by Lisa Ireland
For the first time in her life she was going to fight for a man.
She’d cried for an hour after John had left last weekend. Hot angry tears that she didn’t completely understand the source of. Days went by and she didn’t hear from him. She didn’t hear from Libby either, but strangely she found that a relief. Right now John’s absence was enough to deal with without the additional worry of whether her best friend had dumped her as well. She decided to deal with one crisis at a time.
She was shocked to discover John leaving her was a crisis. Last night she’d been sleepless, trying in vain to make sense of her feelings of loss and abandonment. Despite her resolution to take things slowly and not get too involved, somehow he’d become an integral part of her life. Now he was gone and he’d left a gaping hole that she didn’t know how to fill. The grief was raw, not unlike the feelings she’d had in the early days after Jude had passed away.
She tried to imagine a time when she would feel better again, when her life wouldn’t feel so empty.
Maybe there was no filling the hole. Maybe this feeling of loneliness was simply something she’d have to learn to live with. She wasn’t the most important person in anyone’s life, and although the knowledge was painful, there was a certain freedom in that. At least she didn’t have to worry about disappointing anyone. All her family were gone now. She was an orphan, alone in the world, and it was time for her to make her peace with that.
Or maybe make my own family.
With John if he would have her.
He was the first person outside her immediate family to ever utter the word ‘love’ in relation to her – well, at least he was the first to do it unprompted. He’d been upfront about his developing feelings right from the start. She’d been the one to shy away from what he was offering. She’d been afraid.
But now she could see how ridiculous that was. John was offering her a future. He’d given himself to her body and soul and she’d rejected him. Sure, accepting him into her heart came with risks. Maybe he would hurt her, just like most of the other men she’d trusted. But the alternative wasn’t attractive either. She could risk nothing and spend the rest of her life alone. It seemed kind of an immature attitude to take. If her mother were here she’d tell her it was time to start acting like a grown-up.
She slipped her forty-year-old feet into the first really expensive pair of shoes she’d ever owned and booked an Uber.
*
She was forty-five minutes late to the function, so when she entered the foyer it was empty. In one way that was a relief, because in making this grand gesture she’d failed to think through the practicalities of it. What if John had asked someone else to accompany him? Her heart fluttered in her chest at the thought. Or what if her seat had been reallocated? Or worse still, what if he told her to piss off? This was a bloody stupid idea. She’d spent a fortune getting herself all glammed up to potentially suffer the biggest public humiliation of her life. What was the point of this anyway? Why couldn’t she just call John and tell him she wanted to talk?
Because she’d hurt him, that was why. He’d taken a risk and she’d rejected him. It was going to need more than a phone call to redeem herself. She had to show him she was willing to take a risk too. If that meant sacrificing her pride and making a fool of herself in front of all these people, so be it.
She moved towards the doorway of the main room and stood there surveying the scene. She had to admit Libby’s mob had done a pretty good job of making this suburban function room look like it was a swanky ballroom. And they’d managed to attract a decent sort of a crowd. She estimated there were at least two hundred people seated at the ornately decorated tables that filled the room. She was glad she’d gone to the trouble of frocking up. Her red gown was not at all out of place here. Floor-length frocks – no doubt made by well-known designers – were the order of the day for women, and the men were equally impressive in their well-cut suits.
Somewhere among those suit wearers was the man she wanted, although finding him might be a challenge. From this vantage point they all looked the same. Right now the room was hushed, the crowd listening to the MC drone on about the evening’s proceedings. Hopefully when she finished there’d be a break and a bit of movement, because grand gesture or not, she wasn’t up for having the whole room watch her as she wandered the floor searching for John. She looked around to see if there was a list anywhere and sure enough found the clipboard on the table near the board. She flicked through it until she found John’s name. He was still listed as bringing a guest. Her pulse ratcheted up yet another notch. Had he really replaced her so quickly?
She had the table number, and after a short round of applause the crowd had begun to chatter. It was now or never. Bloody hell, she’d bought the frock. It was made to create a scene. She sucked in a deep breath and made her way into the ballroom.
The school had been allocated one of the VIP tables close to the stage, which meant she had to walk the length of the room to reach it, and with each step her confidence faltered. This wasn’t a rom-com. She wasn’t in a movie that necessitated a happy ending. She really had no idea how John would react to her unanticipated presence. She took steadying breaths and told herself he was unlikely to tell her to piss off in front of his colleagues. He’d be polite and wouldn’t cause a scene, so there was nothing to worry about. But she was worried. She was shitting herself. And that was because she didn’t want him to be polite. She wanted him to tell her again that he was in love with her, that he couldn’t live without her. Yes, she’d been let down in love before, but the fluttery feeling in her stomach as she strode the length of the ballroom told her that the risk was worth it. She wasn’t being driven by fear of loneliness. Fuck, this was the real thing. She was head over heels in love with a bloke who was the most unlikely of contenders.
When she reached the table he was facing away from her. She stopped just behind his right shoulder and braced herself for his reaction as the crinkle-faced woman opposite him looked up at her and smiled. She touched his shoulder lightly and he turned to look at her. The polite smile – his professional face – was replaced by a look of utter confusion. ‘Kit . . . What are you doing here?’
