Mr Right for the Night

by Marisa Mackle

  But they weren’t going to Victoria’s party. No, you’d have to be an eejit to go to that. They came to have fun in Temple Bar and stagger the streets at 2 a.m. singing Ole, Ole, Ole.

  How things had changed. Years ago, the only tourists you’d see would be a few Americans dressed from head to toe in green for fear of standing out. Anna had thought they were all extremely rich. People, you know, who’d left a depressed Ireland by boat and had made a fortune over in places like Boston and New York. She’d always thought they were mad to come back to visit Ireland where it rained all the time and was as boring as hell.

  A glance at her watch stopped Anna from daydreaming further. It was past five. In three hours she’d be at the party. Oh God, oh God, oh God!

  Back in her bedroom Anna squeezed her size twelve figure into her clingy black dress, sucked in her tummy, turned sideways and took a long hard look at herself in the full-length mirror. Oh God, would she pass? Would people recognize Anna Allstone? Or would they simply take pity on her, still single after all these years? Poor old Anna. Imagine! She actually fancied her chances with Mark Landon. As if.

  She sat down on the bed and cradled her head in her hands. She couldn’t go through with this, she couldn’t. Anna was the worst actress in the world. She couldn’t possibly pull this off without a hitch. What was she going to do?

  She didn’t have to go, of course. It wasn’t as if someone was holding a gun to her head. She was a free agent.

  It wouldn’t matter if she didn’t turn up. She was a nonentity. Nobody would care if Anna Allstone didn’t show her face.

  Stay at home if you want to, she told herself. Go to bed. Go to bed and then tomorrow you can wake up and it will all be over.

  She could tell Claire she’d got food poisoning. Food poisoning! Yeah, right. As if Claire would fall for that. Cop on, Anna. You’re a successful career woman with the whole world at your feet. Grow up and act your thirty years.

  She needed help. Some Dutch courage. A brandy would help her nerves, wouldn’t it? Just a tiny brandy. It couldn’t hurt.

  Right, where was she going to get it? Booting round to the off licence was out of the question.

  Surely there was some stacked away in her parents’ sideboard?

  She sneaked downstairs, feeling sixteen again. She stopped by the sideboard, praying to God her old man wouldn’t pounce from the kitchen demanding an explanation. She gently eased open the little mahogany door. It creaked loudly. God, it probably hadn’t been opened since last Christmas.

  An unopened bottle of vodka stood by the half bottle of brandy. Did Anna imagine it, or was the vodka just screaming to be opened?

  Suddenly, she grabbed it and tiptoed back up the stairs, her heart beating a little faster than normal. She felt like a naughty child who’d just nicked the Christmas tin of Quality Street. She sat back down on the bed and studied the unopened bottle. She had to get a mixer. She was nervous, but not that nervous. The vodka couldn’t be drunk straight.

  ‘Oh, Anna, you look as pretty as a picture,’ Mrs Allstone gushed as her daughter tottered into the kitchen in four-inch shoes. ‘Doesn’t she, James?’

  Her father looked at her. ‘She could do with a little less muck on her face.’

  ‘Thanks, Dad,’ Anna sighed. Jesus, some things never changed.

  ‘The frock is a bit short,’ Grandad grumbled.

  ‘Could everybody please give me a break?’ Anna wailed. ‘I only came down to get myself some coke. I’m parched with the thirst.’

  ‘There’s coke in the fridge, dear,’ said Anna’s mother. ‘Get yourself a glass.’

  ‘I think I’ll take the bottle up with me,’ Anna avoided her eye, ‘I really am very thirsty.’

  Back once more in the privacy of her own room, Anna poured herself a generous measure of vodka and coloured it with a drop of coke. What was she like? Eh? Drinking vodka all by herself at seven o’clock in the evening. Jesus, it was still bright outside.

  She took a sip. It burned her throat, nearly killing her. And then another one. Ah, that was better. She took another peep in the mirror. Maybe she didn’t look so bad after all. Her hair had a because I’m worth it shine and the sunbed had given her cheeks a healthy just-back-from-the-sun glow.

  The dress had cost a small fortune. Anna had nothing to be ashamed of. She was up there with the best of them. She took another gulp of vodka. In fact she looked quite pretty. Even her mother had said so. Her mother didn’t throw compliments out easily. What had she said again? As pretty as a picture. Well, that depended on what picture you were looking at really. As long as it wasn’t a picture of a pig’s arse, Anna chuckled and drank some more vodka. Jesus, this was hot stuff.

