“Nina will join us shortly,” Shay announced. “She is putting some finishing touches to the main course apparently.”
“I should help her,” Erica stood again. “Or at least observe the master at work, because I know she won't let me do anything.” She smiled at them all, and left the room with her glass of champagne. Mark couldn't help but notice her legs as she walked away. She had very nice legs.
“So how was your Christmas?” Christine turned to him, and took a sip from her own flute.
“Eh, different,” he smiled at her. “I haven't spent Christmas in Ireland since Mum died.”
“Oh, I'm sorry. I didn't know she was dead.”
“Oh, that's okay. It was three years ago. And she had been sick a long time.”
Christine nodded into her glass. “So were you with your Dad for Christmas?”
“No, he's been dead for years. Actually, it'll be twenty years next summer.” Mark was shocked by this fact, even as he spoke the words. “It seems like yesterday.” He noticed Laura looking at him, ostensibly listening to Fitz who was talking about the painting over the fireplace. He looked back at Christine. “Wow, sorry. Depressing subject matter. Let's start that again. How was your Christmas?”
“Tell her about your Christmas Day, Mark.” Shay had clearly been listening to their conversation as he moved around the room, topping up glasses. “Mark here spent Christmas Day feeding the homeless,” he announced to the room, ignoring Mark’s glares.
Mark shook his head. “It was a lot less effort than it sounds,” he said to Christine. “And it was a first. The last time I did anything for charity was a sponsored silence in junior school.”
“Maybe so, but it was still a great thing to do.” Shay was not to be silenced. “Not many people are willing to give up their Christmas Day to do something like that.”
“Well, as we had established, I wasn’t giving up much.” Mark turned slightly on the sofa, hoping Shay might take the hint and change the subject. “So, you were saying? How was your Christmas? Please tell me you had a blast and got massively drunk and ate three dinners.”
Christine laughed. “Not quite I’m afraid. I spent my Christmas alone with my Dad. My mother died five years ago.” She laughed irrationally. “Sorry, I have the same sob story.”
Mark sensed sadness behind the bravado.
“Actually, I had a really nice day with my Dad. He's quite the chef. It was very enjoyable.”
“Good.”
“My sister's abroad, so it was just the two of us.”
“New Zealand.”
“Australia.”
“Yes, right. Have you been over to her?”
“Not yet.” Christine looked down into her glass. “She's only been there three years, and she's been home a couple of times herself. Maybe next year.”
“You should try swing a trip to the Singapore office and go on from there. It'd be cheaper.”
“I'm not sure the boss would fall for that one,” she laughed at him over the rim of her glass as she drained it.
Those eyes. “Oh, I'm sure you could convince him.”
Suddenly, the sofa bounced as Erica plonked herself back down beside him.
“Well, we're certainly in for some treats by the looks of things in the kitchen,” she said to them both.
“Great. I'm starving. Thanks Shay.” Christine winked at her host as he refilled her drink.
“So you two work together?” Erica turned slightly in her seat as Shay emptied the champagne bottle into her glass.
“Mark is my boss,” Christine answered. Mark tried not to catch Shay's eye. He wasn't sure if he was in the luckiest position in the world seated between Erica and Christine, or the unluckiest.
“And what do you do?” Erica was clearly used to working a room.
“I'm a meteorologist.”
Erica raised an eyebrow. “At CarltonWachs? Really?”
“Yeah, well a lot of the bank's investments are affected one way or another by the weather. Not least oil, and other commodities. So it's my job to forecast how future weather patterns might impact on our business.”
Mark sat back a little as the conversation continued across him. He was beginning to feel very warm. He wanted to remove his sweater, but he found he couldn’t move.
“That is so interesting.” Erica sat up a little straighter. “I studied science originally. I think I would have really enjoyed meteorology.”
“What do you do yourself?”
“I work for a pharmachem company. It's a Dutch company, but they have two manufacturing plants here.”