It wasn’t quite the reaction she’d hoped for. ‘I’m sorry I’m late to the party. I hope you can forgive me. It took me a while to work out how to get here, but I’m here now.’ Kit’s heart was pounding, her mouth suddenly parched as she took in John’s expression.
He didn’t speak for what seemed like an eternity, and when he did his voice was measured. ‘Well, I’m very pleased you could make it after all.’ He stood and pulled out the empty chair beside him. ‘Please, have a seat.’
Her legs were shaking and sitting down was probably a good idea, but the thought of making polite conversation with these banal people while her insides were churning was more than she could bear. ‘Actually, John, I could use a drink. I might make my way over to the bar.’ She hoped he’d get the hint and offer to accompany her.
‘I’m sure a waiter will be by any moment. The service has been top notch so far.’
She met his eyes. ‘Even so, I think I’d rather go to the bar and see what’s on offer for myself. Perhaps you’d care to join me.’
There was a beat before he answered. ‘Of course.’
Neither of them spoke again until she had a glass of pinot gris in her hand. John told the barman he was fine. Apparently he wasn’t drinking, or at least not with her. She took a large gulp of wine. ‘Is there somewhere we can talk?’
He sighed. ‘Kit, I don’t really want to do this. Especially not here. You made yourself clear the other night. You’re not up for a commitment. I respect your honesty.’
The barman turned his back but Kit wasn’t fooled. She knew their conversation was still audible to him and God only knew who else. ‘Please. I have things I need to say.’
‘Look, I appreciate you coming here
. It was a nice gesture, but we both know it doesn’t really mean anything. I’m not angry, Kit, really I’m not. In truth I always knew what this was to you. I just got caught up in it and I hoped for more. But please don’t make things worse by trying to let me down gently. A man has his pride.’
‘Fuck. I was hoping to do this privately, but seeing as you are not keen on that I’ll say it right here. I love you. Okay? If this isn’t public enough I’ll jump up on the stage and make an announcement. I’m sorry I couldn’t tell you this last week, but I was scared. I’m still scared, but I’m more scared of letting you go. You drive me crazy with all your OCD dishwashing and clothes folding and lists and routines, but even so, I miss you when you’re not around. My bed feels empty without you and the thought of you never being in it again hurts like I never imagined. I have no idea how this will ever work but I want to give it a go. A proper one. You know, you, me, Hugo and that bloody mutt of yours all in the same house. I love you, okay?’ Her cheeks burned and she realised her voice had risen somewhat and the people at the nearby tables had turned to look. But she didn’t care. All she cared about was the man standing right in front of her who, it had to be said, was looking kind of embarrassed.
Fuck. She’d totally screwed this up. What sort of idiot thought it was a good idea to yell at someone in public to convince them of their love? No wonder he was speechless. She shook her head. ‘I’m sorry. This was a mistake.’ She turned to walk away but he grabbed her by the hand.
‘Kit, stop.’ And he pulled her to him and planted his mouth on hers.
Just this once she let her aversion to public displays of affection slide and she kissed him back.
Chapter 30
As Georgina took the stage to make her welcome speech, Libby slipped into the kitchen, in the hope of grabbing a few moments alone with Felicity. Maybe Libby had misinterpreted the look on her face during their earlier conversation, but for some reason it was niggling her. She felt like Felicity had wanted to say something and then thought better of it. She found her sipping a glass of champagne as she supervised the plating up of the entrees. ‘Hey, Felicity, have you got a minute?’
Felicity looked up. ‘Of course. What’s the problem?’
Libby shook her head. ‘Can we speak privately?’
Felicity scanned the plates already done and nodded. ‘Okay.’ She looked at one of the kitchen crew. ‘Jenny, I need you to make sure every plate going out looks like these.’ She pointed to a garnished bowl of pumpkin soup and a dish of salmon carpaccio. ‘And plates need to start going out to the VIP tables right now.’ She turned back to Libby. ‘Let’s step outside for a moment. I could use some fresh air.’ She took off towards the external doors at the back of the kitchen, which led outside to the delivery area, and Libby followed. ‘So what’s the drama? VIPs doing party drugs in the toilets?’
Libby shook her head. ‘No, nothing like that. I’m still worried about Alli and, well, I thought maybe you were too.’
Felicity shrugged. ‘I’m sorry her dog died. It’s terrible, but I’m sure Alli will be fine.’
‘It’s just that when Georgina told us earlier you looked pretty shaken up, and it seemed to me you were going to say something and then thought better of it. If there’s something you want to say, you can trust me. I won’t say anything to Georgina, if that’s what you’re worried about.’
Felicity’s shoulders sagged and she took a sip of her drink. ‘Look, it’s probably nothing.’
‘What? Come on, you can tell me.’
‘I drove Alli home today. She came with me this morning to pick up the VIP gifts. She wanted to make sure everything was in order before we paid. We went to Highpoint and collected the gifts and then came back here to place them on the tables. We both had last-minute jobs to attend to and it ended up taking more time than we thought it would. We grabbed a snack here in the café and then I drove Alli home around three thirty because she had a stylist coming to the house at four to do her hair.’
