After the music finished, she tried to pull Hugh back to the table, but he refused to go with the stubbornness of a mule and increasingly, the glazed look of one. She waved at Dan, who was, conveniently enough, looking at them. She beckoned him over and he slowly rose and approached. He really did look good in a suit, thought Katie, watching him make his way to them across the dance floor. Especially now he’d loosened his tie. She watched him squeeze in between all the dancers until he finally reached them.
“Aha!” exclaimed Hugh. “Dan the Man!” He slapped him on the back. “Katie and I were having an intermintent moment.”
“Is that what it was,” said Dan.
Katie explained the situation as simply as she could. Hugh needed to get to bed. (On this Hugh gave Dan a big, slow wink.) But she couldn’t get him there on her own. (Hugh shook his head and frowned.) If Dan could help her get him upstairs, she would open the door to their suite, they could get him on the sofa and then come back down again. “Just as long as no one looks at us,” Hugh confided in Dan. “We don’t want anyone seeing.” It was agreed. Dan put his arm underneath Hugh’s and gripped him firmly at the waist while Hugh placed his arm round Dan’s shoulder and Katie ran to get her purse. Hugh looked at Dan. Dan looked at Hugh. Hugh smiled at Dan. Dan smiled at Hugh.
“She’s very very special,” said Hugh.
“I know.”
“Very very very special.”
Katie arrived. “Right, let’s go.”
“I was just telling Danny boy…” started Hugh, before launching into “Oh Danny Boy” which, all things considered, he sang rather well. By the time they got him out of the ballroom, across the main reception, up the grand oak staircase and to the bottom of the narrower winding stairway, they were worn out.
“Wait a minute,” said Dan, hefting Hugh into a sitting position on the bottom step. “Let’s just rest here.”
They collapsed in a small heap, Dan and Katie either side of Hugh. Hugh sprawled up the stairs. “Ooh,” he said. “This is nice.”
Katie and Dan looked at each other over his prostrate body and smiled. When he started to snore, Katie started to giggle, but not Dan.
“We’d better get him going again,” he said, getting up. “Otherwise we’ll be stuck here all night.”
They pulled him up and he put his arms round them both.
“Hello,” he smiled. “Is it morning?”
They finally reached the door to the suite and Dan leaned him against the wall while Katie found her key and opened it. She pointed where the sofa was, but Hugh launched himself on to the bed.
“No no,” she said, rushing over to him and shaking him.
“He’s supposed to be on the sofa,” she told Dan. But Hugh was out cold.
“He’s not going anywhere,” said Dan. “Looks like he’s in the bed.”
They sat down on either side of Hugh, who started a slow, rhythmic, almost melodious snore. It was only fair, thought Katie, as she watched him. He had paid for the suite. She’d go on the sofa, it looked comfortable enough.
“Yes,” she said quietly. “I think you’re right.”
“I’ll leave you to it then,” said Dan and was gone. She stared down at Hugh in frustration and to her surprise he slowly opened an eye. Then, to her astonishment, he opened the other one. And then he gave her a broad grin.
“Ding dong,” he said.
Chapter 21
“WHAT ARE YOU DOING?”
“Nothing!”
“Then stop moving your hand.”
“I’m not moving my hand. Look!”
“The other one.”
“Just relax.”
“Hugh, this is not Porky’s, and I am not fourteen. Let me go.”
“Shhh.”
“Let me go or I will knee you so hard your doodads will give you an overbite.”
“I love you.”
“I don’t care.”
“Oh.” That was unexpected.
“It is irrelevant,” she continued. “You are drunk, you are still grieving Maxine—”
“No!” Hugh sat up. “I love you. I’ve always loved you.”
“Don’t be ridiculous.”
“I’m not being ridiculous! I love you.”
“I don’t care.”
“You must believe me.”
“No, Hugh, you’re not listening to me. I don’t want to get into a debate about this because that will validate it.”
“What?”
