Cupcakes and Christmas: The Carrington’s Collection: Cupcakes at Carrington’s, Me and Mr. Carrington, Christmas at Carrington’s (31 page)

I spot Maxine striding through the room, closely followed by Walter. Guess Camille must still be in New York for Fashion Week. I draw a sharp breath and pray Maxine’s not sitting at our table. Luckily she stops at another one. Melissa appears from behind me and takes her seat, just about managing not to slosh her Guinness over the pristine white linen tablecloth. I take another mouthful of wine and see Tom looking at the seating plan before making his way over. He’s heading towards my table and that feeling I get whenever I set eyes on him surges straight through me again. Reaching the table he quickly checks the number and, after politely saying hello to each of us, he sits down.

Melissa nudges me hard, as if I haven’t noticed Tom sitting opposite me. I kick her back even harder under the table. She leans into me.

‘I could ride him like a stallion in the Grand National!’ She elbows me and I splutter wine.

‘Shush,’ I say, wiping my chin.

‘G, you are one lucky mare,’ she says, totally ignoring my pleas. ‘Tell me … when you were utterly spent after your first shag, were you like
fuuuck
?’

‘Err, not exactly, we haven—’

‘Shut uuup! I can practically touch the sexual tension between you two. Ever considered a threesome?’

The music stops and the bandmaster calls for our attention.

‘Ladies and Gentlemen, may I present Mr and Mrs Murphy?’ Then the whole room starts clapping and whistling. Everybody is standing up as the main doors fly open. Ciaran and Tina make their entrance. Tina’s head is held high, she has a smile on her face, but I’m sure I detect an aura of smugness at the corners of her eyes as she surveys the room on her way over to the podium. Ciaran is smiling too, but it isn’t his usual big grin; it’s as if he’s on autopilot. His body looks stiff and uncomfortable in the grey morning suit. They reach the podium and, after mounting the flight of steps, Ciaran sits down at the table. Embarrassingly, Tina stays standing, muttering something through gritted teeth as she attempts to keep the smile in place. Ciaran quickly jumps up and pulls the other chair out for her.

‘That’s my girl. Start as you mean to go on,’ a fat middle-aged man booms up from the table nearest to them.

The band starts up again and the food starts to arrive. Tom is busy chatting to an older, sensibly dressed woman, on his right-hand side. James is sipping wine, in between glancing over at me. I smile back at him and push the lobster ravioli starter around my plate, thinking about Maxine’s instruction and Tina’s threat again, I can’t decide what’s scarier. ‘I need to talk to you later,’ I whisper to Eddie, but he seems preoccupied and just nods quickly in response.

*

As the waiters clear the main course plates, Tina suddenly stands up and clicks her fingers towards the band. Realising it’s a cue to stop playing, the music peters out, ending with a lone cymbal crash that’s followed by an awkward silence.

‘Can I have everyone’s attention, please?’ Tina shouts, tapping the side of the microphone. ‘I know this is an unusual request as we haven’t actually got to the formal speeches part of this
dream
Valentine’s Day yet. But, I have to introduce a very important person.’ She pauses for a moment to scan the room, big smug smile still in place and head held high like she’s announcing the arrival of royalty. ‘Walter Davenport!’ She shoves the microphone under her arm and does a little clap, followed by a simpering giggle as we all crane to stare at him.

‘What’s going on?’ It’s the old man on our table and he’s practically shouting the words out.

‘Nothing dear. Just another one of those famous people. They’re everywhere these days,’ his wife says, before patting his tweed-jacketed arm. Then the fat beer-bellied man at the front table bellows, ‘Shuuushh. Our Tina is talking.’

‘Thank you Daddy,’ Tina continues, in a weird Baby Jane-style voice before treating her Dad to an air kiss.

I discreetly glance at my watch, wondering when the charade will be over, and notice Tom staring over in my direction. I smile at him. Tina’s shrill voice punctures my thoughts.

‘As I was saying. Walter has very kindly offered to say a few words, on today, the wedding day of two of his most …
senior
employees.’ Her eyes dart around the room again, as if she’s mentally challenging us to dare imply otherwise about her status within the store, especially as the boss is making a speech on her special day. She must be important. Ciaran looks up at her, his face expressionless and distant, as though he’s watching by satellite. Walter stands up, looking a little awkward and unprepared, and a band member rushes another microphone over to him.

‘Well, I’ll start by congratulating Ciaran, and of course, err …’ There’s another awkward silence. I take Melissa’s untouched wine glass and swallow a big mouthful.

‘Oh get on with it,’ Eddie mutters under his breath.

‘The new Mrs Murphy,’ Walter continues, and we all breathe a sigh of relief.

Tom catches my eye. I glance at him, wishing I could tell him what Maxine wants me to do. He smiles back, making himself look even more adorable.

‘Yes, marriage is a wonderful institution,’ Walter continues, amid a discreet round of sniggers from some of the Carrington’s staff. I sneak a look at Maxine and catch her smirking and eyeing up a guy sitting opposite her. ‘Yes, Ciaran is a fine fellow, a real man’s man.’

‘Sweet Jesus, could he milk the moment any more?’ Eddie whispers in my ear.

Ciaran looks embarrassed and lowers his eyes downwards. He runs a finger along the inside of his collar before draining his glass and reaching out to the bottle for a refill. Tina flashes him a look just as he’s about to take another mouthful, and he puts the glass back down.

Walter regales on how Ciaran did us proud last year at the retail industry rugby bonanza, before asking us all to raise our glasses again to the lovely couple. He sits down and Tina’s dad hauls himself up into a standing position.

After pumping Walter’s hand and slapping him too hard on the back, Tina’s dad attempts a little jog up the stairs to the podium.

‘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.

T
he 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 face. The silence is pointed.

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