‘Where is he, Abigail?’ Hugh repeated. I had noticed during occasional drinks with Abs and Pete, that Hugh, fond as he clearly was of Abs, seemed to treat most of her conversation as not unpleasant white noise. He appeared to sieve it, honing in only on the salient and rarely acknowledging the hum of the rest.
‘He’s with the manager, double-checking our orders and costings,’ she explained. ‘He loves figures and food. Two of his very favourite things.’
It occurred to me to ask if these interests were up there with mending punctures and helping side-of-stage, but I stifled the urge by taking a sip from my drink. I noticed Jon do the same and he lowered his glass and offered me a smile as his eyes met mine.
Miriam coughed lightly.
‘Ooh, Miriam, I’m so sorry. Suzanna, this is Miriam,’ said Abs.
‘Hello,’ said Miriam. I detected a note of tension in her smile.
‘Miriam.’ Suzanna stepped forward and hugged her warmly, an indication I thought of the way in which Jon must have described her.
Miriam looked slightly taken aback but also, I thought, rather touched. ‘Lovely to meet you,’ she said and a quiet conversation immediately ensued.
Abs began talking to Connie about main courses and Greg sought Hugh’s advice concerning a pain in his lower back. I touched Hugh’s arm. ‘Sorry to interrupt. I’m just going to pop inside for a moment.’
Hugh nodded. ‘That’s fine.’
‘Don’t worry, Alice,’ said Greg. ‘I won’t grill him regarding medical matters for too long.’
‘You do realise that he specialises in dead people, don’t you, Greg?’ I said.
‘If he knows how my back bone connects to my tailbone,’ laughed Greg, ‘that’s good enough for me.’
I looked up at Hugh. He was smiling and I judged him to be happy with the conversation. ‘Fair enough,’ I shrugged. ‘Back in a mo.’
‘I’ll come with you,’ said Jon. Suzanna looked over her shoulder at him and smiled. As she did so, Miriam took the opportunity to catch my eye and wink. I looked at her questioningly, as she put her hand to her mouth, feigned a cough and mouthed the word gossip at me, her hand still positioned to hide her mouth from the rest of the group. In response, I frowned and attempted what I hoped was a brief but disapproving thinning of the lips at her shameless lack of discretion. I then turned and walked with Jon towards the open French windows, through which we could see David and Romy laughing, as Sophie concluded an anecdote, inaudible to us. She turned as we approached.
‘Hello, you two. After more booze?’ she smiled. ‘And where are your dinner guests? Why haven’t you brought them in for a meet and greet?’
‘Miriam’s got one and Greg’s got the other,’ I explained.
‘Well,’ said Sophie, ‘I don’t fancy being able to crowbar myself into either of those conversations.’
‘You underestimate yourself,’ said David. ‘You’re rather an expert with a conversational crowbar. Although you do tend to whack, rather than lever.’
Romy laughed and Sophie looked simultaneously shocked and amused. ‘When,’ she said, ‘did you get so bold, David Moore?’ she asked, nudging him. ‘We were just saying last week how cheeky you’d become, weren’t we, Alice?’
‘You were,’ I said. ‘I was actually very busy.’
‘Busy chucking a cheque and two invoices in the bin,’ she returned with a smirk.
David snorted in an attempt not to laugh. She had clearly shared the incident with him.
I tutted. ‘Two cheques and one invoice, actually.’
Jon looked at David. ‘I admire your fortitude,’ he said.
‘They have their upside,’ smiled David.
Romy sighed. ‘I wish my working environment was such a happy one,’ she said.
‘How are things professionally?’ I asked.
‘Well,’ she smiled, ‘I’ve got a job interview in Bristol next Friday.’
‘Wow,’ I said. ‘Miriam must be over the moon.’
She laughed. ‘I’ve told her not to get her hopes too high. But it would be lovely to be nearer her and Phoebe.’ She sipped her drink. ‘And Craig, of course,’ she added quietly.
I glanced at Jon, making a mental note to enquire at some point how his evening with Craig had gone. We had texted and emailed regularly since meeting for drinks, but the topic of Craig had barely been touched upon. I knew that he and Jon had gone to the pub, and that Craig had been “OK” but, beyond that, nothing.