Felicity paused and took another sip. ‘She was actually using my stylist, Annika, because Annika was happy to come to us. Alli didn’t want to have to waste time driving to and from her usual place in Altona when she had so much to do today. Anyway, when I dropped Alli off the garage door was open and I noticed Greg’s BMW was parked there. I remarked to Alli that he was home early. Alli seemed a bit put out by him being there. She said she’d asked him to be home early so they wouldn’t be late for this evening, but she hadn’t expected him home this early.’
‘I can understand her surprise. He seems to work such long hours. I think she spends a lot of time on her own.’
‘Yes. No wonder she loved that little dog so much. Anyway, I dropped her home and then went back to my place to wash my hair in time for my appointment with Annika.’
‘Your hair looks amazing, by the way.’
Felicity’s expression softened for a moment. ‘Thank you. That’s very kind of you to say.’ She paused briefly and then her brow creased with tension once more. ‘I was worried Annika might spend too long with Alli and that she’d have to rush my style, but as it turned out she arrived at my place much earlier than expected. Oh God, Libby, I feel traitorous telling you this, especially when it probably means nothing.’
‘It’s okay. Honestly, whatever it is, you can tell me.’
‘Annika was early because she never did Alli’s hair.’
‘Why? What happened?’
‘She said when she went to the front door she rang the bell but no one answered.’
‘That’s weird, but maybe that’s when something happened to Muffin. Perhaps Alli and Greg had rushed off to the vet.’
‘No, I don’t think so. Annika said when no one answered she went back to the car to grab her appointment book, just to check she had the right address and hadn’t mucked up the appointment time. After she double-checked she went back to the front door to try the doorbell again. This time she heard a whole lot of yelling. She said she could hear a man and a woman shouting obscenities at each other.’
Libby shook her head. ‘No. That can’t be right, can it? Greg’s so calm, and he adores Alli.’
Felicity shrugged. ‘All married couples fight, don’t they? I know Jeremy and I do. Surely you’re not telling me you and Cameron never exchange words?’
Libby could hardly say no after the debacle at her birthday party. More than one person had witnessed Cam telling her to pull her head in over the incident with Kit. ‘Of course we do, but I just can’t imagine Greg and Alli screaming at each other.’ The look on Felicity’s face told her she wasn’t finding it hard to imagine at all. Libby’s stomach clenched as a hazy memory of her drunken conversation with Kit drifted into her mind. Kit hadn’t said anything about Greg, but she had said that she wasn’t the one who’d upset Alli, that Alli had problems of her own. At the time Libby had thought she was simply trying to duck responsibility for her actions, but maybe Kit had been telling the truth after all. ‘What are you trying to say, Felicity?’
‘Well, I didn’t think anything much of it at the time. As I said, couples fight, and I’ve been away with Greg and Alli too many times to think they’re an exception to the rule – hotel walls are often quite thin, you know. So when Annika told me there was a fight going on, and that she’d even heard the dog yelping like it was being murdered, I didn’t really pay too much attention.’
‘What are you saying?’
‘I don’t know really. It’s just that when Georgina said the dog had died, the thought flashed through my mind that I wouldn’t be surprised if Greg had something to do with that.’
Libby’s heart was pounding. How could Felicity even think such a thing? ‘Surely not? I mean, I know he wasn’t overly fond of the dog, but still, it seems a bit of a stretch to imagine he would deliberately hurt it. Even if they were fighting I can’t imagine Greg doing something like that. He loves Alli so much, he wou
ld never do anything to upset her that way.’
Felicity nodded. ‘You’re probably right. It’s probably just a coincidence. It’s just Annika’s word choice really stuck in my mind, you know?’
Libby nodded, but now she was the one having doubts. ‘Did you call Alli after Annika got to your place, to check that she was all right?’
‘I tried but she didn’t pick up, so I sent a text asking if she was okay and if she’d forgotten about her hair appointment. She replied saying she was fine and that she’d taken a nap and accidentally overslept. Of course I knew that wasn’t true, because of Annika’s story, but I wasn’t going to embarrass her by saying so. I asked her if she wanted me to send Annika around after she’d finished my hair but she said not to worry, that she’d done her hair herself and that it was fine. I never thought another thing of it until she failed to turn up here on time. Then when Greg said the dog was dead . . . I don’t know, Libby, I just got this kind of sick feeling.’
Libby’s heart seemed to miss a beat. Something was definitely amiss. She grabbed her phone out of her evening bag. ‘I think we should call her and check on her.’
Felicity’s eyes widened. ‘You don’t think Greg . . . I mean, he wouldn’t hurt her, would he?’
Libby pressed the phone to her ear. ‘I don’t know what to think.’ The call went straight to voicemail. ‘I think her phone’s off. I’m really starting to be worried about her now.’
‘What should we do?’
‘I honestly don’t know. Maybe we should go to the house to check on her. But if she’s not answering the phone, she might not answer the door either. And if she’s hurt . . . I don’t know. Maybe we should call the police?’