by Jacky Gray
Liv appreciated the change of subject. “Tonight. I should be back at school on Monday.” She caught Kat giving Jude a knowing look.
“The guys send their love.”
Jude’s lips pursed, her tone critical. “I’m surprised Terry didn’t come himself, he said he would.”
“He doesn’t do hospitals.” Liv shook her head. “Always in and out of them as a child; he was quite sickly you know.”
“Well, he certainly seemed quite taken with Alison ...”
“Jude!” Kat shot her a warning look.
“It’s all right, don’t worry. We both knew this would never be a great romance.” Always a realist, Liv’s grin was tinged with wistfulness. “It’s not like we’re Romeo and Juliet. But we enjoy each other’s company, and it’s handy for both of us to have a partner for the time being.”
“Until something better turns up.” Jude shot a loaded glance at Kat.
“I suppose you could say that, yes.” Liv sighed as fatigue caught up with her. “Can this be the end of it?”
Jude’s face screamed grudging reluctance. “Ok. I guess it answers my question about whether you’d be up for skating tomorrow.”
Liv sank back into the pillow. Ever the optimist, our Jude.
7 We Should Tell Her First
Jude’s mind wasn’t on the job as she tried for the fifth time to complete the tricky choreography for the new routine. Bernie had stressed how he’d made it much harder than normal in his effort to push her; the only way she would stand a chance in the up-and-coming championships.
But today, her body refused to cooperate while her brain tried to cope with events of the past few weeks. Finally, he shooed her off early. She skated over to the side and adjusted her boot laces which had worked loose during practice.
Hands covered her eyes. “Hi, babe. How was Liv?”
She surrendered to Luke’s hug, relishing the warmth. “The doc gave her the all clear, but her mum’s put a no-no on strenuous activity for at least a week. Otherwise she’d be here.”
Ray wheeled up. “At least she won’t have to do sports on Wednesday. That should go down well.” He pointed to his face, waiting for her customary peck on the cheek, ignoring Luke’s pretend growl.
Jude obliged. “Normally I’d agree, but she’s been running a couple of miles every day for the last few weeks.”
“I wondered why she was dashing off every night. I thought I’d done something to upset her.” Ray frowned. “Did you guys know about this?”
“Nah, Kat and I walk home a different way.” Luke grinned at a commotion from the other side of the rink. “Talk of the devil. She’s got that Irish cousin of hers in tow. Now the craic starts.”
Jude shrugged, ignoring the last tiny vestige of resentment because Liv hadn’t confided in her. “I knew she had to go and pick Davey up occasionally, but apparently she was running round the park first.”
Admiration tinged Ray’s grin. “Never does things by half, that girl.”
Jude watched without the jealous pang as Luke hugged Kat – a little less bearlike than previously. The same as her kissing Ray like a brother.
Kat apologised. “I had the devil’s own job persuading this Leprechaun he wasn’t going to break a bone on the ice. The car had no petrol so we stopped on the way. Then there were no parking spaces ...”
“Will you whisht, woman, and tell me how I’m supposed to be walking in these stoopid boots?” Liam teetered like a guy in high heels.
Luke adopted his posh voice. “It’s all about balance and elegance, something you bog men don’t get a lot of exposure to.”
“Come here and say that, you great English Colchee.”
But Luke was too quick, dashing out onto the ice and completing a leisurely circuit before stopping to pick Liam up where he’d taken two steps then fallen on the ice.
Jude caught Kat watching them with an indulgent smile and grinned as Luke gave Liam a few tips and took him off on a tentative circuit. As they slid onto the ice, Jude struggled to voice her concerns, and just blurted it out. “Have you noticed Liv acting funny toward Ray?”
“No, why?” Kat stumbled, but righted herself, needing a warm-up.
Jude took her hand as they did a slow circuit. “He asked me a couple of days ago. Apparently, she’s been avoiding him ever since Stratford.”
“Because she’s spending more time with Terry?”
“I thought it might be that, but Ray didn’t seem convinced.”
“Talking of Terry, he was supposed to be coming today.”
