Carrington's at Christmas

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Carrington's at Christmas Page 25

by Alexandra Brown

‘Phew. Not as fit as I used to be,’ he pants, clutching at his chest. ‘Ladies and Gentlemen, in case you don’t know, this gorgeous girl sitting here is my little princess.’ He bends down and plants a big kiss on Tina’s eager upturned cheek. ‘Isn’t she lovely?’ There’s a dutiful mutter of ‘yes’. ‘Takes after me in the looks department … no offence love,’ he chortles, throwing a mock sorry face down at a woman I presume to be Tina’s mum. ‘Oops, I’m in for it now. Gonna cop a mouthful from the ex-missus,’ he says, running an index finger across his neck. ‘Probably bump up my maintenance payments again. Ker-ching!’

  Furtive glances circuit the room. We’re all wondering where he’s going with this unconventional speech.

  ‘Get on with it,’ shouts a wiry-looking man sitting next to Tina’s mum. Tina treats him to one of her death stares.

  ‘Oops, upset her new fella as well now!’ Tina’s dad takes another deep breath. ‘So, Ciaran, I take it you’re the happiest man alive today … and who can blame you? You’ve just married the best girl in the world.’ Tina beams up at her dad and Ciaran drains his glass again. His face is flushed red and he has a distant look in his eyes. And he keeps scanning the room. He looks so uncomfortable, I feel sorry for him. He nods slowly, and pours himself some more wine. ‘You wanna slow down on the old laughing juice, or you’ll end up like me.’ Tina’s dad pats his ample belly and a roar of laughter erupts from his table. Ciaran looks oblivious as he stares intently into his wine glass. I can’t believe he’s drinking so much. He looks really miserable, but I don’t understand why. I thought this was what he wanted.

  35

  The chocolate mousse was to die for, but having eaten my own, and Melissa’s, after she staggered off in search of more Guinness, I feel well and truly stuffed. James is sitting next to me now.

  ‘I’m impressed. I like a girl with a proper appetite,’ he whispers.

  I’m glad we’re friends again, but I am acutely conscious of Tom sitting right opposite me. I suddenly realise that I definitely don’t want him to get the wrong idea that there is anything more between me and James.

  ‘James, I need to talk to you …’ I swallow, keeping my voice low. But before I can say anything else, Ciaran’s best man calls for silence.

  ‘Thanks guys. I’ll keep it brief, but I’d be failing in my best man duty if I didn’t tell you a bit more about my mate here.’ He grins at Ciaran, who thrusts his glass up in acknowledgement to him, narrowly missing Tina’s dress as his wine sloshes around precariously. Why is he drinking so much? It’s like he’s given up, I just don’t get it. ‘Sorry Tina … but we couldn’t let him get away with it.’ He then grins apologetically at Tina, who manages a tight smile. ‘Right, so moving swiftly on,’ he rubs his hands together, ‘I’ll start by saying how lovely the bride looks.’ Tina’s smile broadens now. ‘As do the bridesmaids.’ There’s a polite clapping session before he continues.

  ‘Well, what can I tell you about Ciaran, other than that he’s a ferocious fly-half and he sure kicks like a mule, and I should know, I’ve got the bruises to prove it.’ We all laugh. ‘And that’s not just from the rugby field – oh no, have you seen this man wrestle? A tiger, I tell you, a tiger he is.’ Ciaran is shaking his head, and his mate is feigning fear as he looks sideways at Ciaran.

  There’s more laughter and Ciaran mutters something to himself. What’s got into him? I wonder if he’s having regrets already.

  ‘And then there are the cars, the faster the better, just like him. Yes, Tina knows what I’m talking about.’ The best man winks at Tina and Ciaran busies himself with his glass before mumbling again under his breath. ‘Yes, I’ll echo what Walter said … our Ciaran is a real man’s ma—’ But before he can carry on, Ciaran is up on his feet now, waving his hands and shaking his head. He grabs the microphone from his mate’s hand.

  ‘Testing. One, two, three.’ He blows into the microphone and then laughs to himself. He’s swaying gently.

  Ciaran motions for his mate to sit down.

  ‘Ladies and Gentlemen. Can I have your attention pleeeease?’ He tugs at his cravat and, after managing to wrestle it free from his neck, he winds it up into a ball and wings it up into the air and out towards the tables. It lands on a chandelier. There’s a collective gasp. I can’t believe he’s this drunk at his own wedding. It’s just not like him.