“Erica is the MD in Ireland.” Shay nodded at Mark and Christine. “Don't let her imply that she just works for those boys. She runs the show.”
“Shay.” Erica looked embarrassed. “I do love it though. I get to go to The Netherlands a lot, which is great.”
“Erica has a fabulous apartment in Utrecht.”
“Shay. Will you stop. You sound like you're trying to sell me off.”
“Sorry, sorry. I'll go and see what's keeping Nina.” Shay left his tumbler down on the coffee table. “You kids alright here for a moment?”
“We'll be okay,” Robert nodded at him.
“So, Christine, do you live around here?” Sandra leaned forward.
“No, I rent an apartment just south of the city,” Christine answered. “On the seafront.”
“Oh, lovely,” Sandra put her hand on her husband's knee. “I'm always telling Robert that I'd like to live on the coast. It must be marvellous to wake up to the sea air every morning. My parents are Sardinian, I think it's in my blood to be near the sea.”
“But these are such beautiful houses,” Erica said. “And you have such nice neighbours. I can see why you would want to stay.” The last part was directed at Robert who smiled and put an arm around his wife.
“Yes. That's what I say. But we'll see.”
Mark guessed looking across the coffee table that Robert wouldn't be able to say no to his wife for very long. She was gorgeous. And he appeared smitten. He doubted that anyone had ever looked at himself and Jennifer together and thought how much in love they were. He envied Robert. He would give all he had to be able to put his arm around Christine right now as she sat close to him on the sofa. Just to put his arm around her, and for her to turn and look at him like Sandra looked at Robert. And call him darling.
Then she stood suddenly, startling him.
“Excuse me,” she said quietly, and left the room. He stared at the pale pink imprint of her on the rim of her champagne flute, left behind on the coffee table.
“So banking must be a whole heap of fun at the moment.” Laura's remark dropped like a stone into the heretofore gentle banter of the evening.
“Ah well,” Mark sighed. “We just have to keep working through it. It'll get better. Slowly, most likely, but it'll get better.”
“Absolutely,” Robert added, raising his glass very slightly towards Mark.
“Everyone. You're all here.” Nina burst into the room and hugged them all in turn. “I'm so sorry I've been hiding. Had a minor mishap with the dessert, but it's all sorted now. Have you all got a drink? I hope Shay has been taking care of you?”
“Nina, you have the place looking fabulous,” Sandra looked around her. “How can you make it look like a palace, when our identical home looks like a toyshop exploded in it?”
“Well, after the kids left for Shay's Mum's this morning, I had a little help, I must admit. I borrowed Mark's cleaner. She is such a star, Mark.” Nina touched his shoulder. “She had the place shining in three hours. She even did some ironing for me. I might just have to have her over here on a regular basis.”
Shay threw his eyes to heaven. “Here we go.” He handed his wife a drink.
“Thanks, Shay. So,” she raised the glass. “Whenever you guys are ready, you can go on in. Bring your drinks. Shay, you get everyone seated, and come help me with the starters.” Nina disappeared back towards the kitchen.
> “Right so. You heard her. Into the dining room. Chop chop.”
Mark stood back and let Laura and Fitz follow Erica. Robert and Sandra left next, Robert carrying both of their drinks. Mark remembered Christine's champagne, and he took it from the table to bring it in to her. He had to stop himself taking a clandestine sip from where her lips had touched the glass.
“Okay there, Mark?” Shay looked at him with a small measure of guilt in his eyes.
Mark wasn't quite sure what to say. “Is she here alone?” He hoped Shay would just understand.
“It's over. She dumped him,” Shay whispered. “Nina called her by chance yesterday, and when Christine told her, Nina felt bad for her and invited her along without thinking. I was going to tell you, Mark, but Nina made me swear not to. She thought you'd cancel if you knew.”
“Yeah.” Nina was probably right.
“Anyway, it's a good thing, no?” Shay glanced out the door to make sure no one was listening. “Erica's a nice girl too.”
