The Spa Day (10 page)

Draining her glass of wine she thought fondly of Lisa
who had the knack of turning a bad situation around so that you always came
away feeling better, and then realising the taxi was due she slipped the dress
on. She smoothed her hands over her hips and for a moment saw herself how she
hoped Tim would have seen her, generous breasts with a tiny waist and slim shapely
legs. But sadly that wasn’t going to happen tonight. A sudden idea of charging
into the restaurant’s kitchen and showing him exactly what he was missing and
then throwing his tuxedo at him or into a pan of boiling soup flashed into her
mind, but this would only make her look foolish. Grinning with the thought of
how much it would embarrass him though she grabbed her clutch bag, pushed her
feet into black patent heels and ran out of the apartment.
  

Daylight was fading and the bright street lights heralded
the start of London’s busy night-life as the taxi manoeuvred its way along the
Strand. Throngs of people spilled out of restaurants and hotels onto the
pavements as the juggling mixture of buses, cars, and bicycles fought their way
into positions. The window of the taxi was pulled half-way down and the noise
of people laughing and shouting filled Katie’s quiet space while she shuffled
trying to pull her dress further down because her legs were sticking to the
plastic cover on the seat. She thought of how much Tim would have enjoyed the
buzz and laid her hand on the empty space on the seat – she missed him being
next to her.

What was she going to do about their relationship? She
groaned silently, it was petering-out fast and she didn’t know how to get it back
on track. They’d been so happy living together in the apartment for nearly
fourteen months now, or at least she had. But, maybe he wasn’t and wanted
something more or someone else? Shaking the bad vibes from her mind she
promised herself she wouldn’t think of it again until she got home.

The party was held in The Lancaster Room at the Savoy
and Katie marvelled at the interior. The website had described it’s décor as
‘sparkling with timeless elegance and glamour’ and when she walked into the
room she decided they had it in a nutshell. Although it was a large room with
high ceilings, it was warm and she gazed upwards at the glittering lights from
four huge chandeliers while listening to the quiet soft notes of Gershwin’s
music. It was the ideal choice for the party because it had a clear floor space
for dancing and even a small stage where the chief executive would make his
speech to open the new advertising campaign. She walked through the room from
the tall white Art Deco doors and spotted her two junior technologists, Harry
and Alice who were looking at the seating plan pinned to a clip board and she
called out a greeting.

Alice smiled sheepishly at her with excited bright
eyes. “Is my dress OK?” she asked Katie nervously.

Katie knew this was Alice’s first big function with the
company and was determined to enjoy herself but at the same time didn’t want to
let the department down in any way.

“It’s perfect, Alice,” she said hugging her warmly.

Harry stepped forward and kissed Katie’s cheek. “And
will I do?” he asked her, grinning broadly in his black tuxedo and freshly
gel-spiked hair. He was only twenty one and fresh out of University but she
loved his open, sincere personality and eagerness to learn.

“It’ll do very nicely,” she said beaming back at him.

Waitresses and waiters in the obligatory black skirts
and trousers with clean white shirts wandered amongst groups of people with
trays of champagne flutes and Katie inhaled the heady mixture of strong female
perfumes.

“I think we are sitting at table six,” Harry said as
they helped themselves to a glass of champagne and manoeuvred their way in
between round tables covered with white tablecloths and gilded chairs with
cream upholstery. Table six was towards the back of the room and they found
their names on place cards propped up in front of white linen napkins, and
silver and blue decorations. A silver candelabrum stood in the centre of the
table with three white candles and Harry lit them while Alice delightedly
fingered her card which had a blue background and her name in silver print.

Excitedly Alice squeezed Katie’s arm and looked in
wonderment around the table.
 
“Oh, isn’t
it all just beautiful?”

“It certainly is,” Katie agreed while counting ten
tables strategically placed around the room. “I just wish we could have been on
a table nearer the front.”

Awestruck, Alice whispered, “Well, we couldn’t expect
to be sitting at the management tables.”

Katie sipped her champagne thoughtfully. “Of course we
couldn’t,” she said, but looked longingly at table three where ten of the
company’s project managers were seated and gritted her teeth in determination -
she would get her name card onto that table next year if it was the last thing
she did.