  Ciaran’s best man quickly makes his way back over to the podium. They exchange a few words before Tina shoos him away. She has the fake smile back in place and is looking up at Ciaran, waiting to bask in the praise that she’s anticipating from his speech.

  ‘I just want to say a few words.’ Tina eagerly looks around the room as if she’s checking to make sure we’re all listening, before looking back at Ciaran.

  ‘This isn’t easy. In fact I’ve been dreading this moment for months.’ He pauses, and takes a swig of his drink.

  ‘That’s nerves lad, nothing to be ashamed of,’ Tina’s dad bellows out, and Tina, oblivious to Ciaran’s meltdown, pulls an ‘aaahh’ face before patting his arm like he’s her pet poodle.

  ‘You see …’ We’re all looking at Ciaran, waiting for him to carry on. ‘Yes, I want to thank my parents, for everything they’ve done for me,’ he continues. He bows his head in their direction. ‘And of course my lovely bride. I, err especially want to say …’ Ciaran stops again and Tina is scanning the room, making sure we’re all catching her moment of glory. She’s practically bobbing up and down with anticipation. The room is silent; even the waiters have stopped moving around.

  ‘Err, shit. Look, I’m sorry but this, this, is err … no good.’ He shakes his head. Jesus, what’s he doing? My hand freezes around the wine glass. I glance across at Tom, who darts a worried look back at me, eyebrows furrowed.

  ‘Tina, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean for it to be like this bu—’ Tears glisten in his eyes, and he quickly wipes them away, using the cuff of his jacket.

  ‘Is he OK, do you think?’ I whisper to Eddie. He just shrugs his shoulders. A seed of doubt is niggling within me.

  ‘Tina, I’m so sorry, but I can’t, I, err, I can’t lie any more.’ Ciaran shakes his head. For a moment Tina’s face is cemented into a rictus of horror that suddenly cracks. The room descends into a deathly silence.

  ‘What do you mean?’ she whispers.

  ‘I’m sorry, but I. Um, I just can’t keep it to myself any more.’ Ciaran looks as though he’s suddenly come alive now. His shoulders are back and he’s looking straight at Tina.

  ‘I just knew it. You bitch, you lying bitch,’ Tina screams. She turns towards me, jabbing her finger in the air. Feeling horrified, I look at Tom again, hoping I’m managing to convey my total confusion at this development. Am I imagining it, or has his face changed a little?

  ‘I’m in love with somebody else.’ Ciaran stops again, and everyone turns back to stare at him. But this time the silence hangs in the air. Tina is throwing killer looks at me, her mouth hanging open and a fury boiling up that’s making her face redden. I pretend to fiddle with my bag to avoid her glare. I can feel a rivulet of sweat snaking down my spine.

  Suddenly, everyone in the room cranes to stare at me. My cheeks are burning. I can feel Eddie’s thigh twitching furiously up and down against my chair. What the hell is Ciaran doing? He’s staring straight over here. And then I notice his eyes. The proverbial penny drops. He’s not looking at me. OH MY ACTUAL GOD! How come I never realised?

  ‘With Eddie …’ Ciaran says, his voice barely audible, but there’s no mistaking what he’s just come out with. He leaps off the podium and sprints across the room towards the doors. I can’t believe it. My mouth drops open. I turn to Eddie.

  ‘Ciaran is your Smith,’ I mutter in a daze, but Eddie flies up into a standing position, knocking his chair back behind him and running off after Ciaran. The silence is still hanging. Even Tina is speechless and totally motionless now. I can’t move. I’m stunned as I glance across the table. Tom is looking at me, relief spread across his f
ace. The silence is pointed.

  ‘What did he say?’ The old man’s voice reverberates around the room.

  Tina lets out a piercing shriek before yelling after Ciaran, ‘You won’t get away with this you know.’ And then she puts her hands to her face. ‘I thought he loved me. He sai—’ Tina is sobbing now, black streaks of mascara streaming down her face, and I feel a sudden rush of sorrow for her. She really thought she’d bagged her prince. On Valentine’s Day too. Doesn’t get more brutal than that.

  ‘I’ve got to go to him,’ I mumble to no one in particular, managing an apologetic shrug towards Tom. ‘Eddie’s my best friend,’ I stammer, and then stumble as I try to stand up. My legs have turned to jelly, it must be the shock. I steal another glance at Tina, and she catches me looking.