  She drank some more. Where had her parents got this stuff from anyway? It must have been a Christmas present. God, what a waste. Well, it wasn’t going to waste now, that was sure. Anna was thoroughly enjoying it. ‘Cheers’ she told her reflection. The reflection smiled back at her. She looked pretty fab, although she said it herself. Pretty fab indeed. Victoria Reddin, eat your heart out!

  A knock on the door startled her. Panicked, she ran to her wardrobe and put the half-full bottle at the bottom of it. Half-full! Jesus, had she really drunk that much?

  ‘Who is it?’ she called.

  ‘It’s Dad. Do you want a lift to this place or what?’

  ‘Oh thanks, Dad, that’d be great.’

  She sat in the passenger seat of her father’s car aware that her dress was riding up along her thighs. She placed her coat on her lap to avoid any comment.

  God, it was still bright. Anna caught a glimpse of herself in the side mirror. Was it her imagination or did her make-up look like it had been caked on with a shovel?

  Mr Allstone drove from Stillorgan to Blackrock at like ten miles per hour. Anytime tonight, Dad please, Anna thought as she crossed her legs tightly underneath her coat. Why hadn’t she gone to the toilet before she left the house? Ha! She could just imagine her introduction. ‘Hi, everybody, where’s the loo?’

  Sophisticated or what? But who cared? Anna didn’t any more. It was just a stupid reunion thingy. Full of silly twits she went to school with. Who cared about them? They had the problem, not her. Anna Allstone was a big success with a hugely important job in London. She was single out of choice. Any fool could get a man. The world was crawling with them. Why should Anna settle for second best? Why? She was too fussy, that’s what she was. Anna was one fussy babe.

  ‘Do you think this could be it?’ Mr Allstone turned the corner into Cherrylog Avenue.

  ‘Well, judging by all the Beamers and Mercs it must be,’ Anna muttered. ‘Let me out here, Daddy. No seriously, you don’t have to park right outside the front door. Thanks, Daddy. Goodnight, bye.’

  Anna walked unsteadily along the tree-lined gravel drive, staring ahead. A uniformed man was directing the cars into parking spaces. Who was that, Anna wondered. The house was more like a hotel. Anna wondered what it had cost. Easily a million. Probably more like two. A majestic stone mansion with Georgian windows, flanked by a hard tennis court on one side, an indoor swimming pool surrounded by glass walls on the other. Wow! The Reddins must be millionaires several times over. Anna suddenly didn’t feel as brave any more. All this was very intimidating.

  She mounted the stone steps and took a deep breath. She hoped she wasn’t the first to arrive. Please let Claire and Simon be there already, she silently begged. Oh please don’t leave me in there all on my own.

  She rang the long brass doorbell nervously. The huge wooden doors opened slowly. A haughty-looking middle-aged man in coat tails gave a formal little bow. Ah Jesus, this was a bit over the top. It was supposed to be a school reunion for crying out loud.

  ‘Good evening, madam,’ he said tonelessly. ‘And you are?’

  ‘Anna Allstone,’ she replied, wondering who the hell he thought she was. The hired help? With a red pen he struck her name meticulously off a long list.

  ‘Welcome,’ he said. ‘May I t
ake your coat?’

  God, this was all very serious, she thought. She handed over her coat before being assaulted by a tray of champagne glasses. Christ, she needed one of those. Badly.

  ‘Thank you.’ She took a glass from the young girl dressed in a crisp white blouse and tight black skirt.

  ‘Er, where is everybody?’

  ‘The rest of the guests are in the drawing room,’ the girl spoke in a hushed voice.

  ‘And where’s the bathroom?’ Anna whispered back as if it might be a crime to raise one’s voice.

  ‘Up the stairs and to the right.’

  Anna mounted the sweeping stairs uneasily. She was hating this already. The atmosphere in this big old grand house seemed fraught with tension. She wanted to leave. Would anybody notice if she slipped back out again? Imagine wanting to escape and the evening hadn’t even begun! There was still time to go, she thought. Nothing was stopping her from turning on her heels and walking straight back out again. But no, she was here now, determined to see this bloody night through if it killed her.