The room buzzed now with more colleagues arriving and
loud greetings with the expected air kissing of cheeks, and by eight o’clock
there was only one remaining empty seat at their table, which of course was the
seat meant for Tim.

Oh, God, here we go again, she thought smiling brightly
and explaining Tim’s absence for the third time in only fifteen minutes.
Irritatingly, she knew as long as the chair remained empty it would continue
all night - and then as if she’d been sent a gift from heaven her senior food
technologist, Frances, arrived.

Frances was an old hippie. She was nearly forty with
wild, uncontrollable, frizzy ginger hair, protruding grey eyes that often
looked as if they were standing out on stalks, and was very overweight.

“
Hiya
,” Katie said pulling
out the spare chair for her, “I thought you would be sitting with your sister
on the other table?”

“Oh, I’m supposed to be but she’s driving me mad
already and they’re all such boring farts in HR and finance…”

Katie laughed at her when she explained again how Tim
couldn’t make it, Francis plonked herself down onto the empty chair. “Great, I
can sit here with you guys and have a laugh,” she said winking at Harry and
Alice.

Katie likened Frances to a whirlwind in the office
where she worked in complete and utter chaos. Her area was always in a mess and
Katie often had to beg her to tidy up to which Frances would inevitably throw a
big squashy arm around Katie, guffaw with laughter and tell her to chill out.
Frances was without a doubt the kindest, most sincere person Katie had ever met
and she knew she gave the team an older but steadying balance that it needed.

Frances tapped her arm. “Pass that bottle of champagne,
Katie,” she said laughing. “And let’s get this party really started.”

Giggling, Katie filled Francis’s glass and watched her
knock back half the wine in one go, while young Alice stared at her in
surprise.

“Now,” Frances said. “Before I get too inebriated I
have to tell you something I found out about the project manager’s role.”

Katie leaned towards her in anticipation. Her CV and
application form were already submitted for the job and Francis’s sister,
Susan, who worked in personnel might know how many other candidates had
applied.

Francis licked her lips and then hiccupped. “Well,
apparently there’s only one other applicant who will be asked for interview and
she’s only got four years of experience,” she said squeezing Katie’s hand with
encouragement.

Digesting the news Katie said excitedly, “But I’ve got
twice as much as that!”

“Yep, I think you’re going to walk it, my lovely,”
Francis said grinning. “And I can’t think of anyone else that deserves it more
- sounds like a done-deal to me.”

“Oh, I hope so, Francis,” she said, “I know I’ll be a
good project manager. And I want it so much I can just about taste it!”

Francis laughed. “Well, here comes our starter, let’s
taste these fabulous prawns instead.”
 

The fresh seafood smell was divine and Katie’s mouth
watered in anticipation. “These prawns are delicious, they’re so succulent and
sweet,” she exclaimed. Francis nodded her head in agreement with her mouth full
and then lapsed into contented silence while she gave the food her undivided
attention.

Once the meal was finished the chief executive stood on
the stage and an automatic respectful silence fell upon the room. He was a
chubby man in his late fifties with a bald head that the light seemed to
twinkle on, almost as though it had been polished for the special occasion. He
explained how well they were doing against their retail competitors and the
layout of the new campaign while Katie listened avidly hanging upon his every
word. It was all very exciting and ideas started to race around in her mind.

The business unit manager for her department, David
Shaw, stood up to speak next and boasted about the increase in his sections
sales. “And, in particular, I’d like to mention the dessert section which has
increased our sales this year by nearly 60% which is largely due to Katie
Wilkinson and her team,” he said proudly smiling across at Katie.

Her heart soared with happiness and she could feel her
cheeks flush as everyone turned to look at them and began to clap. Katie
grinned back at everyone and then silently mouthed the words, ‘thank you’ at
Francis, Harry, and Alice for all their hard work.

When the speeches were over she stood next to David,
discussing some of his new ideas and while she was making sure he knew that she
was one hundred per cent behind the campaign, the chief executive approached
them with a young man she hadn’t seen before. He was tall and slim with a slick
young Tom Cruise look about him and wore a ‘look at me I’m stinking rich and
don’t I know it’, expression on his face.

“David!” the chief exec boomed in his loud penetrating
voice and shook his hand vigorously, “I’d like to introduce my nephew, Alex.”

