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Authors: Nicola Yeager

BOOK: Picture Imperfect
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“Look, Kate, I can’t just leave the restaurant without
a chef on duty. It’s my responsibility, you know that. You’ll be fine with all
your work mates and friends,” he cajoled, “I know you’ll have a great time.”

But the hurt and disappointment was raging though her
and losing her usual control she snapped, “But it’s my big night and you
promised me nothing would stop you from being there. I mean, it’s The Savoy and
the tickets cost a fortune, and I have my new black cocktail dress…” she tailed
off seething inside.

“Bloody hell, Kate, I’ve more things on my mind than
new dresses,” he shouted, “I’ll give you the money for the damn tickets!”

Tears of dismay were pricking at the back of her eyes.
She couldn’t believe he wasn’t coming and letting her down again.

“Look, I’ll make it up to you later,” he crooned. “And
keep your new dress on so I can see it when I get home.”

Her mouth was dry with anxiety and she only managed to
click her tongue in amazement at his patronising tone.

The noise from the kitchen faded and he said softly,
“Oh, come-on, you’ll still enjoy yourself. Just make an excuse about work
pressures for me and then give them my apologies.”

You can grovel as much as you want, she thought lifting
her chin in defiance, but you’re not getting the upper hand. She managed to
clear her throat and speak in a calm but detached voice. “I’m sick to death of
making excuses for you, Tim,” she said clicking her mobile off.

Her hand trembled while she poured herself a glass of
wine. How could he, she raged, he’d actually gone back on his word again. The
night had been planned for months and it was supposed to be her chance to
impress the new management bosses from the company - everyone was making a
special effort to attend the party to launch the new advertising campaign.
Well, everyone except Tim of course. She’d imagined herself in the classy
cocktail dress walking serenely with her arm through his, chatting confidently
and making polite conversation whilst sipping champagne.

But now she’d have to walk around on her own, she
seethed and glared at his happy smiling face in the framed photograph on her
dressing table. ‘You knew how important this night was to me,’ she hissed and
slammed the photograph face down. She took another mouthful of wine for Dutch
courage and felt a surge of determination sweep through her - she wasn’t going
to let him ruin her night, by God, she wasn’t, she’d go to the party on her own
and shine like she’d never shone before.

 
Looking into the
mirror she swept blusher majestically across her cheeks and admired the
hairdresser’s handy-work with her usual brown mousey hair. The cut was
excellent making the long bob swing effortlessly when she moved her head from
side-to-side and the vibrant dark brown colour emphasised her hazel eyes. With
a final nod of satisfaction she decided her make-up was as good as she was
going to get it and swivelled around on the stool to look at the dress,
remembering the day she’d bought it with her friend, Lisa.

They’d been in Selfridges at the end of an exhausting
four hour shopping trip and just when she was about to give up she’d spotted
it. Plain black crepe in a sleeveless classic style, the dress fitted her
figure perfectly from the moment she slipped it over her head and wriggled it
down over her slim hips.

“Even the two inch length above my knee is perfect for
me,” she’d said to Lisa who’d nodded in agreement.

“It’s just right,
hon
,” Lisa
had said, “Because although you want to show off those lovely slim, tanned legs
you don’t want to look like a slapper in a mini dress. Yep, it’s simple, yet
chic, and just the thing to impress the bosses.”

Katie had hugged her in thanks and then later when her
other close friend, Sarah, joined them she had loaned her a fine string of
pearls and pearl stud ear rings which complemented the outfit perfectly.

Picking her mobile up
she
pressed Lisa’s number.

“Hey, there,” Lisa said. “How’s the dress look?”

Katie moaned and told her what had happened, and then
held the mobile at a distance ready for the blast of derisory comments.

“The bastard!”
Lisa fumed.
“What the hell is going on with this guy?”

In the past she would have defended Tim to the end of
her days but now she simply couldn’t find the strength anymore. “I don’t know,”
she said. “Within the last two months alone he’s missed his parent’s silver
wedding, my cousins’ engagement, and Sarah’s thirtieth birthday party, and
that’s without arrangements to meet after work to see a film or go to the quiz
nights at the pub.”

She could hear the pathetic whine in her voice and
struggled to keep the lump in the back of her throat down. She pleaded, “What
am I going to do, Lisa?”

Lisa’s voice changed instantly as she went into full
support mode. “OK. At the moment you’ll do nothing. You’re going to get to that
party and knock the socks off them. And then on Saturday we’ll meet with Sarah
for lunch and talk it through together and try to sort this crap out.”

Katie swallowed hard and took a deep breath. “You,
know, I could kill him for doing this to me at such short notice, Lisa, and
what makes it worse is that if I’d known he wasn’t coming earlier, either you
or Sarah could have come instead of wasting £150 for the ticket.”
 

Lisa giggled. “Oh, sweetheart, I would have done but I
have a hot date with this gorgeous guy who’s just to-die-for…”

Katie smiled. “And Sarah is out with Mark, too,” she
said. “So, I’ll just have to go to the ball like Cinderella and make the best
of it.”

“Tsk,” Lisa
tutted
. “But you
don’t need him. I’ll admit he would have been an asset to have by your side
because he is so passionate about food and it does make him charming to talk to
but you’ll be fine on your own, won’t you?”

Katie took another deep breath and reassured with
Lisa’s support she agreed she’d be OK with as much conviction as she could
muster.

“Of course, you will,” Lisa replied firmly, “I mean,
you’ve slogged for eight years since you joined the company as a junior and now
look at you, a fantastic team leader ready to step up to the project manager’s
position. You can do this job standing on your head and as for selling
yourself, well…”

Katie grinned at her friend’s confidence in her. Lisa
Harding worked in PR and everyone they knew reckoned she was the best at what
she did. Lack of confidence wasn’t even on Lisa’s radar and if anyone knew how
to pitch themselves it was her. Katie wished her luck with the new guy and then
listened to another round of instructions: shoulders back, smile on your face,
and knock ‘
em
dead.

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.

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