‘You could join book group!’ exclaimed Sophie.
Romy smiled. ‘That was the first thing Miriam said. But I’m not sure I would – or should. You’re such an established group. I wouldn’t want to upset the equilibrium.’
‘Equilibrium my arse,’ said Sophie. David coughed lightly. ‘You’ve met us all. We couldn’t achieve equilibrium if we tried. And we don’t try,’ she added with a grin. ‘I love our lack of equilibrium. Don’t you?’ She looked at Jon.
He smiled at her and then turned to Romy. ‘If you do move to Bristol,’ he said, ‘we’d love to have you.’
‘I think you would be very happy here,’ said David. ‘Bristol has much to offer.’ He looked at Romy and she flashed him a grateful smile, which succeeded in making her appear more beautiful than ever. David returned the smile with one equally as charming and I nudged Jon, his only reaction to which was to emit a light sigh.
‘He’s back!’ cried Abs, rushing in from the terrace and looking beyond us to the stairs. I turned to look over my shoulder and saw Pete.
We all said hello, while Pete raised a salutary hand, at the rate of a leaden flag going up an extremely tall flagpole.
‘Is everything sorted, Pete?’ asked Abs.
He nodded slowly. ‘All sorted,’ he said, his features gradually arranging themselves into a smile.
Abs clapped her hands. ‘Brilliant!’ she exclaimed. ‘Now, Pete, do you have the place cards?’
‘I do,’ he said, extracting cards from every pocket of his chinos and handing them in batches to Abs.
‘Splendid,’ she said. ‘You get yourself a glass of fizzy stuff, Pete, and take a moment to calm down, whilst I just pop these on the table. I thought it would be rather exciting if we started off not sitting next to the people we brought.’ There was a general murmur of agreement. ‘And then we can swap around with each course as usual.’ Abs began to lay out the cards, reading the names aloud as she went. ‘Sophie, Hugh, Romy, Jon…’
I sipped my drink and waited for it to be revealed that I would be sitting next to Greg.
‘…me and Greg and… Alice!’ concluded Abs, triumphantly. ‘There. Isn’t that fantastic?’ she said, standing back and admiring the table. ‘Come on, everybody. Let’s eat!’
Chapter 41
It was with some surprise, given my early sense of mild despair at finding myself sitting next to Greg, that I found myself enjoying the evening, Greg and all, from the off. The reason for this unexpected turn of events was that he, I discovered, was genuinely proud that his matchmaking on my behalf had met with some success. And his eagerness to discover the exact nature and extent of that success meant that he was, for once, more keen to talk about pleasure than business. Connie, who was sitting directly opposite us, had, I suspected, shared my initial concerns regarding our pairing and threw us several nervous glances, the frequency of which increased upon her hearing Greg mention Stephen. However, I attempted to reassure her, by means of cheerful nods and smiles, that all was well, and after a few minutes she relaxed enough to appear fully absorbed in her conversation with Miriam.
Of course, Greg conducted our conversation with a total lack of sensitivity and diplomacy, treating me, as he always did, as some sort of charming village idiot. However, keeping his voice lowered, and resisting all urges to play to the gallery, he revealed a more sentimental side to his character, never before apparent to me. And this, together with my enjoyment of no longer playing single white female to his confident family man, made his habitual lack of t
act seem entertaining, and even endearing, rather than annoying.
‘I’m pleased it’s all going so well,’ he said, upon learning that I would be spending the following weekend with Stephen. ‘OK, so you’ve cocked-up with your choices in the past,’ he punched me not-so-lightly on the arm, ‘but now it’s onwards and upwards. Stephen is a nice bloke and is very keen. I’m keeping my fingers crossed for you.’
‘Me too,’ I said, holding up my hands to illustrate the point.
‘I’ve got a good feeling about it – like I did when we developed the ceramics side of things,’ he said, unable to resist a commercial analogy. ‘I thought you and Stephen might click from the start, you know.’ He gestured across the table towards Connie. ‘I said so to Connie. You’re a very attractive lass, Alice, and while you may not be the sharpest tool in the shed by any means, you’re not stupid either.’ He tapped his forehead. ‘It’s always been clear to me that there’s a brain up there, should you choose to use it.’
