieked Sadie, giggling madly. ‘Quick, quick. Run! They’re right behind us. Come on – run!’
‘What?’ yelled Hannah, bemused and still in shock at seeing them there.
‘Look what we got, in and out. We’d have been all right if it hadn’t been for bloody Tucker here, telling the barmaid we’d be coming back for more. Look, party-time,’ she said, waving the bottles. ‘Oh my God, here they come. Run . . . run!’
Hannah looked back across the lawn to see Matt and a barmaid heading towards them. Sadie’s panic and excitement was contagious and, without really thinking about the consequences, Hannah found herself throwing open the back gate and running through it, followed close behind by Sadie and Tucker.
‘Keep going, don’t stop, don’t stop . . .’ squealed Sadie in a ragged, hysterical voice. ‘They’re catching up, they’re catching up,’
Hannah did as she was told.
*
When he got to the corner of the lane, Matt stopped and bent double, hands on his knees as he dragged in a great lungful air.
‘I thought you said you worked out,’ said the barmaid, as she came trotting up behind him.
‘I do,’ gasped Matt.
‘You could have fooled me. They’re getting away,’ she said, somewhat unnecessarily.
‘I know that,’ said Matt, still panting hard. ‘But I’m not going to kill myself chasing kids a third my age to get back a couple of bottles of booze – they’re on a mission and I’m not.’
‘You want me to go and get a couple of the lads out of the kitchen?’ asked the girl. ‘I reckon they could catch them.’
Matt sho
ok his head. ‘No. I know exactly who it is. What was it they took?’
‘A bottle of Avoca, half a bottle of cherry brandy and two big bottles of that blue alcopop stuff – I reckon they just grabbed the first things they came to.’
Matt laughed. ‘Jesus, that’s going to be one hell of a cocktail.’
‘You think they’re going to drink it?’ asked the girl.
Matt looked at her. ‘Well, they didn’t nick it to pour in the bath, did they?’
*
Megan had been watching everyone with interest all evening. Mum and Dad were bickering, Grandma and Granddad kept whispering to each other, but not like they usually did, Liz kept hurrying off, and Hannah had vanished. You didn’t have to be a genius to know that something was up. But was it all the same thing or different things?
She was just about to sneak off and find Hannah, to see if she could find out, when Grandpa Jack came over and sat down alongside her.
‘All right?’ he asked. ‘Having a good time, are you?’
‘It’s a bit boring.’
He nodded. ‘That’s grown-ups for you. Do you want anything? A drink or something?’
‘I was thinking of maybe going outside for a while.’
‘Okay, I’m sure your mum wouldn’t mind. You could go into the cottage and watch a DVD later if you like; we’re just going to do the speeches now.’
‘Do I have to stay for them?’ asked Megan.
He smiled. ‘I think your mum would like you to, why don’t you ask her?’
Megan and Grandpa Jack got on really well. He’d taught her how to tie her shoelaces and mend a puncture in her bike and read the plans to put together her desk. He could mend anything but he didn’t talk much and she liked that about him. When they were doing things together, he treated her like she knew things and was already somebody, not just a little kid, and he didn’t try to fill the spaces up with noise and words that meant nothing like some grown-ups did. As far as she knew he’d never ever told her anything but the truth.
Megan glanced up at him. He had nice eyes that were always bright and full of fun and life. She knew that, of all the adults there, if she could just find the right question, Grandpa Jack would be the one to tell her what was going on. If only she could just find the right question. They sat in silence for a few seconds while Megan thought it through and then finally she said, ‘Grandpa, what exactly is the matter with everyone tonight?’