  ‘Nothing’s changed,’ she mouths, scrubbing furiously at her tearstained face. Her eyes are glinting with a mixture of revenge and hatred. She must think I was in on the secret. I know she’ll stop at nothing to make us all pay, and the look on her face tells me I’m the first in line. If I accept the promotion then I’ll have to cut Ciaran off, my best friend’s boyfriend, and right when they’re both going to need their friends the most. I can’t do that to Eddie, especially when he’s been such a loyal friend to me. And I shudder at the thought of what Tina will do to him.

  I manage to stand up. Tom catches my eye and smiles as I dash from the room. I throw open the huge swing doors and run down the long corridor towards the atrium.

  Where would they go? I think quickly, bending over to recover from the run and the shock. Everything slots into place. Eddie sniping at Ciaran. Ciaran always loitering around when Eddie was chatting to me on the shop floor – he wasn’t interested in me at all. I knew it was a ridiculous notion. It was Eddie he’d come to see. And, of course, Eddie’s weird behaviour in Brighton; he didn’t want Ciaran to go through with the wedding either. Yes, it all makes sense now, but for a second I feel a stab of hurt they didn’t confide in me.

  My heart is racing. Any minute now and Tina is going to be beating a warpath down to us. I want to find my friends before she lays into them. I fling open the nearest door, it’s a private dining room and it’s empty. I run to the next one, it’s also empty.

  Then I hear voices. I push open the door gingerly. Ciaran is slumped forward in an armchair by the window; he has his head in his hands and Eddie is kneeling down in front of him with his arms around Ciaran’s shoulders.

  ‘Can I come in?’

  Eddie looks up at me. His eyes are watery, as though he’s been crying. He nods, not looking me in the eye. Ciaran lifts his head, his eyes are red raw.

  ‘Georgie, I’m so sorry. I-I don’t know how to apologise.’ Eddie bows his head. Tears prick my eyes. My heart goes out to them both.

  ‘Why didn’t you just say? It would have been OK, you know,’ I say, softly. Ciaran swallows hard.

  ‘I think I just got used to keeping the secret. Where I come from, people aren’t gay. End of.’

  ‘But you can’t change who you are.’

  ‘True, but sometimes you try to. Especially when you’re brought up to believe acting on gay urges is sinful, and my mother is practically on first-name terms with the Pope, she’s been to the Vatican that many times.’ He attempts a wry smile. ‘And now I’ve shamed her in the worst way possible. It was already bad enough that the wedding wasn’t in a church. I hated lying, but I soon learnt … you know, I even told one of the teachers at school, years ago. I was about thirteen. Asked her if I really would go to hell for liking boys. The following Monday, she reassured me she’d had a mass said for me and that I must never let those words of the devil cross my lips again. For some crazy reason I thought if I got married then my secret would always be safe. I’d be “normal” and “respectable” and those things that mean everything to people like my parents.’ Eddie squeezes Ciaran’s hand. ‘I thought it might be different when I came to England, that I’d have the courage to be myself. But well, as time went by, it became harder and harder. You know how nervy everyone gets when things aren’t as they originally appear.’ The words tumble from his mouth. And yes, I know exactly what he means.

  ‘Ciaran, it makes no difference,’ I say. ‘You’re a mate. That’s all that matters.’ I move closer to Ciaran and throw my arms around his stiff shoulders, knowing first-hand what it feels like to be judged by other people’s perceptions of you. Eddie looks up at me.

  ‘Thank you,’ he mouths, and I notice his body is totally relaxed now. He’s not twitching any more. Then something occurs to me.

  ‘Hang on a minute – you let me take crap from Tina deliberately, didn’t you? You must have heard the rumours about Ciaran fancying me. Everyone thought that was the reason he hung around the shop floor all the time.’ I look over at Ciaran and Eddie.

  ‘It’s all my fault,’ Ciaran starts. ‘I’m so sorry, Georgie, I really am. Eddie begged me to come clean with you. And I tried, several times – that’s why I was on the shop floor so much – but there just never seemed like a right moment. I hated letting you be our smokescreen, but when Tina got it into her head you were after me, well … I guess it just seemed easier to let you be the object of her attention. And then I worried that if you knew the truth about me and Eddie, then you might inadvertently let it slip to Tina, if she pushed you hard enough. And God knows she’s enough to push anyone over the edge.’ He manages a wry smile. ‘I was determined to tell you that night Sam’s dad died.’ Ciaran looks at me, his eyes begging for forgiveness.

  If only he knew. Tina’s threat still rings in my ears. I pull myself back to the moment. I can’t tell him yet. This isn’t the time, or the place.

  ‘I remember.’ I nod. ‘And I’m not being funny, but maybe we should have guessed.’ I shrug my shoulders and they frown at me.

