Read Valentine Present and Other Diabolical Liberties Online
Authors: Lynda Renham
Tags: #Humor & Entertainment, #Humor, #Love; Sex & Marriage, #Literature & Fiction, #Humor & Satire, #General Humor
I reach for a wine bottle but Brice stops my hand, sending a tingle through me
‘Why are you so nervous?’
‘I’m not nervous,’ I say, draining the last drop of champagne from the flute.
‘White wine madam?’ asks Gregory.
‘Yes please,’ I say, shaking off Brice’s hand.
‘Yes,’ says Mum, looking at the roll each side of her. ‘But what we saw was lovely, and of course your home is beautiful.’
Brice picks up his roll and bites into it and
Mum gives him a relieved smile.
‘I’ll get Cedric to give you a tour. We’re having the engagement party in the ballroom. Of course if the weather had been decent we could have hired a marquee, but one has to think of the servants carrying everything in the rain,’ replies Margarita.
‘We’re so excited about the party aren’t we Douglas?’
‘I think you’ll find it interesting,’ says Hamilton condescendingly.
‘Mum and Dad have been to engagement parties before, you know,’ says Caron with an edge to her voice.
‘We don’t have servants,’ says Dad. ‘Lillian does everything in our home, don’t you love?’
‘Yes, well it is smaller Dad,’ chips in Caron.
Oh God, I want to die. I wonder if I crawl under the table anyone will miss me. Perhaps I can pop to the kitchen and help cook with the food.
I just pray
Mum doesn’t offer to do the washing up.
‘You must have help of some kind. Don’t you have a cleaner?’ asks Margarita as she gives a piece of bread to Diamond.
‘Oh yes she has a cleaner. I bought you a new Henry for Christmas didn’t I Lil?’ says Dad proudly.
I suppose I could dunk my head into my soup as a distraction. I down half a glass of wine and debate whether I should ask Alistair if he has his
Valium with him.
‘You do your own cleaning?’ says a stunned Margarita.
‘It’s not unknown old girl. Not everyone has domestic staff,’ smiles Brice.
‘Well you young man,’ she says affectionately, ‘could do with some staff at Stalkers Lodge.’
‘I’m perfectly happy cleaning it myself,’ he grins.
I feel myself slide from the chair and grab his knee to stop myself falling. One hand covers mine while the other helps me back into my seat.
‘Sorry,’ I slur.
‘I’m very happy to hold your delectable body, but not throughout the whole of dinner,’ he whispers while moving my wine glass out of reach.
‘Spoilsport,’ I mumble.
‘For withholding the wine or not holding your delectable body throughout dinner?’
‘Both,’ I whisper, trying to sound seductive but sounding more like a lush.
‘Douglas does the garden,’ Mum adds.
‘Oh good heavens,’ exclaims Phoebe. ‘You mean you don’t have a gardener? But that’s just absurd.’
Oh sod this for a game of soldiers.
‘No more absurd than your enormous tits,’ I say drunkenly. ‘I’d like to see Sebastian prick those with his tiepin.’
Phoebe gasps. Oh God, I must be pissed. I never say things like that.
‘How dare you. Really Lady Lancaster, this is just too common …’ she says turning to Melanie.
‘You were being rather toffee nosed Phoebe,’ remarks Brice.
‘Too right,’ adds Caron.
Brice gives my hand a reassuring squeeze. The touch of his hand has my body on fire immediately and I feel quite bereft when he moves it.
True to form, Mum starts collecting the soup bowls. Brice places his hand gently on hers.
‘Don’t worry about that. Emily will collect the dishes. We lead a privileged life as you can see.’
‘We have Scottish beef for the main course, or trout, I do hope you’re all happy with that,’ says Melanie cheerfully in an attempt to ease the tension.
‘I’ve never had Scottish beef,’ says Caron. ‘We get ours from Tesco, don’t we Gary?’
‘It’s rather good,’ says Cedric, offering a slice to Gary. In response, Gary hands his plate to Cedric,
‘I’ll try anything once,’ he says.
‘Damn fine cows they are too the Aberdeen Angus, and I assum
e the trout is from the loch?’ says Major Bates. ‘Will you be back for grouse season old man?’ he adds, looking at Sebastian.
Caron catches my eye and
gestures to the door with a tip of her head. I stand up and Caron follows suit.
‘If you’ll excuse us,’ I say, leading Caron to the door.
She closes it behind us and sighs.
‘Christ Harriet, how can you stand this lot? You’re not seriously getting engaged to that plonker Hamilton are you? I know Julian put you in the shit but Christ, this lot are so up their own arses it’s untrue. God, I need fresh air.’
She yanks open the front door and I follow her out. The chilly air hits us and I feel myself sway.
‘Christ, how much have I drunk?’ I groan, feeling my head pound.
