by Rhoda Baxter
"Skeletor," said Tom. "One the scariest villains ever." He glanced from one girl to the other and threw up his hands. "I can't believe you've not heard of them. Kids. Honestly!"
"Whatever." Alice continued using her phone.
Stevie sat on the other side of Alice, where she felt she might be free from the temptation of staring at Tom. His comment about kids rankled. It meant he still thought of her as very young, despite the fact that she was now an adult. It seemed to be a curse on her that all men would think she was still a child. She stretched her legs out in front of her and closed her eyes. A breeze passed, cooling her down. She tilted her head back and let it waft over her, revelling in the feeling.
For a moment there was silence, apart from the rustling breeze and the muted beeps from Alice's phone. Stevie opened her eyes. Her ice cream was starting to melt, she took a long lick to catch the drip that was making its way towards her hand. Hearing what sounded like a cough, she turned, just in time to see Tom's gaze move away from her. He turned to eating his ice cream with ferocious concentration.
Stevie wondered if he was thinking about their conversation the night before. Judging by the deep shadows under his eyes, he hadn't slept much at all. Her glance flicked to his hands. No sign of a tremor. Perhaps gardening was doing him good.
There she was, thinking about him again. She forced herself to turn her attention to the far end of the garden and think about what else needed to be done for the ball. They still had a lot of tickets to sell if they were going to make any money.
Beside her, Alice gave a little snigger.
Tom reached out a foot and poked Alice with his toe. "What's funny?"
"Dad," said Alice, still giggling. She read off the screen. "Apparently he thinks he's found a new sort of beetle. He's all excited about it. He's wondering whether to call it..." She read it off the screen. "Acilius danieli or Acilius blackwoodus" She shook her head. "My parents are so lame."
When Stevie looked at Tom, he rolled his eyes.
"I guess it would be rather nice to have something named after you," she said to Alice.
"The Blackwood Beetle?" said Tom.
Alice giggled. "That's really funny. I'm going to email Dad and suggest that."
"Don't tell him it was my idea. He'll think I'm taking the piss." Tom's gaze flicked to Stevie and back. "Which, of course, I would never dream of doing."
Alice slurped up the last of her ice cream and started munching on the cone, while still typing with one hand. "There. See what he says to that. He'll be all about beetles when he gets back. You have no idea how boring he and Mum can get when they talk about bugs."
Stevie thought of her brother, but refrained from saying anything. For a moment there was silence. Tom's face had clouded over. She wondered if he was thinking about his successful older brother.
"When are your parents back?" she asked Alice.
Alice waved a sticky hand. "A few weeks. They'll probably go home for a week and then to the institute before they come here to get me."
"They seem to go to some exotic places to look for these things," said Stevie. "Don't you ever wish you could go with them?"
"Ugh. And sleep in a tent in the middle of the jungle? With, like, huge spiders and mosquitoes and things? No thanks." Alice sighed. "Most of my friends go to fun places like skiing in the Alps."
"Dangerous sport, skiing." Tom gestured with his Magnum. "Og broke her collar bone last year."
"Og?" Alice frowned. "Is that your friend from school? What's her real name? It can't possibly be Og."
"Olivia."
"I bet she has a cool job."
Stevie had to smile. "What qualifies as a cool job, in your opinion?"
Alice stared into space. "Well, something interesting and cool. I mean, your job's pretty cool--organising parties. I bet you get to go to lots of interesting people's houses and meet famous people."
"I guess so. I did when I worked for my friend Louise." She'd met one famous person. And then there was Pete, but she'd met him at a wedding, not in the course of work, so perhaps that didn't count.
"You're job's pretty cool too, Uncle Tom," said Alice.
"It is?"
"Yeah. You know, working in the city. Power lunches. Corporate do's."
"It's not all like that. We have to do some work in between too." Tom's eyes were twinkling.
Alice waved a dismissive hand. "Yeah, but I'm sure it's worth it."
Stevie didn't hear Tom's reply, because her phone rang. It was a woman from the Triphoppers office. "We'd like to buy two tickets to your ball."
"Okay. Where do you want me to send them?"
The woman rattled off an address.
Stevie checked around her. There wasn't a pen or paper in sight. "Um, I'm really sorry, but can I call you back for the address? I don't have a pen on me at the moment." Oh God, this was embarrassing.
The woman sighed. "Why don't you email me and I'll send it to you. It's Sharon at triphoppers dot com."
"I'll do that, thanks."
"And Cause Celeb Will be there?"
"Absolutely."
She hung up and punched the air. "Yes!"
"Who was that?" said Alice.
"Guess who is coming to our ball." Stevie was grinning so widely her cheeks hurt.
Alice sat up a little straighter. "Someone famous?"
Stevie nodded. "Someone you like."
"Ashby? Off Triphoppers."
"Er...no. Very close though. Pete," said Stevie. "And someone from Cause Celeb. Hopefully with a photographer in tow."
Alice shrieked. "Oh my God. Oh my God." She pulled her phone out and started typing frantically.
"What are you doing now?" Tom wore a puzzled frown.