  ‘Weell, you know … your penchant for a nice pink fondant fancy.’ I smirk to lighten the mood, and they both grin. Eddie jumps up to give me a big squeeze.

  ‘I blooming love you,’ he says, before straightening his jacket and pulling a flouncy face.

  ‘And I’m just tired of pretending. All that finger-pistolling to try and prove my alpha-male status … OK, so I just made up a word,’ Ciaran shrugs, before firing a feeble finger-pistol one last time. We all laugh. ‘But you know what I mean.’ And we certainly do.

  36

  It’s Tuesday morning and from the beaming smile stretched across Eddie’s face, it’s obvious he’s overflowing with happiness. His eyes are sparkling, a total contrast to my bloodshot turquoise ones as I peer into the lift mirror to inspect them.

  ‘Thanks for coming in today … after everything that’s happened over the weekend,’ I say, quickly smudging on some concealer in an attempt to disguise the puffy circles that are hanging like parachutes under my eyes.

  ‘No problem, honey pie, it’s the least I could do. Are you all set for the meeting?’ he smiles, encouragingly. I called Eddie yesterday, after he and Ciaran sent flowers by way of apology for letting me be their unknowing decoy. I ended up telling him about the promotion and how I’d been stewing over my options. I’ve not slept since the night before the wedding. I’m exhausted, but I know what I’ve got to do, and to lend some moral support Eddie’s kindly offered to sit in on the meeting with James and Tom. I just have to convince Maxine I need him there.

  ‘Just about,’ I reply, inhaling hard through my nose and out through my mouth. I can’t wait to get it over and done with. ‘How’s Ciaran?’ I ask, tentatively. I’m keeping Tina’s demand to myself for now.

  ‘He’ll be fine. His parents are still talking to him, just about … guess it’s going to take time. He’s taken this week off to try and sort things out with Tina. He still feels terrible about it all,’ Eddie sighs. ‘But it’s not as though she was wearing wings throughout … but he insists on shouldering all of the blame.’ He rolls his eyes, and I manage a smirk. Poor Ciaran, I dread to think what hoops she’ll have him jumping through now.

  ‘OK
, see you later,’ I say, as the lift pings.

  ‘Can’t wait. Just call if you need to,’ he says, blowing me a kiss as I wrench the lift door closed.

  I make my way straight into the staff room to call Maxine.

  ‘Yes,’ she purrs after the first ring.

  ‘Maxine, I’ve made my decision, and I’d like to use your office to let James and Tom know.’ I pause, letting the words sink in.

  ‘Awesome. Be my guest,’ she says, enthusiastically. ‘I’ll sit in … just in case they take it badly,’ she quickly adds. Unable to resist the opportunity to gloat, more like. So predictable.

  ‘Sure, and I was thinking it might be a good idea to have Eddie there to take notes, with it being such a sensitive meeting. I don’t want to contravene any employment rules,’ I say, willing her to agree. I’m not sure I can do it without him there and I tried calling Amy yesterday, but she’s on a training course in London and her assistant, Zoe, said to do whatever Maxine asked as Walter would have authorised it in any case.

  ‘Good idea. What time?’

  ‘Is four o’clock OK?’ I ask, thinking that will leave me plenty of time to get over to Hanley Cross and back. ‘I’ve got to pop out before th—’ But she cuts in.

  ‘Yes, yes whatever,’ she says, rudely, as if details are mere trivia, and she’s not to be bothered with them.

  ‘See you there then.’

  ‘Perfect. And then we can finish up early and celebrate after you’ve done the deed.’ She hangs up. I glance at my watch. Not long to go until I get what I want.

  *

  On turning into the road of the dreary sink estate on the outskirts of Mulberry-On-Sea, a rush of sadness washes over me. I glance at my watch, knowing I need to keep an eye on the time. I reach the entrance door to the block of flats and, after finding the correct number, I jam my finger on the buzzer. But before the intercom jumps into action, the door swings open and he comes out to meet me.

  ‘Oh darling, it’s so lovely to see you. I’m thrilled you came.’ It’s Dad, and I’m shocked at how old he looks – properly old, like he’s someone’s granddad, and not the vibrant man that I remember swinging me around and around in the garden all those years ago. His hair, which used to be thick and black, is now thin and dappled with grey, and he has a hint of a stoop. I feel awkward. It’s been so long. He senses it, I’m sure, and places a reassuring arm around me before giving my shoulders a gentle squeeze.

 

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