“And anyway, I will win. Get some rest and—”
“Promise me one thing!”
“No.”
“You owe me.”
Katie gasped. “I owe you nothing, Hugh Penrose,” she whispered hoarsely. “Just because I ended a relationship that was no longer right for me. You have absolutely no moral—”
“Oh shut up, I meant because I drove you up here and let you stay in the suite.”
“Oh. Right.”
“Sleep with me.”
She gasped again. “You—”
“I mean,” he rushed. “I mean sleep—in the same bed. I’m so lonely.”
“I’m beginning to see why,” she said. “You’re not to be trusted.”
Hugh fell back on to the bed and sighed melodramatically. “Katie, Katie, Katie, Katie.”
She looked at him. “What, what, what, what?”
He gave another sigh. “Just Katie, Katie, Katie, Katie.”
She whispered a curse and stood, but Hugh pulled her back down again. She fell back on to the bed just as he was sitting up. He gave her a hazy kiss on her cheek and nuzzled into her neck. Gently yet firmly Katie pushed him back so he was lying down.
“I’m going now, Hugh,” she told him.
“Let me just say one thing.”
“No.”
“Yes.”
She got up. “No.”
“Yes.”
She reached the door and, feeling relatively safe from there, decided it was the least she could do. “All right then, go on, what is it?”
There was silence for a moment and then, from deep within Hugh’s very essence, came a deep, rich, polysyllabic belch.
It was a long way back to the ballroom. All down the corridor to the stairs, Katie swished her long ball skirt, musing on what a bitch Maxine was and what a poor sap Hugh was for ever having got involved with her. As she tripped lightly down the winding staircase, she relived the venomous exchange of insults at the table, especially Maxine’s horribly off-target accusation that she was some sort of tease. As she walked past the now dark reception, she relived Dan’s comment “awkward all round,” at being told Hugh had an ex-girlfriend. She reflected suddenly that maybe he too thought she was here “with” Hugh. As she stepped across the now silent room where the wedding had taken place only a few hours ago, she wondered had she, unconsciously or otherwise, been playing Hugh and Dan off against each other? And in fact, had she been doing this all her life? She slowed down as she approached the ballroom. Was that why she had a (hmm, what was the collective noun for ex-boyfriends? A “waste?”)…a lot of ex-boyfriends and yet was unable to form a viable long-term relationship? Was that why she couldn’t see through even one date with the first man she’d actually liked?
She stood at the ballroom door for a while before opening it. Maybe she’d just say goodnight to Sandy and go back up to bed. For some reason, she didn’t want to face Dan. Then a young couple pushed the door from the other side and, smiling at her, held it open. She stood in the doorway for a while watching the drunken revellers, almost unrecognizable from the stilted guests of this afternoon. She stared straight ahead, scared of scanning the room and finding Dan. She shouldn’t have come back downstairs. She should have just made herself comfortable on the sofa up in the suite.
Just then Sandy spotted her, waved as if she’d just come off a transatlantic flight and rushed to her. They hugged—Sandy was a bride!—and Sandy pulled her on to the dance floor where, Katie would later insist to Sukie, she had no other optio
n but to do the Birdie Song with her old friend on her wedding day.
It was a moment to cherish. The other guests decided now was the perfect time to form a circle round the bride and camcorders were set to “on.” Katie saw no other option, she would later insist to Sukie, than to really go for it. So go for it she did. It was a miracle she didn’t burst out of her corset. She felt being forced to do an encore was a tad unfair, but she only had herself to blame.
After it was over, she made her way, somewhat unsteadily, off the floor. She had done her bit. No one could accuse her of being a spoilsport. A tease, maybe, a spoilsport no. As she collected her shawl, she saw Dan sitting in the chair next to it, eyes on her.
“You’ve been practicing, haven’t you?”
She held her breath. “No. I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Yes you have,” he continued. “In the mirror. Birdie Song all week.”
