The Party Season (29 page)

'I think so. A lawyer.'

'Is he still going out with her?' Aidan asks. Giuseppe lets a small tut escape his lips. We both look at him and he makes a magnanimous carry-on gesture with his hand. 'Have you asked him about her?'

'No! I don't want to look desperate.'

'Well, how would you like things to proceed from here?'

'Past stuff aside, I want to, er—'

'Boff him?' Aidan puts in helpfully.

He is so uncouth. Wearily I say 'I don't know what I want. Maybe I just need to get this whole job over with and come back to London.'

'But past stuff aside?'

'That's the confusing bit. I mean, he was pretty nasty to me when we were kids.'

'Of course, you've known him for years,' Aidan murmurs thoughtfully.

'Yes! I've known him for years!' I repeat loudly so that the people at the back don't think I'm a complete and utter slut.

'Everybody is nasty when they is kids,' Giuseppe puts in. 'I once cut sister's hair when she asleep and—'

'This was a bit more than just childish pranks, Giuseppe. This was quite an intense campaign of bullying.'

Giuseppe mulls this over and helps himself to a glass of wine. The other waiters are scurrying about like billy-o and throwing him nasty looks but I'm actually quite keen to hear his opinion now.

'Give me example,' he says.

I tell him about the time Simon collected all the insects he could find, including some hefty spider specimens, threw them over me and then locked me in a cupboard for several hours. I was petrified.

'Ah,' he says at the end of this sorry tale.

'That doesn't sound so good, Izzy darling,' says Aidan.

'But do you think people change?' I persist, looking from one face to another.

'Yes!' says Aidan.

'No!' says Giuseppe. 'I think you have to ask, why he so nasty?' Giuseppe adds on helpfully.

'Because he didn't like me?' I answer in a very small voice.

Nobody says anything for a second. I can see they're struggling to find something positive to say. 'How's Dominic?' Aidan asks eventually.

'He's bloody buggery fine!' I damn near shout, almost falling off my bar stool again with the exertion. 'Why does everyone want to know how he is?'

'Who else wants to know how he is?'

'Eh?' My drink-sozzled brain is struggling to keep up.

'Who else wants to know how he is?'

'EVERYONE wants to know how he is. Why is that?' I pause and stare at Aidan. 'You're jealous, aren't you? You're not seeing him, are you?'

'Not jealous, Izzy. Just … well, it's too complicated to explain. He obviously hasn't said anything so I'm not saying anything either.' He crosses his arms.

On this subject he will not be drawn and eventually Giuseppe disappears behind the bar for another bottle of vino.

The next morning I'm not sure whether it's the insights of last night or the amount of alcohol I poured down my throat that make me feel so bad. I drag myself unwillingly into work. Gerald decides he is on a sales drive and insists on a total clearout of the offices because he says they don't look professional enough. He shouts instructions through his hand-held tannoy while we all spend the best part of an hour trooping up and down the stairs, returning all the props to the basement. It takes three of us to move Yogi the stuffed bear and every time I pass the kitchens I'm smacked in the face by garlic fumes. I'm feeling so nauseous by the time Yogi has been released into his natural habitat that I have to lie down in the basement for five minutes.

Aidan is obviously as awful as me and refuses to take off his
Top Gun
aviator shades, which makes it very hard for anyone to know whether he's listening to them or actually having a quick snooze. Every time one of us makes a visit to the coffee machine we return with a cup for the other in some sort of silent salute to our night together. Gerald is still charging about so, after a visit to the kitchens to confirm the food deliveries for the ball, I gather my things together and set off once more to Pantiles.

On the motorway, I delve into the underworld of my bag in search of my mobile and end up emptying the contents all over the passenger seat while dangerously swerving around lorries. No mobile. I come to the conclusion that I've probably left it on my desk at work. Gerald is going to kill me. I pull off at the next service station and call it from a payphone. Aidan answers. Damn. I make him promise to Fed-ex it to me at the estate that very minute and hang up.

I hesitate for a second before calling Dom on his mobile to let him know I'm on my way back. I also want to be pre-warned if anything disastrous has happened.

He answers on the second ring.

'Dom, it's me.'

'Darling! How are you?'

'Fine.'

'I know it's a difficult situation.'

'Oh Dom. It is,' I say in relief and wonderment at Dom's ESP virtues.

'As I told you last night, I'm going to tell Isabel about us today. I promise,' he continues.

There is a pause. 'I am Isabel,' I say slowly, for my benefit as much as his.

This time the pause is on his end of the line. Eventually he says, 'Izzy?'

I look down at myself, just to double-check, and then say, 'Yes.'

'This is not your ringtone though. Where are you calling from?' he says in a strange voice.

But I'm not listening. I'm trying to think of someone whose voice he might have confused with mine.

I can only think of one person.

C h a p t e r  22

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'
D
om, can I see you for a minute?' I ask the second I clap eyes on him. Most of the family are sitting at the kitchen table playing cards and Harry has a huge pile of coins in front of him. They are playing with the big jam jar full of old pennies that we used to use when we were young. Mrs Delaney is bustling around in the background. Dom looks up from his hand of cards.

'Could it wait a second, Izz? Just until I've—'

'No, it couldn't.'

'We found Poppet!' trills Harry. Thank God for that, I was starting to fear for the life of the grasshopper in my chimney, not to mention my own. 'I found her upstairs! They gave me ten bob-a-jobs for it!'

'That's marvellous, Harry!'

Dominic follows me up the back stairs, along various corridors and into our bedroom. I swing around to face him. 'Dom, you could have told me.'

He looks sheepish and stares at his feet for a second. 'I was going to tell you that time in the garden but we were interrupted. You know, you sound exactly like each other on the phone. Uncanny.'