  The bathroom was as big as the apartment back in Galway. The carpet easily swallowed her four-inch heels. She sat on the toilet, aware that her head was spinning. Was it the vodka? Maybe she should stay away from the champagne.

  ‘Is there anyone in there?’ Somebody was rapping lightly on the door.

  ‘Just a minute,’ she called.

  She flushed the toilet and steadied herself before opening the door.

  ‘Anna Allstone, well there’s a blast from the past.’

  Anna stood face to face with Carole Levine, a girl who’d very much aided Victoria in making everybody’s schooldays hell. Carole had put on weight, Anna noticed gleefully. And too many holidays in the sun hadn’t been kind to her skin either. She wore a loose white viscose dress that looked like it might fall off at any minute.

  ‘Carole, gosh you’ve changed.’ Anna’s eyes widened exaggeratedly. For the worse.

  ‘Is that good or bad?’

  The look on Anna’s face said it all. ‘Good of course,’ she mumbled unconvincingly.

  ‘Anyway, how are you?’ Carole went on. ‘Isn’t this just fabulous? The house is divine, isn’t it? And Victoria looks amazing, as usual. She’s dying to meet you and your partner. Your partner is here, isn’t he?’

  ‘Well no,’ Anna began, ‘I––’

  ‘Oh, he’s away on business or something, is he? I hate when Aidan has to go away, which is quite often, you know. His job is really important. But don’t worry about it. You’re here with old friends. We’ll look after you.’ Carole patted her arm condescendingly.

  Anna’s jaw began to relax, then reclenched at the possibility of another morale-hammering question. Luckily Carole couldn’t be bothered asking anything else. She disappeared into the toilet, leaving Anna alone at the his ’n’ hers sinks. She ran her hands slowly under the hot tap, then wiped them carefully on a soft pink fluffy towel. Picking up her half-empty champagne glass, she exited the bathroom.

  Claire bumped into her halfway down the stairs looking dazzling in a figure-hugging silver number.

  ‘Thank God you’re here.’ Anna gave her best friend a hug. ‘You look sensational.’

  ‘You won’t believe what I’ve done.’ Claire wriggled from her embrace. ‘I’ve had the cheek to turn up in the exact same dress as the hostess. She’s livid.’

  ‘Is she really?’ Anna could barely conceal her pleasure. ‘Oh, I’m sorry I wasn’t there when she saw you.’

  ‘If looks could kill, I’d be lying at the bottom of these magnificent stairs, dead as a duck,’ Claire laughed.

  ‘Where is she now?’

  ‘Oh she’s downstairs flitting about, chatting to all the important people.’

  ‘Come on.’ Anna linked her arm. ‘Let’s go and face the music.’

  They walked along a long oriental rug leading to the drawing room. The high-ceilinged room was full of men in soft, dark, monkey suits and polished leather shoes, vaguely familiar women in expensive designer dresses and heavy gold jewellery. The type of people who wouldn’t miss the opening of a door. People who were never really happy because they were afraid everyone else was somewhere else. A photographer’s bulb flashed wildly. Anna let one of the caterers refill her champagne glass. Who were all these people? What kind of a reunion was this?

  This wasn’t a school get-together at all. Victoria had a nerve to invite her classmates along under the pretence of a reunion. Oh well, Anna thought. What did it matter? Sure, it was probably just as well. Now she wouldn’t stand out at all. She could just mingle in with the crowd like everybody else. Sure, now she was here, why not enjoy herself ? Anna’s eyes roamed the room and spotted Simon in the distance, standing upright, his shoulders back, confidence radiating from him. He looked great, Anna thought. Claire was lucky to have him. He was engrossed in conversation with a small tubby man chewing on a fat cigar. The man was bald except for two tufts around both ears and he sported a decidedly unpleasant sneer.

  ‘Who’s that Simon’s talking to, Claire? Don’t look now, they’re over there.’

  Claire swung around. Could she be more obvious?

  ‘Oh that’s Aidan Levine, Carole’s husband.’

  ‘I don’t believe it.’ Anna was gobsmacked. ‘I met her earlier on and she’d the cheek to commiserate with me on my being single.’

  ‘Take no notice,’ Claire laughed. ‘This whole party stinks of bull. No one seems to be having any fun. The whole thing seems to be . . . I dunno . . . staged or something.’

