Dream a Little Dream (13 page)

Liza opened her door to find a shivering blond devil wrapped tightly in a red shiny cloak on her doorstep. ‘Bit old for trick or treating, aren’t you?’

The devil clutched his wired and padded red-satin tail against a sudden gust of raw October wind that caught his cloak to allow her a glimpse of a bare chest beneath. He glared from under knobbly black horns affixed somehow in his hair. ‘You’re wearing jeans! Are we going to be the only morons to turn up in fancy dress?’

If the devil on her doorstep had never expressed interest in The Stables, she would probably have got the lease for a song – rather than the figure Nicolas had come up with, more the price of an entire music shop – so Liza toyed with letting him think that, yes, he was going to be that moron. But as Rochelle would have a hissy fit if Dominic turned red satin tail and ran from her Halloween party, she shrugged into her cosy ski jacket and swallowed her malice. ‘My costume’s at Rochelle’s. We’re going as the three witches of Macbeth.’ She stepped out of her house and halted, staring in dismay at the black hulk drawn up to the kerb. ‘That’s not your car, is it? It’s a tank!’

Dominic opened the rear car door. ‘Kenny will drive there and the roads will be empty by the time you drive us home. Just get in, Liza. I’m freezing my horns off.’

Slowly, Liza slid into the black interior. ‘Wow. It’s huge.’

‘Music to the ears of any man,’ declared a voice, and Liza saw that there was another devil in the driver’s seat, a devil with hair the golden brown of muscovado sugar, twisting in his seatbelt to gaze at her. ‘Hi, I’m Kenny. Dominic didn’t mention that you’re a supermodel.’

Diverted from rising panic over the prospect of driving what seemed to her a stretch limo, Liza grinned. ‘I think they’re taller. But thanks.’

Dominic groaned theatrically as he leapt into the front passenger seat and slammed the door. ‘Just drive, Captain Bullshit.’

Kenny didn’t shift his smouldering gaze from Liza. ‘Know what, Doc? If Liza’s driving back later, I think she ought to sit in the front, so she can get a better feel for the car.’

Aggravation burning over the lease, Liza agreed sweetly. ‘That’s a good idea.’

‘No, it’s not,’ growled Dominic. ‘Drive.’

Calmly, Kenny turned off the ignition and folded his arms. ‘Move to the back, Doc, or we’re going nowhere.’

By the time they arrived at Rochelle’s, Liza felt a smidgeon more cheerful. Dominic had glowered through all of Kenny’s jokes, making her feel that by pinching the front seat she’d made him pay, in some petty way, for his inconvenient desire for The Stables. They climbed out of the car and music thrummed down to the street.

Kenny executed a few hip-hop steps on the pavement. ‘I hear a party.’

Dominic just wrapped his cloak and tail around himself silently whilst Liza, who knew the code, got them through the main entrance door.

At the top of the stairs, Rochelle’s front door was propped open by a vampire distributing glasses of red wine. ‘Bat’s blood?’ he offered, thickly, around his fangs, raising his voice against the racket emanating from behind him. Then to Liza, severely, ‘You don’t get any until you’re properly dressed. Only people in cool Halloween costumes are entitled.’

Behind the fangs, Liza recognised Jack, one of Rochelle’s workmates, young and biddable, which was probably how he’d ended up manning the door. She kissed his cheek, careful of his make-up, which smelled of cold cream and powder. ‘Make sure these guys get a drink, then.’ Dominic and Kenny had certainly earned their bat’s blood, red Lycra-covered legs and black boots showing below their cloaks, tridents in their hands and pointy tails bobbing behind them. ‘Where’s Rochelle? She’s got my— Whoa! Cool witchy costume, Rochelle.’ Her friend, appropriately magically, appeared from the crowd. Her madly tousled blonde hair, short black dress and star-spattered pointed hat was teamed with a shimmering black cloak, silver-tipped wand and spike-heeled, lace-back PVC thigh boots. ‘I suppose you know that Macbeth’s witches are meant to be ugly?’

Rochelle assumed her prettiest pout. ‘I’m sure Shakespeare would be the first to grant poetic licence. But, erm, Liza – there was a problem with your costume. You have got one,’ she added, quickly. ‘You just can’t be a witch, because the dress we’d reserved came in needing repair. But I’ve got you something so cool. You’ll look so hot. It’s in my bedroom, on the hanger behind the door.’

Dominic followed Kenny into the party, turning his shoulders to ease between werewolves and wizards, welcoming the warm fug of crowded bodies after the dismal chill of outdoors, letting his eardrums relax against the clamour of voices raised over loud music. Angie, wearing the twin to Rochelle’s cutie-sexy witch costume but with ankle boots, paused in handing out a plate of chocolate witch hats. ‘You made it!’

