Seductive Viennese Whirl (8 page)

"Um, hello," I say through a mouthful of pie. Tonight they're in pale blue tunic tresses, their hair held back with matching blue ribbons. Poppy looks like Alice in Wonderland while Citronella looks like Alice reflected in one of those distorted mirrors you get at fairs, a grinning head adrift in a sea of chiffon.

"Super party," says Poppy.

"Super," echoes Citronella. "Appalling business with those people outside though. Fancy being against hunting." She snorts. "I've been going to the hunt since I was three and it's never done me any harm. Everyone knows foxes are dreadful, filthy little things who eat the farmer's chickens."

Someone next to me chimes in with, "I absolutely agree. So glad you two could make it." It's the Haddock. I should have known she'd be here, after all, she's never been one to pass on an opportunity to suck up to clients. "Those people are such pests. I do hope none of them manage to sneak up and cause a fuss."

At that point, one of the tartan girls thrusts a tray of drinks under my nose. I grab a glass of whiskey and take a sip.

"It's me," whispers Eva, from beneath a red wig, and pulls me away. I look back longingly at the remains of my pie. "Lovely to see you both again," I say to the Smuckbeckers.

"I didn't invite you here so you could spend all evening chatting with those dreary Smuckbecker twins," she hisses, steering me through a crowd of squawking young women. "I'm sick to death of you moping around the house night after night. It's high time you got back in the saddle. And there's someone here who I think would be just perfect. He's a wine buyer for Harvey Nichols."

"I'm not sure," I mumble, gulping down my drink. She thrusts me forward until I'm eyeball to eyeball with a stuffed deer, its glassy gaze reminding me of the Haddock.

"This is Kate, who I was telling you about," says Eva, tugging me away from the deer. "And this is Sten." I take in six feet of pale pink suit, a fuchsia coloured tie, tan face and a brilliant white smile. Ruffled blond hair and hazel eyes complete the package. He's a tad overweight, but then, so am I, so what's the big deal? I know you're thinking that suit sounds vile. And while I would generally agree with you, Sten carries it off with a great deal of panache.

He steps forward and pumps my hand. I'm about the same height as the knot in his tie, so I take a few steps back, in order to be able to see his face properly.

"So you're the copywriter for the pies, eh? They're the business. I've had six already."

"Well, it pays the bills. But wine's my real passion," I blurt, remembering my New Year's resolution to get a job in food or wine.

"Amazing dress," he says running his forefinger along the neck, letting it dip for a moment in my cleavage."

"What?" I squeak, a little unsettled.

"Your dress, it really elongates you."

"I thought I looked like a stick of rock."

"Nonsense. You look divine. Quite the Audrey Hepburn in
Breakfast at Tiffany's
. Calvin Klein?"

He goes over to a table beside him and picks up two glasses of white wine.

"How did you know?" I say, amazed.

He chuckles. "Because the tag's hanging out at the back."

I tuck it in, mortified, and am about to take a big gulp from my glass when he places his hand over mine and says, "Wait."

I'm staring up into his eyes, which are nut brown and flecked with gold. "This stuff needs to be savoured, not gulped down like cheap plonk. It's one of a bunch I brought back from a jaunt to South Africa. I'm still undecided about which ones we're going to stock. Tell me what you think." He sticks his nose into his glass and sniffs. It seems impolite not to do the same.

He's emitting little whimpers from the back of his throat, which, I'm embarrassed to say, set my imagination racing. I'm just getting into a fantasy about me and Sten, buck naked and going at it on top of a hay bale when suddenly I realize he's staring at me intently.

"What a fragrant nose," he says and I blush. Despite the fact that I do have rather a cute nose I'm all embarrassed.

"I don't know about that."

"You don't agree?" He looks puzzled. I'm about to tell him that I take compliments badly when he holds up his hand and sticks his nose back in the glass.

"No, no, you're absolutely right. This has a woody nose. With the amount of wine I test all day my sense of smell gets jaded. You seem to know your stuff. Have you ever thought of a career in the wine business?"

"Well actually, now you come to mention it—" He sips at the wine, swills it around his mouth and swallows. I do the same. "So many of the recent crop have finished short. But this is definitely …" "Long?" I venture.