‘Is there something going on Harry, something that Mum and Dad should know about? And who is that obnoxious Phoebe? Just who is she a friend of?’
‘Oh God, Caron, the thing is …’
God have I drunk that much that I am beginning to hear things? My heart beats faster when I hear that distinctive whining sound that says
Harriet’s Mini
? I see a car turning into the estate driveway. I strain my eyes but everything just blurs.
‘Do you see that?’ I ask paranoia in my voice.
‘Yes, who is that?’ Caron replies walking towards the figure that has emerged from the car. Oh Jesus, what if it is Jack Diamond?
‘Caron, come back,’ I say, hobbling after her.
‘Good heaven’s Julian, is that you?’ she cries.
Dear God, I can’t think which is worse, Julian or Jack Diamond.
‘Hello Harriet. So this is Glenwood,’ he says and plonks a wet kiss on my cheek.
It seems to take forever to get my brain in gear and even longer to get my tongue to work.
‘Julian, I told you not to come here,’ I slur.
He ignores me and smiles at Caron.
‘Does he know?’ she whispers.
‘That Harriet is getting engaged to another man?’ asks Julian.
‘Well I …’ stammers Caron.
‘That’s why I’m here. Perhaps you could give us a few minutes Caron?’
Shit, this is all I need.
‘I’ll be in the dining room. Don’t be too long, it’s chilly out here.’
‘I won’t keep her long,’ he smiles. ‘What happened to your foot?’
‘Like you care Julian, I mean, please don’t insult me.’
He moves towards me and I take a step backwards, swaying ungainly as I do so. His arm reaches out and encircles my waist and I am pulled towards him.
‘Why are you being like this Harry? I made a mistake, I’m sorry. But I’m trying to get us out of the mess.’
I pull myself from his arms and scoff.
‘By blackmailing Hamilton?’ I say.
‘It’s not like that. I’ll only tell his grandmother if he doesn’t make a small investment in the restaurant. Come on Harry, he’s loaded. It’s a drop in the ocean for him, you could have asked for a lot more than thirty-five thousand.’
‘I think you have a nerve coming here,’ snaps a voice behind us.
I turn to see
Mum striding towards us. For one awful minute I think she may clip him round the ear, and I’m pleased to see he still has both ears for her to clip. Is this my mum talking or has she been possessed by the Antichrist? It must be the bloody Scottish beef. My placid mum is now a force to be reckoned with.
‘Mrs Lawson, I think this is a matter between Harriet and I. Whatever you may think, I happen to know that Harriet loves me and we’ll get this mess sorted.’
‘I rather think you have let her down something awful Julian. Harriet has a chance for happiness now and I don’t think you should get in the way of that.’
‘Mum, the thing with Hamilton is …’
‘Be quiet Harriet,’ she says forcefully. ‘You’ve put my daughter right in the bleeding shit. When I got to your flat she was a wreck, sitting there holding a sodding vibrator. You left her without a pot to piss in or a window to throw it out of. You’re a selfish bleeder and she’s better off without you.’
Holy shit.
Her cheeks are flushed and in the moonlight she looks quite angelic. I can’t say the same for her language. Julian’s eyes widen.
‘Why were you holding a vibrator?’
I don’t believe this is happening.
‘Well, she wasn’t having an earth-shattering orgasm thinking about you, if that’s what you’re thinking.’
Christ almighty.
‘Mum,’ I say reaching the doorpost for support. ‘Don’t get all worked up.’
‘Hello there, I’m Sir Sebastian Lancaster, can I help you?’
Mum and I look at Julian as Sebastian joins us.
‘This is my son Julian,’ says Mum quickly.
What the fuck. Has she taken leave of her senses?
‘Come in, come in,’ Sebastian waves.
I force a smile.
‘Sorry I’m late,’ says Julian, acting the part perfectly. ‘I drove down. Hit traffic I’m afraid.’
Hamilton stands in the doorway and I try to ignore his piercing eyes.
‘My son Julian, just in time for dinner,’ says Mum on seeing Hamilton. She pulls Julian into the hall and strides to the dining room. No doubt she is hurrying to warn Dad and Caron. God, everyone has gone mad. My heart drops as it occurs to me that Brice is bound to remember who Julian is.
‘I’m warning you,’ I hiss.
Julian ignores me and walks ahead to the dining room. Thoughts of stabbing him in the back fleetingly cross my mind.
‘What the hell is going on?’ Hamilton asks blocking my way.
‘You’ll have to ask Julian,’ I say nervously.
‘I’m warning you Harriet …’
‘Oh Hamilton, do stop warning me. It’s becoming quite tedious now,’ I snap, hobbling to the dinner table.