David’s face flushed with the recognition, and the
friendly greeting - he shook Alex’s hand.

Katie gave the chief exec her warmest smile as David
said in reply, “This is Katie Wilkinson, my product development team leader in
the dessert section.”

Alex reached across his uncle to take her hand and
grasped it so roughly that she almost squealed with shock. He was squeezing her
hand so hard she felt her pearl ring digging into her little finger.

“Alexander Jennings,” he said staring intently at her
and for one split-second Katie could see in his eyes that he knew just how much
pain he was causing to her fingers. Defiantly she met his intense stare and
without losing his eye contact she managed to slide her hand out of his
vice-like grip. While David was talking to them both she put her hands behind
her back and rubbed her stinging finger. Although she felt like wincing in
pain, the smile she’d plastered to her face never flagged.

Alex asked. “So you must be the sweet stuff in the
section, are you?”

Katie’s mind raced, who was this guy and what on earth
was he doing here? She realised the chief exec was staring at her and David was
staring at Alex with a mixture of puzzlement and apprehension.

“Sweet stuff. Dessert? Get it?” Alex asked and the
three men laughed loudly at the pathetic pun. She could tell David’s laughter
was mixed with relief that Katie hadn’t been affronted by the sexist
connotations in the comment and that she hadn’t retaliated, and she knew the
chef exec was probably too old and naïve to understand the hidden insult. As
Alex bored them all with tales from his time at Cambridge University she
wondered where he worked and why the chief exec had brought him - he looked
more suited to posing in adverts for Calvin Klein boxer shorts than working in
food retail. Maybe he worked for one of their competitors like Marks &
Spencer or Waitrose she wondered, and found herself staring uncontrollably at
him.

In between her and Alex a young waitress with trembling
hands managed to topple two glasses of champagne on her tray, and while Katie
smiled reassuringly at her and helped her upturn one of the glasses, she
noticed Alex sneering arrogantly at the young girl as though she was a piece of
dirt under his shoe.

Hmm, what an idiot he really was, she thought, and for
the first time that night she was pleased Tim wasn’t with her because he
wouldn’t have been able to hide his contempt for this guy. It wasn’t often she
took an instant dislike to anyone but she had with Alex and was pleased when,
with a joke from the chef exec about how he was trying to get Alex to join the
company and make them all pots of lovely money, they said their farewells and
moved away to talk to another group of managers. Katie and David were stunned
into an uncomfortable silence with neither of them wanting to say exactly what
was on their minds. So, mumbling about getting a proper drink of whisky, David
headed off to the bar and she re-joined her friends at the table.

After dancing, drinking her fill of champagne, and
smiling until her cheeks ached she said to Francis, “Gosh, it’s nearly
midnight. I’m going to get a taxi and make a push for home. I don’t want too
much of a hang-over in the morning. Can I drop you off first?”

Francis had just returned from the dance floor with
Harry where she’d been trying to teach him a jive. Failing miserably they’d had
everyone laughing hysterically. Her face was bright red with the exertion and
she was sweating profusely, the sleeves on her flowing kaftan-style dress had
ridden up exposing her fat puffy arms and Katie gently patted them back down
into place.

Heaving in and out she tried to catch her breath. “No,
Katie, I’m OK, thanks. Think I’ll cool down a little and have another drink,”
she said gulping down a glass of water.

As Katie waited in the foyer overlooking the
spectacular view of the Thames she felt her exuberant mood flatten, thinking
about Tim, and when she climbed into the back of the taxi it dawned upon her
that probably for the first time since they’d met she wasn’t actually looking
forward to seeing him. She sank gratefully into the seat and rested her head
back, silently groaning at the thought of the inevitable argument that would
take place later where she’d accuse him of letting her down again and he’d
chant out the same old excuses. This wasn’t how it was supposed to be and it
certainly wasn’t like this in all the chick-lit novels she read. The heroines
in the books were full of spirit and determination to fight for their men, and
a couple of months ago she too had been like that. But now, after trying to
hang-on in there, all she felt was bone-weary. Pep talks from Lisa and Sarah
about how Bridget Jones wouldn’t roll over and accept Tim’s bad behaviour made
her smile and when the taxi pulled up outside their apartment she took a deep
breath to bolster herself for what lay ahead, paid the driver and entered their
front door.