Mark looked at him. “It's a feast or a famine,” he laughed. Other than noticing her legs, he realised he hadn't given Erica a second thought.
“And even after all of that,” Shay ushered him out in to the hall, “the one you really need to watch out for is bloody Laura.”
~
The dining room seemed to twinkle with festive exuberance. The dim pendant light hanging from the ceiling allowed the flickering candles to throw a party glow over the table, which sparkled with cut crystal glasses and shining silverware. The room was a similar shape to the sitting room and the table was set to the backdrop of floor to ceiling windows painted black by the night outside. When Mark and Shay walked in, everyone else was hovering around the dining chairs, remarking on the beauty of the setting.
“Right,” Nina came in from the kitchen and stood at the head of the table. “Laura, you sit next to me.” This sounded more of an order than a request. “And Fitz can sit by you. Erica, you sit in the middle there.” She paused, as if unsure whether to impose any further seating plan on her guests.
“Rob, you and Sandra sit either side of me,” Shay continued. “We can't have you sitting next to each other, holding hands all night.” He pulled out the chair just left of the top of the table, and Sandra eased herself gracefully into it. Robert set her drink down before her, and went to sit opposite.
“It's all so beautiful, Nina,” Sandra smiled.
Mark watched it all, observing how Nina and Shay worked as a team. They seemed almost telepathic. There were only two seats left, so he set the glasses he was holding down and pulled out the seat next to Nina's for Christine.
“Thanks Mark.”
“I left your champagne there.”
“Oh great, thanks.”
Mark saw Nina look over at Erica out of the corner of his eye, but she was busy unfolding her linen napkin and placing it across her lap. He took his place directly opposite her, and she looked up and smiled at him. He began to understand that he had a particular role to play at this party. Nina had invited him and Erica, knowing they were both single. And now, seated around the table, it was clear that she had meant for them to meet, hoping that they might get along.
But now she was here.
Alone.
The whole situation began to feel somewhat complicated and a little stressful. But then Mark looked around him. He was sitting in a beautiful room, with good friends and interesting strangers on New Year's Eve, about to be served a lovely meal. He lifted his own napkin and shook it out. He was going to enjoy himself. That was it. Just enjoy himself, and see where the evening went. He lifted his wine glass which Shay had just filled with a good Bordeaux and smiled around the table.
“Cheers everyone,” he said. “Here's to a great night.”
~
She shouldn't have come. It was painfully obvious that she was the odd one at the table, the one without a partner, or the suggestion of one. She should have realised that Nina would have planned her guest list with precision and forethought. It had been naive of her to just assume that it would be okay to come along at the last minute. She had thrown the dynamic of the party. Even the table setting had been skewed because of her.
But the alternative had been too much to consider. She couldn't have asked Emily and Jack not to spend their first New Year's Eve together, but there was no way she was going to go out with the two of them together. She didn't blame Jack for what had happened, but she didn't really want to talk to him either. Just for the moment. And her Dad was going out with Grace, and Christine had no intention of messing up his plans. And she couldn't bear the thought of spending New Year's Eve alone in her apartment. She had come so far over the past six months. She had improved so much. A night at home alone like that could set her back months. Coming here had seemed like the obvious thing to do.
But she hadn't thought it through properly. Nina had clearly thought that Erica and Mark might hit it off. The rest of them were couples, although by the manner in which Fitz was leering at her across the table, she doubted how serious a partnership he and Laura were. She was the awkward extra place on one side, the unnecessary appendix, the fifth wheel.
But it was too late now to stand up and leave on some lame excuse. She would just upset everyone's evening, and she couldn't do that to Nina. And everyone was being so friendly, no one seemed to have noticed her very single status. So as Nina set a colourful salad plate before her, Christine smiled up at her in thanks, resolving to stick it out.
She drained her champagne glass.
And Mark didn't seem to be completely in Erica's pocket, yet. He seemed to be more engaged with the exotic Sandra to his right. He was in good form, she observed. He had been a little cold with her after the Christmas party. She was glad that seemed to be all forgotten about.