‘Just got here. This is Kenny,’ Dominic shouted.

Angie batted her eyelashes at Kenny when he kissed her cheek, and introduced the nearest partygoers: two skeletons, a heavily bandaged invisible man, a few zombies, vampires of both genders, a pretty woman dressed as a bat and having trouble with her oversized wings, Sick Superman, Undead Barbie and Willie Wonka’s evil twin. Undead Barbie, with blood-matted blonde hair, sultry blue lips and a push-up black bra that was doing a heroic job with her major assets, made an instant hit with Kenny. Dominic looked around, not really listening to Kenny’s enthusiastic launch into tales of white-water rafting and abseiling, all the more impressive for being true.

Evidently, Rochelle took Halloween seriously. Pumpkin lanterns burned on tables, hairy spiders descended from light fittings, a noose dangled in the hall-slash-alcove that housed doors to other rooms. So many people were sardined together that he had to hook up his tail to prevent it being stepped on. Now he knew why Crosswind carried his straight up in the air.

Angie fought her way back, this time with white marshmallow ghosts and dough witches’ fingers, complete with flaked almond fingernails. ‘Where’s Liza?’ she shouted over the music.

‘Think she went off to change,’ he shouted back.

She nodded. ‘Have you finished your bat’s blood? There’s wizard’s brew in the kitchen.’

‘What’s in it?’

‘Vodka, lime and apple juice. Or there’s dragon’s puke, if you prefer. It’s mainly advocaat, with chopped up jalapeño peppers in it.’ She wrinkled her nose. ‘It’s a bit ick, to be honest, but Rochelle thought it would be funny. Last year we did dragon’s diarrhoea, with Tia Maria and chocolate Angel Delight, but nobody would touch it.’

‘No?’ He pulled a face of mock astonishment, and Angie giggled as she turned to offer others the ghosts and witches’ fingers. She threaded her way through the throng and Dominic accepted a mission to secure wizard’s brew for himself, Kenny and Undead Barbie. Liza still hadn’t reappeared when he returned, drinks held high to avoid the worst of the jostling. He’d left off his watch as it didn’t really go with Lycra leggings and a cloak, but it seemed as if she’d been gone a long time. He’d planned to grab a quiet word with her but, at this rate, the party would be over before he managed it.

Suddenly, Rochelle was in front of him. ‘Love the devil costume. You wear it well.’

The room was getting warm and he’d pushed his cloak back over his shoulders, finally feeling the benefit of an outfit that bared his chest. ‘Glad you recognised the devilishness. My cousin’s three-year-old said I look like red Batman.’ He let his gaze drop. ‘Love your costume, too.’ Her dress was tighter and shorter than Angie’s and she filled it more … well, just more.

‘Good,’ she said, complacently, ‘that’s the idea.’ And she began to ask about his nascent business project, drawing her head close to hear his answers, taking his arm, skin on skin, so they wouldn’t be parted by people buffeting past. He liked Rochelle; she looked great and was funny and direct. Her bright eyes were emitting a primary radar signal of interest and appreciation and there was no reason that he shouldn’t bounce it right back at her. He could forget Liza Reece, refuse to be sucked in by her blue eyes and curvy little body, and enjoy being with someone who wasn’t afraid to show interest in him.

Breathing in the mixed scents of woman, apple juice and vodka, he tilted his head to dodge the brim of her hat and catch Rochelle’s artfully artless suggestion that they should meet up for dinner some time so he could tell her more about his plans. She produced her phone from the belt of her dress. ‘Put your number into my mobile, then I’ll ring you and you’ll have mine.’

But, as he reached for her phone, he glanced over her shoulder. And a ton of hot lead hit him in the chest.

Liza was stalking towards them looking totally, murderously pissed off. But, also, absolutely mouth-watering in a tight black-and-gold striped fuzzy strapless dress with some kind of voluptuous black bulbous thing around her behind, and stiff transparent wings. Dominic heard himself make a noise in the back of his throat. Behind him, Kenny went, ‘Wow!’

Liza glared people out of her way, eyes of ice daring anyone to comment. ‘Rochelle!’ she hissed, when she reached them. ‘What the fucking hell am I supposed to be? Some kind of insect slut?’

Rochelle gurgled. ‘You’re a hornet! Isn’t it amazing? I knew only you’d be small enough to get into it. And if you knew how hot you look, you’d be sending me a thank-you card. Doesn’t she look hot?’ she appealed to Dominic and Kenny.