"I'm telling people on the forum." Alice held up a hand to stop him saying anything else. "In a minute."
Tom shook his head. "That's pretty impressive. How did you manage that?" he said to Stevie.
"I phoned up Triphoppers and told them Cause Celeb were coming," said Stevie.
"And how did you get Cause Celeb to agree?"
"I told them someone from Triphoppers would be coming."
Tom stared at her for a moment. "That's..."
"Devious?" Stevie raised her eyebrows. "Cheeky?"
"Well, yes, but I was actually going to say 'genius'." He gave her an appraising look. "It must take some balls to pull off a stunt like that."
Stevie inclined her head modestly, accepting the compliment. "Mind you," she said. "It did help that I had some contact with Pete already. He's a friend of Jane's."
"Jane is?"
"My sister-in-law."
"Oh yes. Marshall's wife." He made a face. "Marsh was always such a quiet, spoddy sort of guy. I can't imagine him married to someone who used to hang out with pop stars."
"Who's Marsh?" Alice still had her head bent over her phone.
"My brother."
Alice looked up. "Hang on." She pointed her phone at Tom. "You know her brother?"
Tom shrugged. "We were at Uni together."
Alice's head swung round to look at Stevie. "So your brother is the same age as Uncle Tom? I thought you were, you know, young." She looked Stevie up and down, as though searching for signs of aging.
Stevie laughed. "I'm twenty-two," she said. "There's an eight-year age gap between me and my brother."
Alice frowned as she did a mental calculation. "So he's thirty."
"Nice to see that expensive education isn't wasted," said Tom.
Alice gave him a playful kick.
Tom smiled. His gaze moved towards Stevie and his smile faded. He stood up and dusted off his jeans. "I'd better get back to work."
* * * *
From: Olivia Gornall
To: Tom Blackwood
So, how are things going with the jailbait girl?
##
From: Tom Blackwood
To: Olivia Gornall
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She is NOT jailbait! She's 22.
##
From: Olivia Gornall
To: Tom Blackwood
Whatever. Now tell me what happened.
##
From: Tom Blackwood
To: Olivia Gornall
Nothing's happened with Stevie and nothing is ever going to. I don't do commitment and she's not the sort of girl you shag and leave. So nothing is going to happen.
I just wish she wasn't so damned attractive. I was watching her eating an ice cream this afternoon. Honestly, if you're trying not to find someone sexy, watching them lick an ice cream in the sun is NOT a good thing to be doing.
Luckily my niece was there being her usual teenage self, so I tried to talk to her instead.
Incidentally, I can't believe Alice is the same kid I used to swing around and play helicopter rides with. What happened to that sweet little girl? She's 90% attitude now.
##
From: Olivia Gornall
To: Tom Blackwood
Woah. I've never known you to have such scruples before. You must really like this girl. Perhaps it's love.
##
From: Tom Blackwood
To: Olivia Gornall
That's not fair. I always make sure the girls know that I don't do commitment. Most of them are fine with that. The ones that aren't... well, things go no further.
I don't do love. I like Stevie. It's not often I meet a girl I find attractive that I can't have. That's probably what's bugging me. I'll get over it as soon as she's not in sight anymore.
* * * *
Stevie returned to the kitchen to find Evelyn and Priya frowning at the trays laden with food.
"What's the matter?"
"I think we've got too much food and nowhere to store it," said Evelyn, pulling a face.
"I thought you'd sorted out fridge space with a number of people."
"I think we underestimated the amount of food," said Priya. "We can house this lot, but we don't have anywhere for the rest of it."
All three of them looked at the food. It was a lot to waste. Not to mention the fact that they needed it in order to cater for the event. Stevie felt panic starting to rise in her throat.
Tom came into the kitchen and filled a pint glass with water. "What's the matter?" he said, over his shoulder.
"We're running out of fridge space to store the food." Stevie glanced again at the samosas. She knew this was only part of the food mountain. They were supposed to be preparing fish cutlets the next day. They would need to be stored too. Not to mention all the stuff that was to be made fresh on the day. Given the summer heat, everything would dry up and go off if left lying around in the kitchen. And the food poisoning risk didn't bear thinking about.
Evelyn groaned and sank into a chair. "This is awful. All this lovely food and all that effort gone to waste."
Priya said nothing, but looked like she might burst into tears. Stevie sat down next to Evelyn. As the party planner it was her job to sort out things like this. She closed her eyes. They needed somewhere cool. It didn't have to be a fridge, just something under five degrees. She opened her eyes. "You don't have an ice house here, by any chance?"
Evelyn glared at her like she'd gone mad. "Of course not. This is a house, not a stately home."
"Right. Sorry. How about a cellar of some sort? Somewhere cool."
Evelyn frowned. "I don't think so."
"What about the wine cellar?" said Tom, from near the sink. "That's pretty cold. It's practically underground."
The wine cellar. Of course. A house this size would have a wine cellar. "Is it rat free and safe for food?"
"It's definitely rat free," Evelyn said. "I can't stand rodents. I've put traps and poison down anywhere that's likely to house them. I'm not sure about safe for food. What do you mean?"