He nods enthusiastically. "The taste really lingers on the tongue doesn't it?"

I drink it down quickly.

He picks up another bottle and pours out two glasses of a gold coloured wine. As he hands me a glass his hand brushes against mine. I feel a bit unsteady and stagger against the deer, which is surprisingly solid, so I lean against it. I also snag my tights on the hay below, but I don't think he's noticed. We faff about with sniffing the wine and rolling it around our mouths.

"Rather a wet wool nose, this one." Wet wool? What the heck is he on about? It tastes delicious to me. "What notes are you detecting?"

I take a few sips. There's definitely a hint of orange in there somewhere . "Marmalade?" I say tentatively.

"Yes, yes!" he says enthusiastically. "What else?"

I take another sip and roll the wine around my mouth.

"Plums," I say, getting into my stride. "Maybe a touch of toffee?"

"What about this?" he says, thrusting a glass of white at me. I take a sip. It tastes like a bowl of pot pourri. Time for some creative embellishment.

"Fruity, oaky, with a touch of smoke and ...."

"Yes?" He raises an eyebrow.

"A base note of lavender?" I glug down the rest.

"Lavender?" He takes a sip. "Absolutely spot on. You've really got a knack for this."

He hands me a glass of red which goes down smoothly.

"Gamey, floral, with an afternote of peat. I love it."

I'm feeling slightly drunk. The bagpipe music is playing very loudly and my head's beginning to ache.

He takes a sip of the red. "Actually, this one's most definitely corked." Shit. That's when the wine's totally off isn't it? While I'm cursing myself for having made a total ass of myself Sten's saying, "That's enough wine talk for one evening. Now, tell me all about you."

I feel a bit unsteady so I start to slide down the side of the deer, into the hay, and then Sten sits down beside me, so we're almost the same height. I get a knot in my stomach as his thigh brushes mine. He holds my gaze for a few seconds and I know that, despite my inability to tell a wet wool nose from a hole in the wall, he likes me.

Neither of us can stop talking. Sten keeps refilling my glass while I tell him about my job, of my dreams of escape. He says he felt trapped in Sweden, where he was born, felt the government had too much control over people's lives, so he split for England. If only I had that sort of courage.

All around me glamorous people are milling about, air kissing and posing for cameras. Usually I despise all these models slash actresses, but right now I feel peaceful and brimming over with the milk of human kindness. These people are wonderful. They're my friends.

Sten has taken off his tie and thrown it down beside him. The bagpipe music has stopped, much to my relief. As ‘Come on Eileen' blasts out, I realize that everyone around me is dancing, and suddenly, despite the fact that the floor is spinning, I jump up and start to bop.

I pull Sten to his feet and dance wildly, like I haven't danced in a long while. He pulls me close, twirls me around, then pulls me close again. The feel of his big arms enveloping my body makes my heart leap in my chest. Faces sway around me, sequinned dresses shimmer, high heels stomp in the hay. I see the Smuckbecker twins, their expressions dreamy, bobbing away near me, shaking their limbs out of synch to the music.

Suddenly I'm gripped by the urge to congratulate Eva on setting me up with such a hot piece of Swedish meat, or should that be meatball? Anyway, I really need to find Eva. "Do you see Eva anywhere?" I shout into Sten's ear.

He looks out over the crowd. "I don't think so, but it's hard to tell who's who. All those red haired girls look the same."

"Let me look," I shout and before I know what's happening, he's lifted me up onto a stuffed deer. It feels great up here. I'm taller than everyone and everyone's looking at me. I wave and shout hello. I look for Eva but can't seem to find her. Despite the fact Sten is holding my hand I topple over and land astride the deer. I am clutching something long and pink in my hand. I'm not sure what it is for a moment, then I realize it's his tie.

I've kind of lost track of what's going on. I'm on a horse, or at least I think it's a horse. But the horse won't move. I thump my thighs against its side and slap its rump. Still nothing. This is one stubborn mare. So I decide to use the tie on it. That should get it moving. I'm slapping its head with the tie and Sten is laughing uproariously, but I know it's with me not at me, when suddenly I see Eva heading over.

"When I said you should get back in the saddle, this wasn't quite what I had in mind," she says, helping me off the deer. "Why don't we go to the toilet and get you freshened up?"