'How long has this been going on for?'

'About six weeks.'

'Six weeks!' Actually that does add up. 'I thought you were trying to tell me you were gay!'

His head whips up at this. 'Gay? Me?' I nod. He starts to swagger around. 'Why on earth would you think I was gay?'

'I thought you were going out with Aidan! He kept asking me how you were!'

'Well, Aidan kind of knew.'

'Aidan knew? Why would you tell him and not me?'

'I didn't tell him! We were at the Lacey-Steele function a few weeks ago. Do you remember it?'

I try to think back that far. 'Er, vaguely.'

'You'd only just broken up with Rob. You disappeared back to the office to collect something and I was on my mobile. Aidan grabbed it off me, thinking it was you, and then found out it wasn't. Only the person sounded very much like you. So I had to tell him.'

'I think he probably told Gerald too; they've both seemed obsessed with your health lately.'

'I don't look gay, do I?' Dom asks anxiously.

'It was just that, well, you dated all those girls and you didn't sleep with any of them!'

'Izzy, just because I'm nice and don't sleep around does not mean I'm gay! Besides, I slept with a couple of them.'

'Did you? Which ones?' I ask with interest.

He opens his mouth to reply and then, in the light of my relationship with his new amour, closes it again. 'So you thought I was trying to come out all this time, did you?'

'Cecily told me you were gay.'

'Cecily?' He sits down on the bed.

'Yes, I met her at a drinks party.'

'Oh God. Cecily. She invited me to have dinner at her house – it was one of those ghastly dates my aunt keeps setting me up with. At some point in the evening she must have decided she quite fancied me because when I popped off to have a pee I came back to find she'd taken her top off!'

'What? Her bra too?'

He giggles and nods. 'I mean, Christ! It was one hell of a shock! I didn't know what to do. I sat back down at the table and then she started to lean across it, tits dangling in the pavlova, and I panicked! Told her I was gay and had been trying to come out for years. I thought it was the only way I would get out of there alive! I didn't want to hurt her feelings and it was all pretty embarrassing anyway considering she was topless at the time. I asked her not to tell anyone because I hadn't officially come out yet. God, what were the chances of her meeting you?'

'What about when you pointed out boys you thought were good-looking?'

'I was just trying to divert your incredibly blinkered eyes away from Rob.'

'But why didn't you tell me about you and Sophie?'

'She's your sister! I thought you might be really funny about it.'

'I wondered why she'd been avoiding me lately.'

'I wanted to wait and see how serious it was before I said anything.'

'How serious is it?'

'Serious enough. And it was quite confusing; why do I fancy her and not you?'

'A good question.'

He looks amusingly uncomfortable. 'I don't know,' he says in a small voice.' 'Maybe because we know each other too well? Besides, you don't fancy me.' His voice gets stronger as he reaches dry land.

'Don't I?' I demand, unwilling to relinquish this point just yet.

'No. You don't.'

'You're right, I don't. How did it all start?'

'We got to know each other quite well through those weekends at Aunt Winnie's. Then, late one night when you'd gone to bed,' he shrugs and looks sheepish, 'we were chatting and … I don't know … we just started kissing and …'

'TOO MUCH INFORMATION!' I bellow, putting my hands over my ears.

He stops and grins. I tentatively take my hands away from my ears and walk over to the window. Sophie and Dom! Who would believe it? My eyes suddenly fill with tears and I wipe one away. Dom notices the movement and gets up and puts an arm around me. 'Now, don't tell me you're going to get upset about this.'

'I'm not upset, I'm happy for you.' I give him a hug. 'I think it's lovely. Strange but lovely. But why didn't you tell me?'

'I'm sorry I kept it from you. And I'm sorry that you had to find out like this. You've enough on your plate at the moment.'

My shoulders sag. 'How's the takeover going?'

'I don't know much, but everyone is very subdued. I only got back myself about an hour ago.'

There's a knock at the door. 'Izzy, dear!' booms Aunt Winnie from behind it.

I walk over and let her and Jameson in. 'Have you told her?' I ask Dom.

'Aunt Winnie!' he greets her. 'Don't get too excited but we're probably going to be related!'

'Bloody hell,' says Aunt Winnie faintly.

After several slugs from the cooking sherry, which I have to liberate from the kitchen while Mrs Delaney isn't looking, and several reassurances that it was Dominic and Sophie we were talking about rather than Dominic and me (although I'm not quite sure she wouldn't have preferred it the other way around), we finally manage to coax the revered old relative out of her trance-like state and away from the bottle.

'Did you want me for something, Aunt Winnie?' I ask.

'Oh! Just to say hello, and to see if you've spoken to your parents yet?'

'They're calling me back.'

'Make sure they do.' She gets up and walks over to the door. 'I'm going to find Monty' she says and marches out.

'Can I call you Mom?' Dominic shouts after her.

She turns and faces him at the door. 'You can call me something close, Dom. You can call me Ma'am. Like the Queen.'

The next few days pass in a haze. Rose and Mary seem to take up permanent residence at the house. While I wrestle with electricity supplies, stroppy performers and waiters who have suddenly had the opportunity of a lifetime to go to Africa and 'we wouldn't
mind
, would we?', Dominic oversees all the rehearsals and persuades the fireworks company that the site they've chosen really is too near to the house. I have no opportunity to talk to Simon as he is also working long hours on the takeover.

We're not the only ones who are run off our feet. Fred, the gardener, works from dawn till dusk to get the gardens looking as nice as possible. The plan is to have preliminary drinks on the back lawn if the weather permits. Mrs Delaney continues to cook madly every day, feeding not only the family but Simon's team of lawyers and accountants as well. I think Mr Delaney is still staying at the pub in the village; Harry and Mrs Delaney slipped out last night to meet him.