“He got here a while ago, but after a couple of minutes Alison turned up and he was off like a shot.” Jude slid a quizzical glance. “I reckon he asked her to come; she didn’t seem to be with anyone else.”
Kat nodded. “Thought I caught a spark between those two.”
“What? But you warned me off saying anything to Liv about it.” Jude did umbrage like it was going out of fashion.
“Before she said about them just being friends. The thing is, I think you’re right; we should tell her before she hears it from someone else.”
“He ought to tell her himself. After all, he was the one who asked her out in the first place.”
“Mmmm. You’re right. I’ll have a word.”
8 We’re Worth It
As Liv decided which earrings to wear, Vicky walked into her room, talking into Liv’s mobile which she’d left downstairs on charge.
“No, she’s out of hospital now. Here she is.” Her sister handed over the phone, mouthing, “It’s Mel.”
Tapping her watch, Vicky left as Mel burst into a tirade.
“What the heck? How could you be in hospital? I thought you had a show to do, what’s going on?”
Liv waited for the barrage of questions to stop before replying, her tone cool. “Hi Mel, how are you? I’m fine thanks, nice of you to ask.”
“I just did, didn’t I? Stop being pedantic and tell me what happened.”
“I sort of collapsed at the end of the show on Wednesday night. Basically, I’d not been eating enough and doing too much and my body just broke.”
“But you’re ok, now?”
“Finally, she asks. As I said, I’m fine.”
“But wasn’t there a show on Thursday? I’m sure Ray said it was all week except Friday.”
“That’s right, Kat had to play Tallulah ’cos no one could do Jude’s dance and Alison played Blowsy.”
“Sounds ... er … wonderful.” Her short attention span had kicked in several minutes earlier. “Um … I don’t suppose you’ve got Ray’s mobile number, have you? Only I was supposed to call him back and Mum’s thrown out the bit of paper with his number on.”
“Sure I can text you when we’re done.”
“Don’t you have it written down? I don’t want to risk you forgetting if you’re all broken.”
“Yeah, hang on a sec it’s in my diary. Hold on.” With a frown, she found the page in her diary and read out the number. After a few more pleasantries, Mel claimed her mother had called her and signed off, leaving Liv to wonder if the only reason she’d rung was to get Ray’s number. Not entirely outside the realms of possibilities. But why wouldn’t she have put it straight in her phone when he told her? Weird.
It was just as well she rang off; Liv’s mum knocked and put her head round the door to say her dad was waiting in the car.
After a short journey, they pulled up outside a posh hotel and hurried inside as the heavens opened.
Sumptuous didn’t do justice to the décor as a maître d’ showed them to their table and offered menus. Liv stared at the glittering chandeliers hanging from an ornately carved ceiling. “I remember this place. Didn’t we come to a wedding reception here a couple of years ago?”
“I think it may have been last year; or even earlier this year.”
“Whatever. I remember the food being delicious.”
“Good, because that’s why we’re here, Sweetheart. To feed you up. So you’d better order
from every course.”
Liv ran her hands over the leather-bound menu with pages made of thick, gold-edged parchment. She scanned down the elaborate writing, her eyes widening at the prices. “This will cost a fortune.” Each starter cost more than she would normally spend on a slap-up meal when she visited any of the cafés in town with Jude and Kat.
“But we’re worth it.” Her mum and Vicky did the L’Oréal hair-twirling bit in sync, and burst into giggles while Davey hid behind his menu.
Her dad gave a long-suffering grin. “It’s been a while since we all went out for a meal together, so order whatever you want. Let me see if I can rustle up some drinks while we’re waiting.” He glanced around.
Right on cue, a young man in a crisp white jacket appeared. “Good evening sir, madam, ladies, young man. My name is James, and I shall be your waiter for this evening’s meal. If there is anything I can do to make your stay with us more enjoyable, please do not hesitate to ask.”
Liv and Vicky exchanged eye-rolls at his old-fashioned speech.
He seemed oblivious, continuing with a smile. “Would you like some drinks while you decide?”