When he allowed her the tiniest leeway into a smile by raising his eyebrows, she almost laughed with relief. He pulled out the chair next to him and indicated a bottle of wine.
“I’ve been keeping it warm,” he said, pouring her a glass.
“Shame you didn’t get to me before Sandy did.”
“Hah! Wouldn’t have missed that for the world.”
She took a gulp of wine.
“Luckily,” he picked up an instant camera, “I’ve got a memento for the café.”
She stared at the camera. “Oh, you’re kidding.”
He gave her that grin again, crease included for free. “Nope,” he said. “In fact, I finished the film.”
She tried to reach the camera, but he held it too high for her. She didn’t want to land on top of him (much) so she gave in and sat back down on her chair, having to make do with giving him her best “I dare you” look.
“Ooh,” he said. “Nasty. Are you trying to play me along, just like Maxine was saying?”
Her face must have given her away because he fell over himself to convince her that he had been joking. She was suddenly tired and cold. When she shuddered, Dan wrapped his jacket over her shoulders.
“I am not ‘with’ Hugh,” she said quietly and firmly, her eyes fixed on the floor.
He gave her a slight smile. “Yet,” he said lightly.
“Oh for goodness sake, credit me with some brain.”
“So, just out of interest,” he replied, “and not that it’s any of my business…” He paused. “Why the twenty-four seven flirting?”
She questioned his description of her behavior—and allowed that instead of flirting, she had merely not put a stop to Hugh flirting with her, although not for want of trying.
“It’s hard to slap a friend down when you know they’re feeling desperate already.” She received a questioning look. “People always judge the woman in these things. It’s not the woman’s fault if a man uses her.” She sensed she was losing him. “Look, if the tables were turned and a depressed, vulnerable woman was using a man to help her feel better because her ex—whom she still loved and who was with their new girlfriend—was watching, would you blame the woman or the man?”
“I don’t know,” frowned Dan.
“Of course you don’t. Because you’re a chauvinist.”
“No. Because I’m drunk.”
“Anyway,” she said. “I’d do anything to help Hugh.”
“Why?”
She shrugged. “He’s an ex.”
“So? I don’t talk to any of my exes.”
She didn’t want to know. “Maybe I’m just nicer than you.”
“Sounds a bit extreme to me.”
She thought about it. After finishing her wine and refilling her glass.
“Because,” she realized, “I suppose I feel guilty.”
“Guilty?”
“Yes.”
“What of?”
“Of finishing with him at college.”
“Why? Did you do it nastily?”
“Not particularly. Maybe a bit suddenly.”
“Worse things have happened at sea. Did you two-time him?”
“No.”
“Three-time him?”
“No.”
“Four-time him?”
“No!”
“Then why do you feel guilty?”
“Because,” she said slowly, “he started talking marriage and instead of gently letting him down, I got scared and buggered off.”
“What? Before dessert?”
“No—but before the night was out.”
Dan sucked in some breath. After finishing his wine and refilling his glass.
“In fact,” Katie was thinking aloud now, “I did it so suddenly that, on the rebound, he ended up with someone we both used to take the piss out of.”
“What? Maxine?”
“Yeah. God, she was one of our favorite in-jokes.”
“Aha!” said Dan slyly. “So you’re jealous! This is your revenge!”
“What?”
“Oh come on. A tiny bit of you must have been surprised at his choice. How long have they been together?”
“Ever since.”
He sucked in a lot of breath. “So—let me get this right—you went out with him for ten months—”
“How did you know th—”
“He said earlier—and then as soon as you finished with him, instead of him falling into a pit of despair or begging for you back—he found love in the arms of your once-shared joke. Ouch. Nasty. Who then,” he continued, “rejects him—so what the hell does that say about you?”
She swallowed. “It says that Maxine and I don’t fancy each other,” she managed before turning away. She started to collect her things, hoping he wouldn’t see her eyes.
He leaned forward.