‘Yes,’ they croaked.

Dominic cleared his throat. ‘So what’s with the thing at the back?’

Liza half-turned to exhibit the black rubber bulb around her buttocks. ‘I think that’s my abdomen and stinger. This dress takes short to a new level, Rochelle! It’s so tight and rubbery, it’s like wearing an innertube. And about as comfortable.’

Rochelle gave a bewildered shrug. ‘But, Liza. You. Look. Hot.’

‘Let’s get you a drink, and then you’ll get in the party spirit.’ Kenny offered Liza his arm. ‘Wizard’s brew, bat’s blood or dragon’s puke?’

‘Water.’

Kenny looked horrified. ‘What’s that?’

She grinned, reluctantly. ‘Comes out of a tap. It’s what I drink. That’s how come you can drink wizard’s brew and I can drive Dominic’s tank home.’

‘Actually, that works for me.’ He pulled her hand through his arm and steered her off towards the kitchen, leaving Dominic to be mesmerised as her abdomen and stinger wiggled away. He flicked his cloak back around himself. Men in tights had to be discreet.

The room just got fuller and fuller. Noisier and noisier. Hotter and hotter.

Liza, though hardly able to breathe, got used to allowing room for the wings and stinger that formed the least comfortable parts of the clinging costume. Kenny was intent on impressing her with his American adventures. Nearby, Dominic cast her the occasional unreadable look, trident resting negligently on his shoulder, tail hooked fetchingly over one arm. She tried not to look at his chest, luminous, naked and sculptured in the light produced by the dozens of candles and lamps that Rochelle deemed suitable to the occasion. His cloak fell red and sinuous down his back and she was getting the full effect of the Lycra skimming his hips and … things, before it disappeared into knee-high black boots. People accepted making fools of themselves as part of the Halloween fancy dress fun. But Dominic didn’t look foolish. ‘Awesome’ was the word that kept flashing across her mind.

Kenny was dressed almost exactly like Dominic. He was good-looking, with his outdoor tan, told fantastic stories about his time in the States and even demonstrated his social graces by remembering to ask her about herself. But he didn’t look awesome. ‘So,’ she asked, idly, ‘why do you call Dominic “Doc”?’

Kenny leaned closer so that she caught the sweet/sour smell of wizard’s brew on his breath. ‘When we were kids, we had to have our initials on school stuff and he’s Dominic Osborne Christy. But, also, ’cos he’s just too fucking clever.’ He beamed, as if he expected to be congratulated on drawing the conclusion. ‘He always was clever, right through school. Much cleverer than me.’ And he began on a stream of memories and anecdotes of the days when young Dominic, Kenny and Miranda had scuffed along to school together, ‘Although Miranda was the year above, and bossy,’ and how he and Dominic had vied for the school sports prizes. ‘Dominic, he’s good for a sprint. But I can stay the distance.’ A big, lascivious wink.

Liza didn’t react. ‘And did you know Natalie?’ It was only polite to keep the conversational ball rolling. It wasn’t that she was curious about Dominic’s ex …

He threw back his cloak and staggered slightly. ‘Natalie? She was always going to let him down. But how do you tell someone something like that?’ And he steered the conversation back to his experiences on North Carolina wilderness trails, eyes blurring as he sucked down wizard’s brew.

Liza let her attention wander. Candles were guttering, now, their growing and shrinking shadows emphasising the wobbliness of some of the drinkers. She came back to herself with a jolt when Kenny hooked his hand around her waist, causing the stupid wire of the wings to bite into her flesh.

‘Ow!’ She grabbed the fabric to counter the weight.

Kenny moved in, dipping his head. Over the noise, she caught the end of a sentence: ‘—as sexy as you.’

Oh … don’t think so! On full unwanted-kiss-alert, she jammed her free hand against his chest and pushed, but met the human wall of shoulders behind her, making the wings jab her from a new angle. ‘
Ow
! Kenny—’

‘Would now be a good time to talk?’

Her head whipped around. Like a ninja in Lycra, Dominic had appeared beside her. Thankfully, she pried off Kenny’s arm. ‘Yes, now would be great.’

‘Doc! Dom!’ protested Kenny, swaying chummily up against Liza.

But Dominic somehow turned himself into a barrier with Liza one side and Kenny the other, allowing her to make a getaway. Once in the tiny hall alcove, where the temperature was a degree cooler and the noise a decibel less, she paused to let him catch up. The doors to the kitchen and bathroom stood open, the one to Rochelle’s bedroom was shut, a stern notice declaring the room
Strictly out of bounds. Trespassers will be sent home
.