“Certainly. I’ll have a still mineral water. Jane?” Liv’s dad asked her mum first, as usual, then going in age order.
As Liv asked for a slimline bitter lemon with lots of ice, Davey talked over her as he made his demand.
“I want a coke.”
“Say please, Davey.”
“Please, Davey.”
Trying to keep a straight face at the little boy’s cheek, the waiter headed toward the bar.
“They train the staff well, here. What a pleasant young man.” Liv’s mum returned to her perusal of the menu.
The comment required no further elaboration, but it was a father’s duty to tease. “Quite good looking, too. Didn’t you think, girls?”
“Dad, you’re not supposed to say stuff like that.” Vicky played along, giving just the right amount of mock outrage. “I suppose he wasn’t bad.”
“Sorry, wasn’t looking. I’m getting all Pavlovian at these descriptions. Listen to this.” Liv read from the menu. “A selection of succulent saltwater prawns, melt-in-your-mouth mackerel and smoked Scottish salmon, garnished with a fan of avocado and Marie Rose sauce.” She licked her lips “And that’s just a starter. I can’t wait to read the main courses.”
“And you considered for one nanosecond this vat of saliva could be anorexic? Mum, I think it’s you who needs the shrink.”
“Mummy doesn’t need to shrink, there’s not enough of her already.”
As the rest of them cracked up, Liv’s mum smiled. “Oh, Davey. I’ll write that down and put it on the fridge to cheer me up in the morning.”
They had just about stopped laughing when the waiter returned with their drinks, placing them carefully on the table, making sure Davey’s was where he could reach it. He left Liv’s ’til last, keeping his hand on it for a moment until she looked up at him.
“Pardon me, but I couldn’t be sure. It’s Olivia Tranter, isn’t it? I saw you as Tallulah on Wednesday night. You were amazing.”
She looked away, blushing her thanks.
“I heard about the problem at the end of the show. I hope you’re fully recovered, now.”
“Yes, I’m perfectly all right, thank you.” Something about his manner made her speak more correctly than normal. As she looked at him, she felt a glimmer of recognition. “Do I know you?”
“I do believe we’ve met. I am studying in the sixth form at Bryant Rockwell.” He turned to Liv’s dad. “Mr and Mrs Tranter, you must be so proud of your daughter; she’s very special. I do hope you’ll forgive me for speaking out of turn. I just couldn’t help myself.”
“Don’t you worry about it, son. We’re always pleased to take the credit for our daughters’ achievements. But I’m afraid we’re not ready to order yet.”
“This is not a problem; please take your time. I’ll check in five minutes, but if you’re ready before then, and I’m not available, just signal one of the other waiters.”
When he left, Liv’s dad nudged her arm. “I think you’ve made quite a conquest, there. How come we’ve never seen him before?”
“I … don’t think he’s the same boy I was thinking of, but he looks familiar. I’ve probably seen him at school if he’s in the sixth form.”
“I bet he doesn’t look or speak anything like that at school. All the ‘I do hope you’ll forgive me’ nonsense – sounds like he just dropped out of an old black and white film.”
“Now, now, Vicky.” Dad looked over his glasses, using what Vicky called his “preachy pose.” His tone sharpened up to match. “It doesn’t do anyone any harm to enunciate correctly; you could take a few tips.” He turned to his wife. “So, Jane. Are we going red or white? I rather fancy the Malbec, although the Shiraz looks a good ’un.”
As her parents discussed their food choices, Liv thought about her dad’s conquest comment. The waiter was just being polite, wasn’t he?
Liv savoured the delectable meal; every mouthful exploded with exotic flavours on her tongue. The kitchen staff excelled themselves with the impossibly light lemon mousse dessert. This visual feast was served with a rich, raspberry sauce and garnished with wafer-thin slices of exotic fresh fruits sprinkled with finely chopped nuts and seeds.
She also enjoyed the discrete but evident attentions of the waiter, even though she realised his smooth good looks and courtly manners were just part of the role he was playing. And doing it so well she probably wouldn’t recognise him at school, just as Vicky said.