“Sorry.” He put his hand on her purse. “Just getting back some revenge of my own for being abandoned during the worst date of my life and then being blamed for it by the person who abandoned me.”
“I didn’t blame you,” she croaked.
“Well,” said Dan, a smile softening the words, “you certainly didn’t blame yourself.”
She sat back down and sniffed. How much wine was left? She picked up the bottle and poured the last of it into her glass, then drank it down. She looked at Dan. Or rather, both of him. OK, now was her chance to explain everything. That’s what you did at weddings; you got drunk and put the record straight. You laid all your cards on the table. You bared your soul and exposed your innermost feelings. You did the birdie song.
“Listen,” she started.
He leaned in even more. “Oh, this should be good.”
She lowered her head and focused on her hands.
“At college I found it easy to go out with people because there was no need for horrendous dates—things just happened naturally.”
“Mm.”
“I don’t like dates. I mean, I’m not very good at them. I find it hard to be natural in such an unnatural situation.”
“Well,” he said softly, “it’s putting yourself out on a limb.”
“Yes, I suppose so.”
“It’s a gamble.”
“I,” she took a deep breath, “I-I-I liked you. Very much. So much so that I got into a ridiculously nervous state beforehand. Then it was so bad that I found I became completely tongue-tied and the more I didn’t speak the more I couldn’t speak. I almost couldn’t breathe. Then, when you were in the toilet—”
She stopped. She couldn’t possibly tell him that it was Geraldine who had called her, that would look like she was playing them off against each other. She was trying to work out what to say, when she felt him lean over the table. More wine was poured into her glass and, with a shaking hand, she took a gulp.
“Thanks.” She spoke quickly. “Then a friend phoned me and started saying stuff that frightened me.”
“Frightened you?” His voice was quiet. “Stuff about me?”
“It sounds so silly now. It was just stuff about the future. About our projected future
. She—they just pushed the wrong buttons at the wrong time.” She shook her head. “It must sound so ridiculous.”
“No, no. It doesn’t. I think I know what you mean.”
“Well, the long and the short of it is that I completely panicked. I mean I actually had what I now realize was a panic attack. It felt like I was having a heart attack. I just about made it out of the place. I thought I was going to faint. If a taxi hadn’t come by just then, you’d have found me head-on-knees on a bench outside. I just about got back home in one piece. I collapsed on my bed and don’t really remember much else after that.”
“Bloody hell.”
She gave a wry laugh. “Yeah. Attractive, isn’t it?” She drank some more wine. “Now you know why I didn’t want to tell you. Not so much highly strung as out of my tree.”
He gave her a sad, almost concluding, smile.
“Anyway, as you can imagine,” she continued, “I was so ashamed and embarrassed—firstly because I knew it had been a horrendous date because I had been unable to string a sentence together, and then also because I saw you with Geraldine.”
“Which—”
She held up her hand. “Which was totally acceptable—of course it was—she was your friend, and even if she wasn’t, what on earth did you owe me?”
“Mmm.”
“But the point was it shook my nerve so much—either because you were dating her the next night which made me question how serious our date had been, or, at the very least, you’d been talking about me being the worst date of your life. I just couldn’t face phoning you and explaining the truth, which would just make it all even worse. I suppose I decided that I’d rather have you think I was a bitch than a loopy weirdo you should run a mile from.”
The boulder of black granite that had been lodged in the pit of her stomach since their date finally crumbled. She braved looking up at him. Ooh. He was much closer than she’d remembered.
“Sorry,” she said. Or she would have said, if he hadn’t interrupted her by putting his lips exactly where hers were. What she said in fact was “Somph,” but she felt she got her point across.
There was only one kiss on Katie’s Kiss List that had ever been even nearly as good as the one she was having at the moment, and that was, coincidentally, with the same man she was kissing now. As far as she was concerned, this made him the reigning champion. Although perhaps she should insist on best of five. Then, all too suddenly, it stopped. She opened her eyes.
The Waitress Page 28