  ‘Cheers.’ Anna raised her glass and clinked it with

  Claire’s. ‘To a most memorable night.’

  ‘Count me in on that toast,’ a small voice cut in.

  ‘Alice, you’ve arrived!’ Anna gave her a hug. ‘You look super.’

  ‘Do I?’ Alice asked nervously. ‘I almost didn’t come, you know.’

  ‘Have you met Victoria yet?’ Claire was curious.

  ‘She just walked past me,’ Alice whispered. ‘I don’t think she had a clue who I was.’

  ‘Oh, she’s probably just up to high-do. It’s very stressful hosting a big reunion party like this,’ Claire said kindly, careful not to hurt Alice’s feelings.

  ‘Look, there’s Olive over there!’

  Olive, sitting on one of Victoria’s antique chairs next to her rather conservative-looking husband, waved excitedly at the trio. A far cry from the old days, when she’d have been afraid of acknowledging them for fear of ruffling Victoria’s feathers, Anna thought. It was funny really, she chuckled to herself, all the time she had wasted worrying about this silly party. How ridiculous. She was glad she hadn’t brought anybody. It wasn’t the type of party you dragged an unwilling escort along to. Now she was free to flutter around like a social butterfly without some man hanging on to her like a ball and chain for the night. She could get hammered if she wanted and nobody would notice. All that worrying for absolutely nothing!

  Come to think of it, she was already well on her way to being hammered. Now on her third glass of champagne, she could almost feel the bubbles shooting to her head, dancing with her brain cells. She’d need to be careful. Victoria’s bathroom was not the kind of place you’d like to vomit in.

  She excused herself and made her way to the magnificent buffet spread. Every taste was catered for. God, she didn’t know where to start.

  ‘A bit of everything,’ she instructed the caterer greedily. Well, she did have to eat, didn’t she? There was nothing but alcohol in her stomach right now.

  ‘I knew I’d find you near the food.’

  Anna’s heart sank as she heard a cold familiar voice cut the air.

  ‘Anna Allstone, you haven’t changed a bit.’ Facing her hostess, her plate overflowing with food, suddenly she didn’t feel quite so hungry any more.

  ‘Victoria, I can’t believe you remember me so well.’ Anna gave a rigid smile.

  ‘Well, I admit the name didn’t ring a bell when I first got th
e list of everybody’s names,’ she smirked. ‘But I’d know your face anywhere.’

  ‘How come?’ Anna felt the muscles in her throat constrict with indignation.

  ‘Sure you were sitting beside me in our end-of-year photo. I loved that photo. Mind you people said I looked too thin in it. Anyway, enjoy your food.’ Victoria flashed a set of perfectly capped teeth. ‘There’s plenty of it. Second helpings, third if you like, there’s no limit.’

  ‘Thank you.’ Anna suddenly found she was able to speak. ‘If there’s enough left over I might even put some in a bag, you know, to bring home and keep beside my bed in case I wake up during the night and feel hungry.’

  ‘If you like.’ Victoria looked mildly put out. She wasn’t sure whether Anna was joking or not. Better to make her escape now, and anyway there were far more important people to chit-chat with. She couldn’t see Anna Allstone as somebody who’d be of much use to her in the future. And after all that’s what parties were for: securing future contacts.

  ‘Well, excuse me for now,’ she smiled falsely, ‘I’m sure you’ll have fun. I’m afraid there aren’t too many available men here tonight – Carole told me about your situation – but you should have fun with the girls.’

  ‘I’m sure I will,’ Anna said through gritted teeth, ‘and by the way, in case I don’t talk to you again, I love the dress.’

  ‘Thank you, I got it in––’

  ‘Oh, I know where you got it,’ Anna swiftly interrupted. ‘In that boutique in Ranelagh, wasn’t it? Claire couldn’t believe her luck when she found hers in the bargain bin. Sure, as she said herself, you couldn’t get a pair of jeans these days for fifty quid! Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to tuck into this fabulous food before it all runs out.’

  She strolled off, leaving Victoria clutching the banqueting table, fuming. What was all that about a bargain bin? She’d never go back to that boutique again. How dare that idiot of a saleswoman charge five hundred pounds for the same dress she sold to that cheapskate Claire!

  ‘What on earth did you say to Victoria?’ Claire asked when she came back. ‘She looks livid.’