It wasn’t that different to when Liv played the accomplished seductress on stage. But in reality, if any boy tried to step over the mark, she turned straight back into her default setting: inhibited little virgin. Something nearly connected in her brain – something to do with a memory of the past. But, as with the night of the show, it wouldn’t quite leap the gap and when she tried to force it, her head started to hurt.
“Are you ok, Liv? You’ve gone awfully pale.” Her mum’s glance telegraphed “poorly child alert.”
“I’m fine, thank you. A memory just tried to surface, but I guess it’s not ready yet.”
“Would you like some more water?” James hovered with a jug.
She smiled her thanks, aware of her mum’s continued scrutiny. “I guess I am a little tired.” Sipping her water, she cringed at the effect of her words as four pairs of eyes radiated concern.
Davey, of course, demonstrated his total self-centred oblivion by thrusting his half-empty glass at James, spilling most of the contents over the remains of his chocolate sponge and custard.
Before the boy could make a fuss, Dad took charge. “No worries, we’ll skip the coffee. Can we have the bill, please?”
Davey’s expression could have soured milk at twenty paces. “That’s not fair, I won’t be able to have your chocolate mint.”
James put a calming hand on the lad’s shoulder. “Don’t worry, matey. I’ll see what I can do.” With a cute little half-bow in her parent’s direction, he headed to the bar.
“Oh, dear, I hope it wasn’t a bad idea bringing you out so soon.” Her mum’s guilt never strayed far below the surface, and her eyes telegraphed the frustration at not being able to feel Liv’s brow.
Even as Liv gave thanks for the squirming younger brother separating her from her mum, she quashed her hand’s traitorous impulse to reach up and cover her forehead in the worst kind of learned behaviour.
Her mum continued to fret. “We don’t want to put you straight back into hospital.”
“No, really, Mum. I’m fine. I think I just need an early night.”
James returned with the bill on a side plate and another one with foil wrapped chocolate mints which he left in between Davey and Liv.
“Thank you very much.” Liv’s dad handed him back the bill with his gold credit card.
“Thank you, sir.” He took them and disappeared.
As Liv passed th
e mints round, her mum snaffled two. “Nice touch, he didn’t have to do that.”
“Probably looking for a good tip, which he well deserves.” He slid a crisp note under the wooden board which still held pieces of the strangest and smelliest cheeses Liv had ever had the misfortune to be downwind of.
9 A Rose Would Smell As Sweet
The next morning, as they finished breakfast, a knock on the door heralded a florist. Her dad delivered the box with a flourish, dropping a kiss on Liv’s head. With a glance at his watch, he made his excuses and left; the sight of three females exclaiming over this novel event obviously didn’t have sufficient pulling power to make him late for work.
Liv stared at the long, cream box, taking in the elegance of the lacy netting and red bow. Opening it, she was moved by the perfection of the single red rose. The card read: “To the very best Tallulah in town.”
Vicky inspected the card. “But it doesn’t say who it’s from. Just a heart shape and a big kiss. Do you recognise the handwriting?”
Liv took a closer look. “No. In fact, it’s too neat to be from a boy; it looks really girly.”
Her mum offered her two-penneth. “Maybe the florist wrote it. He could have ordered it over the phone.”
“Ohhh, Liv’s got a secret admirer.” Vicky’s eyes twinkled.
Liv shrugged. “Nah, it’s probably just Terry.”
“You’d better wait ’til he mentions it first just in case it wasn’t him.” Her mum took the practical approach.
“I don’t think he’d mind. I told you it’s more of a platonic thing. He’s probably feeling guilty because he didn’t make it to the hospital.”
Her mom examined the box, quirking her lips. “Whoever sent it thinks a lot of you; he didn’t choose the cheap package.”
Vicky winked. “Maybe someone who’s working and couldn’t keep his eyes off you last night.”
“The waiter guy? How would he know where I lived?”
“As if.” Vicky raised air quotes. “‘The waiter guy.’ You know perfectly well his name is James.”