“So, black pudding, chorizo and scallop, with a salad of dressed lambs lettuce,” Nina held her glass aloft. “Enjoy, everybody.”
“Looks great darling,” Shay beamed at his wife from the other end of the table.
The room fell silent but for the sounds of scraping cutlery and satiated taste buds. Christine watched Mark tuck into his plate with vigour.
“Laura, is yours okay?” Nina peered over into her sister's plate.
“Great, thanks.”
“Laura is a vegetarian,” Shay condoled.
“I eat fish,” Laura said. “I'm just not that big on fried blood and intestines.”
“Laura,” Nina gestured to her own plate, “this is some award-winning pudding. And chorizo is not made from intestines.”
“Well,” Shay began.
“Oh stop Shay,” Nina squealed. “Well, I don't care. It's tasty.”
“It's amazing,” Mark and Erica said together. They looked at each other and laughed. Christine shot a glance across at her. She could see in an instant what Erica was thinking. She clearly approved of Nina's choice of blind date for her. And why wouldn't she? Mark was good looking, successful, and single. Christine sliced through a golden buttery scallop and regarded Mark as she put her fork in her mouth. At that moment, she struggled to think of a reason not to like Mark. She had just always seen him as her boss. And he had been with Jennifer. And then she had been with Gavan. There had just never been a time to think of him in any other way.
But sitting there at the table, she tried to see Mark from Erica’s point of view. His dark hair was sprinkled with silver over his ears. A very light stubble coloured his skin where it moved up and down as he chewed. Christine smiled at Nina as she related an amusing food prep related incident to the table, but inside she was trying to remember something else Nina had once said to her. She had implied that Mark had liked her. What had she said? She remembered not really paying attention, having been too bewitched by Gavan at the time to care. But then there had been the Christmas party. Of course he had been so inebriated it hadn't made much sense, but he had hinted at something. And wasn’t there something else?
Christine reached for her wine, and
sat back in her chair. Erica was relating some evidently amazing story to Robert, who was listening intently. Nina was talking animatedly with Laura, and Shay and Sandra were discussing something related to one of the crystal wine glasses. Christine's head began to feel fuzzy. She had better go easy on the wine. Then she remembered. The Dorchester. That had been such a lovely evening. Of course, she had wasted much of it secretly thinking about Gavan, and how she would love to have brought him there. What a fool she had been.
But that evening in London had exposed a side of Mark that she had never noticed before. She gazed at him as she sat cosseting her wine glass. Suddenly there was a loud bang in the distance, and the huge black window came to life with a shower of red and gold drops of light in the sky beyond.
“Oh!” Nina exclaimed.
A couple of dogs started to bark madly somewhere.
“And so it begins,” said Shay, and he stood to clear the salad plates away.
~
The noise level in the room amplified in direct proportion to the number of empty bottles of wine collecting on the side board. By the time the passion fruit sorbet glasses had been cleared, and the plates of boeuf bourguignon had been set down, it might have seemed to someone listening at the door that there were nineteen people sitting around the table rather than just nine. Mark took a dish of baby potatoes from Sandra and turned to Christine who nodded at him. He served them both before passing the dish to Nina.
“French beans?” he asked.
“Please.”
She made no effort to reach for them herself, so he tonged some onto her plate and then his own. He was turned slightly towards her in his chair, and she sat back, very straight, with her hands resting on either side of her seat. The whole experience was strangely erotic. He was almost feeding her. And she was letting him. Encouraging him. Mark felt the red wine rushing to his face. He no longer felt hungry. He could hear the others compliment the food, the cook, raising glasses, toasting the cow that had met its demise so that it might be soused in burgundy and sage and thyme for their enjoyment. He joined in, raising his glass, smiling at his hosts, all the while fighting the increasingly impelling urge to turn to his left and kiss Christine. To hold her face, and to kiss her. To taste her. To take her hand and stand up and leave the room and go -
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