‘Thank you.’
‘And Stephen does have a lovely car,’ he said. ‘It sort of purrs, doesn’t it?’ He gazed dreamily at his wine glass.
‘It is nice,’ I agreed.
‘Yes,’ he said. ‘I could have bought a Porsche when I was twenty-five, you know.’
‘No, I didn’t know that.’
‘Well, it’s true,’ he sighed. ‘But, of course, I chose Connie instead.’
I decided it best simply to accept, rather than request an explanation of, the statement. ‘Of course.’
‘And,’ he said, ‘it was the right choice and I’ve never regretted it for a minute.’
I looked at him and, to my astonishment, thought I detected a twitch of emotion in his jaw line. ‘That’s a lovely thing to say,’ I said.
He looked across at Connie, smiled fondly and then seemed to recover himself. He cleared his throat and turned to me. ‘Of course,’ he said, turning up the volume, picking up his glass and draining the contents, ‘if it had been a choice between Connie and an Aston Martin, it might have been a different story.’
I rolled my eyes and nudged him. He winked and nudged me back with inappropriate force, causing a significant amount of the wine I had just picked up, to slop from glass to tablecloth – but I didn’t mind.
As our plates were removed at the end of the first course, Abs leapt up and collected all the place cards. Then, consulting a table plan extracted from a pale blue plastic wallet, she redistributed the cards in preparation for a seat-swap. When she had finished, she remained standing and tapped her wine glass lightly with a spoon to gain our attention.
‘Right, everybody,’ she said, as a hush descended, ‘I don’t know about you, but I have so enjoyed my first course discourse.’ She smiled down at David who had been sitting to her left. ‘David has been telling me all about his latest work projects and his plans to re-plumb at home.’ David shifted awkwardly in his seat, perhaps aware that Abs’ synopsis of their conversation didn’t make him sound like the greatest of raconteurs. ‘However,’ Abs continued, ‘it is now time for the main course shuffle. Yay!’ She smiled broadly and clapped her hands. ‘And for this course, you will be sitting next to the person you came with.’ This announcement prompted a light, but undeniably weary, ‘Oh,’ from Connie, which in turn prompted a loud guffaw from Greg, as he offered me a nodded farewell and made his way to the other side of the table. I watched, as he bent down to kiss his wife on arrival, and as she smiled up at him affectionately.
‘Hello, Alice,’ said a voice to my left.
‘Well, hello,’ I said to Hugh, as he sat down. ‘How was your starter?’
‘Very good,’ he replied. ‘I had the crab beignets and I don’t regret the choice.’
‘Good to know,’ I smiled. ‘And you got to know Sophie and Romy a little?’ I asked.
‘I did,’ he said. ‘Romy in particular was very interested in pathology.’
I was unable to prevent my upper lip from curling slightly. ‘Over dinner?’ I asked. ‘Are you positive she wasn’t just being polite?’
‘Yes, I am,’ he said. ‘I didn’t press the subject, or return to it. And I asked numerous questions regarding her personal history and interests. It was she who pursued the subject of pathology.’
‘Can I just ask something, Hugh?’ I asked quietly.
He sighed. ‘Go on.’
‘Well, you know this personal history and interests thing?’
‘Yes.’
‘Is that something your sister has suggested you talk to people about?’
He nodded. ‘It is, yes. Why? Do you not think it’s a good idea?’
I held up a hand. ‘No, I think she’s spot on. It’s just that I don’t think she would have intended you to repeat the phrase personal history and interests every time you ask someone about—’
‘—their personal history and interests?’ He completed the sentence for me.
‘Yes.’
He raised his eyebrows, as if bemused but nevertheless willing to give the matter some consideration. ‘OK,’ he said eventually, ‘I’ll stop doing that. Now,’ he glanced under the table, ‘can I ask you to move your bag, because it’s vibrating against my leg.’
‘Ooh, sorry,’ I said, reaching down and delving into my bag. ‘It’s my phone. It’s in the front zip pocket and on vibrate. It has quite an aggressive pulse.’