"I mean, is it cold and dry and reasonably clean."
"It's a bit dusty," said Evelyn. "It is a wine cellar."
Stevie stood up. "Show me," she said. "We might be able to clean it up and use it. We only need the food to keep for thirty-six hours."
"Tom darling, could you get the key from my office?" said Evelyn, perking up. "You know where it is."
"Better still," Tom drained his glass of water. "I'll show Stevie where it is. Come on, Winfield."
Winfield. That's what Marsh's friends used to call him. For some reason Stevie felt a shiver of resentment. It meant Tom still saw her as Marsh's baby sister. Pulling her thoughts back to the task at hand, she followed him down various corridors via Evelyn's office.
He led her round the back of the house into a sheltered area beneath the fire escapes that she'd never noticed before. It was gloomy in contrast to the bright sunlight on the courtyard outside. Steep steps ran downwards to a door. Only a few inches of the door was visible from ground level. If Tom hadn't pointed it out, she would have walked straight past it.
Tom put the old fashioned iron key in the lock and gave it a good twist. The door rasped open, revealing a dark room. He disappeared into it.
"There's a light in here somewhere," he muttered. Stevie could just about make him out as he ran his hand along the wall searching for the switch. She stayed firmly outside.
"Ah." The light came on.
Stevie descended the last few steps. Tom moved along to make space for her inside.
The drop in temperature was immediately obvious. She would have to bring a thermometer in to be sure, but Stevie felt that it was probably cool enough for their needs. The room was roughly rectangular and lined with shelving. Light was provided by a single naked bulb in the middle of the room. The shelves contained a scattering of things. Stevie took a jar down and read it. "Blackberry jam," she read. "From last year."
Tom was farther down the room. "And here is Dad's wine collection." He moved aside so that she could come and stand next to him. The back wall was a huge wine rack full of bottles. Judging by the dust on them, the bottles had been put there a few years ago.
Tom touched a bottle, almost reverentially. "This was my Dad's other hobby. He'd buy wine when on holiday in France and lay it down." His hand moved purposefully to one side of the rack. "Here," he said, pointing to about half a dozen bottles with little tags on them. "These were laid down when Dan and I were born. We used most of Dan's bottles when he got married and when Alice was born." He pointed to the ones just below. "These are mine." He ran a finger along one of the bottles. "We haven't found an event worthy enough to open these yet."
Stevie felt the tone of sadness in his voice and felt sorry for him. It must have been hard trying to struggle out of the shadow of his brother. She would have liked to have put an arm around him and comforted him, but she didn't trust herself. Or him.
Leaving Tom still standing in front of the wine, she turned her attention to the shelves. There was plenty of room. The trays of food could be stored here, provided they were well covered. She ran a finger along the shelf. It was bare wood and in need of a good cleaning. She frowned.
"What do you think?" Tom turned round so quickly that his elbow brushed her back. His touch sent a bolt of electricity through her spine. Suddenly, she had goosebumps.
"It'll do for the food," she said. "But it'll need to be cleaned out. We'd have to wipe the shelves clean and line them with paper, just to be sure."
"Shouldn't take too long," said Tom. "I'll do it if you like."
"Oh no, you've got lots to do--"
"It'll do me good to get out of the sun for a few hours." he said with a grin. "And I'm sure you've got more important things to attend to."
Stevie nodded and rubbed her arm. The goosebumps had very little to do with the cold, but covering up would be a good idea, especially if Tom was going to be around.
* * * *
www.Triphoppers.co.uk/forum/RandomChat/Pete< br>LuvAshbysEyes<
br />
OMG! I've just had the BEST news. PETE GOSLING is coming to my Gran's house. Not, like, for tea or anything. For this charity ball thing we're having. Squeeeee!
##
TrippinHoppin
Wow! That's incredible news.
What's this charity ball all about? How comes Pete's coming?
##
LuvAshbysEyes
Gran hired this party planner woman who knows Pete. She talked him into coming. I still can't believe it! In a few days' time Pete is going to be walking on the same floors, sitting on the same furniture as me! And I get to meet him!!!!! In person!!!
##
Penguin82
When and where is this party? Do U need tkts? R there any still available?
##
LuvAshbysEyes
It's a charity ball. All proceeds go to this project to buy equipment for a children's hospital in Sri Lanka. I think there's a website. I'll see if I can find the URL.
Tickets - you can email
I SO need a new dress. And shoes.
##
Penguin82
I've emailed. I hope there are still some tix left. Pete's my favourite!
* * * *
From: Human Resources
To: Tom Blackwood
Dear Thomas
A panel from our Middle East HQ will be visiting on Thursday afternoon. We are arranging for an informal meeting for the shortlisted candidates. The meeting is scheduled from 11.30 until 15.30. Lunch will be provided.
Regards
Anne Weston
HR Assistant.
##
From: Tom Blackwood
To: Human Resources
Dear Anne
I confirm that I can attend.
Regards
Tom Blackwood
##
From: Tom Blackwood
To: Olivia Gornall