"I'll be right back," I say to Sten as I traipse behind Eva.

In the ladies room I sit down on a pouf while Eva sprays Evian water on my face, and wipes off my smudged makeup. Then she hands me a cup of coffee. I can't stop talking about Sten. How funny and good looking and wonderful he is.

"I'm glad you like him," she says. "But to be honest, you're completely out of your tree. You're coming home with Mark and me."

"What about Sten? I have to say goodbye."

When we come out of the ladies room the music's been turned off and the guests are assembled on the right side of the hall. The lack of noise alerts me that something isn't right. And then I see what it is. Sten's lying on the floor, his face pressed into a mess of tartan napkins, straw and spilt red wine. McManus is kneeling beside him.

"When's the ambulance coming?" shouts McManus.

"They've just arrived," a man replies.

I'm suddenly sober. I run up to Sten, whose face is greenish, despite his tan. I crouch down beside him. His forehead, beneath my hand, is burning hot. "What happened?" I say quietly.

"I don't know," says McManus. "He passed out. I can hardly feel his pulse."

The paramedics rush in and put Sten on a stretcher. We go down with them in the lift. In the street the protestors have disappeared. It's pouring with rain as I stand with Eva and McManus, watching as Sten is loaded into the ambulance. I'm still standing there after the ambulance has turned the corner. Eva puts her arm around my shoulder and pulls me away.

As we all get into a taxi the mood is sombre. No one says anything on the ride back to our flat. What is there to say? Just as Eva's opening the front door flat McManus' mobile starts to ring. It's the hospital. McManus' eyes light up as he tells us that although they don't yet know what's wrong with Sten, he's in a stable condition and will probably pull through.

The next day, I'm so badly hung over that Eva has to drag me out of bed. In the tea room at work all anyone can talk about is what caused Sten to keel over, but for once I don't join in the discussion. It feels totally distasteful.

My mouth is dry and my head pounding as the Haddock summons me to her office. She's sitting on the edge of her desk, radiating an aura of supreme dissatisfaction, when I poke my head around the door.

"Can whatever it is wait? I'm not feeling too well, actually. Any chance I could take the day off?" I'm desperate to go and visit Sten. This is just my luck, I think bitterly, the moment I meet a guy I like and who actually likes me, he keels over.

"Come in and close the door. You're lucky you still have a job, after that business on the deer last night. Everyone was talking about it."

I shrug my shoulders. "It was just a bit of fun."

She gets up and began pacing the floor. "This is all I need, the agency's reputation going down the drain on top of everything else."

"To be honest I'm more concerned with how Sten is doing. Is there any news on what caused his collapse?"

"No, not yet, but I'm convinced that one of those protestors must have slipped past security and tampered with some of the pies. I bet Sten ate one that was crammed with broken glass. It's an outrage."

"It's possible, I suppose," I say feeling suddenly very anxious to go and see Sten and check he's all right. "Well, if there's nothing else, can I go?"

She waves her hand to shoo me out. "All right, get out, but don't even think of taking the bloody day off."

In the end I make do with visiting Sten in my lunch hour. Before I leave I stop by Eva's desk to use some of the makeup she keeps stashed in her desk.

"Guess what?" she says. She's got a copy of
Marie Claire
propped up and is painting her nails behind it.

"What?"

"McManus has asked me to go away with him in a couple of weeks time. To Vienna." As she fills me in on the details I'm thinking that, before, I would have been dead jealous. But now that there's the possibility I might soon have a man of my own I feel all generous and warm towards her.

"That's great."

"I just know he's going to propose. Can you think of anything more romantic?"

"Well, right now, going to see Sten in hospital seems pretty romantic," I say, before heading into the ladies. Once I've done my makeup I finish it all off with masses of bronzer so I look almost human. I'm feeling really good about Sten. He's not so good looking he's out of my league, and we have this connection. You know what I mean.

As I'm leaving, the Haddock eyes me suspiciously through the glass of her office, but I ignore her and head towards the lift. I pick up a fruit basket at Marks & Spencer's, and then take the Tube to the Chelsea and Westminster hospital. I had a dream about Sten last night. It wasn't an erotic dream. We were going round Homebase picking out wallpaper if you must know, but it was definitely a good omen.