‘I’ll let you check it,’ said Hugh, picking up a bottle of red wine and leaning away from me, across the corner of the table, to offer some to Suzanna.
I took my phone from my bag. Three missed texts from Stephen. All identical and sent at five-minute intervals – the result, I assumed, of a glitch in overseas texting.
There was also a missed call from him but no voicemail. I smiled and texted a reply, confirming that I was enjoying myself and that I would call him when home. I then returned my phone to my bag and sat up, just in time for the waiter to present me with my main course of sea bass.
‘This looks great,’ I said looking at my plate. ‘It was such a good idea to come here,’ I added, raising my voice slightly and directing the comment towards Abs. And, as my declaration was echoed generally around the table and translated by Pete into a kiss for Abs, we all tucked in.
The second seat-swap of the evening was effected with much less efficiency than the first, for two reasons. Firstly, there were no place cards to guide us; Pete had collected these in, whilst Abs instructed us to, ‘sit next to two people you haven’t yet sat next to.’ The second hindrance to completion of the set task was the significant amount of alcohol which had been consumed by almost everyone during the first two courses. Consequently, locating a seat between two entirely new neighbours, when we had each already sat next to four of the twelve attendees, proved a huge intellectual and logistical challenge. It led to several minutes of us all wandering round the table, like a crowd of Goldilocks in search of a suitable chair. In the end, having moved twice, I decided to sit down, stay put and let the mountains come to Mohammed.
My first mountain was Miriam, a result which delighted me; although I was having such a lovely time that I decided there was no outcome with which I would have been disappointed.
‘I’m going to sit here and stay here,’ she said, flopping down next to me. ‘I’ve already had to move on from Romy and then again when Connie sat down and I’m not moving again. ‘Where’s the wine?’ She glanced around before stretching for a bottle of white and topping up her glass. ‘Want some more?’
I placed a hand over the top of my half-full glass. ‘I’m fine for now, thanks.’
She leaned towards me and smiled. ‘I’ve got something very interesting to tell you,’ she said conspiratorially. ‘You know how—’ She stopped abruptly and looked over my shoulder.
‘Hello,’ she beamed. ‘Would you like some?’ She held up the wine bottle and I turned to see that Jon had now occu
pied the seat to my left.
‘I’m on red,’ he said, pointing towards his glass. ‘I’ll help myself later.’
‘OK,’ smiled Miriam. ‘How about you, Greg?’ she asked, turning to her right as he sat down next to her. Top up?’
I looked at Jon and smiled. ‘Well hello, Mr Durham,’ I said.
‘Well hello, Ms Waites,’ he replied, returning the smile. ‘How’s your evening going?’
‘Really well,’ I said. ‘And yours?’
‘Getting better by the moment and,’ he paused, ‘I have some gossip for you.’
I laughed. ‘Not you too? I’m already on a promise from Miriam. What’s yours about?’
He turned and looked across the table at Romy and then back at me. ‘It’s about why,’ he said, lowering his voice, ‘you are wrong about David and Romy.’
‘Ooh, why?’ I asked, leaning towards him, my eyes widening.
‘Because,’ he whispered, ‘she’s got her eye on someone else.’
I put my hand to my mouth and waited for him to continue but he said nothing more. ‘Well, come on,’ I tugged at his shirt sleeve. ‘Who is it? Tell me.’
‘Wait a moment,’ he said, ‘while I pause to build up the excitement.’
I groaned and was about to demand immediate further details, when Greg reached behind Miriam and prodded my arm. ‘Look, Alice, here comes dessert. Every woman’s favourite course. But as I always say to Connie,’ he wagged a cautionary finger, ‘a moment on the lips, a lifetime on the hips.’
Miriam tutted and smiled at me, before turning in her seat to address him. ‘I’m surprised Connie hasn’t brained you, you know.’
‘Me too, Miriam,’ he said, nodding his thanks to the waitress as she presented him with a sizeable summer pudding. ‘Me too.’
* * *
It was eleven o’clock, and we had eaten dessert, drunk coffee and enjoyed an impromptu, enthusiastic and expletive-riddled vote of thanks to Abs from Sophie, by the time the waitress placed the final bill on the table.