‘Cedric, lay a place for Mr Lawson,’ Melanie says as she shakes Julian’s hand and welcomes him to Glenwood. Mr Lawson my arse. Fiona stares in shock and Alistair stutters something, which thankfully everyone ignores. I sit down and finish what is left in my wine glass. I feel Brice’s eyes on me and try to ignore him. The tension from his body is almost tangible, and when his knee brushes mine it feels like an electric current shoots through me. Julian arrogantly shakes hands with Hamilton and congratulates him on his engagement. Gary looks baffled and is about to open his mouth when Caron nudges him sharply in the ribs.
‘I must say you don’t resemble your parents at all,’ says Margarita, studying him.
‘Christ, why don’t we invite the Jacks too,’ mumbles Fiona.
‘What was that dear?’ asks Mum.
Gregory sidles up to me with a silver platter and looking at my
glass of white wine asks,
‘Are you the trout madam?’
‘Most certainly not,’ I smile. ‘You must mean Phoebe.’
Phoebe looks at Hamilton who tactfully turns his head away.
‘Well, this is nice isn’t it?’ says Melanie, ‘All your family here.’
I can’t think of anything worse.
‘Yes,’ I say with a forced smile.
‘We’re a very close family, aren’t we Harry,’ Julian says with a half smile. Phoebe looks at him appraisingly and I sigh. He is good looking in a smarmy kind of way. He is wearing a smart suit and white shirt. It was his good looks that attracted me to him in the first place, that and his ambition. I now feel nothing but loathing for him.
‘So what do you do Julian?’ asks Brice, his tone hard and his eyes focused entirely on him.
‘The beef is superb,’ says Hamilton.
I am grateful for the change of subject.
‘Yes excellent,’ agrees Phoebe. ‘As always the food is outstanding Margarita.’
Margarita gives Phoebe a scathing look.
‘But of course. I’m surprised you need to say so. We’d never serve anything but superb food,’ she says sharply.
Phoebe gives her a tight smile. Brice’s eyes continue to bore into Julian and I wait for his response with bated breath. Julian opens his mouth to reply as Brice holds up a hand to stop him.
‘No, I remember now. Harriet mentioned something about you trying to set up a French restaurant. How’s that going? I imagine you need a lot of finance for something like that?’
‘I’m not
trying
anything,’ says Julian, an undercurrent of anger in his voice. ‘I
own
a French restaurant and it’s doing very well actually.’
He meets Brice’s stare head on. Oh no, please don’t let there be a scene.
‘I love French food,’ says Phoebe. ‘Do you speak French to your customers?’
Speak French? That’s a laugh. The only ‘French’ to come out of Julian’s mouth are curses.
‘I did try,’ he says arrogantly, ‘but the customers prefer English.’
What a little liar. She giggles flirtatiously,
‘What a shame, I love a man who speaks French.’
‘I speak French,’ says Hamilton, looking hurt.
‘I do too,’ says Alistair.
‘When you can get it out,’ adds Fiona.
‘I don’t stammer in F-F-F-French,’ he argues.
‘Why not?’ I ask.
‘Probably because no one can understand him,’ quips Fiona.
‘Foreign languages are so romantic aren’t they?’ says Julian, smiling at Phoebe.
Good God is he flirting with her, and right under my nose. Well, that takes the biscuit doesn’t it? Cedric and Gregory remove our plates, and I hear Julian say,
‘By the way Hamilton, I wonder if I could have a little chat with you about the restaurant. You’re a businessman. I could do with a few tips.’
Hamilton looks uneasy.
‘I don’t know much about restaurants,’ he says cautiously.
‘It’s more financial advice I was looking for,’ Julian says, taking a roll.
Fiona looks wide
-eyed at me. I shake my head miserably and knock back some wine.
‘Madam, what would you like for dessert, we have lemon tart or Scottish trifle,’ offers Gregory.
‘Scottish trifle is also known as
Tipsy Laird,’
laughs Sebastian.
‘I would think the tart is more you,’ says Phoebe spitefully.
I study her over the
rim of the wine glass.
‘It takes one to know one,’ I snap. ‘I’ll have the Scottish trifle please. Nothing like a tipsy laird to finish the evening.’
‘Touché,’ Brice laughs.
I blush and pick up my spoon.
‘I’ll be your tipsy laird any night,’ he whispers huskily and I feel an urge to cross my legs to stop the unbearable ache between them. I see Julian staring at us and I give him a weak smile.
‘You tease me sir,’ I whisper back.
‘I tease not m’lady and why pray, do I behold your boyfriend here?’
I lower my spoon and turn to face him. Everyone is chatting about the desserts and I feel sure I won’t be overheard.
‘He’s here to get money from Hamilton,’ I say honestly.
‘And you didn’t know he was coming?’
I shake my head.
‘I hope you’re not flirting with the bride to be,’ says Julian loudly.
Brice lifts a glass of wine to his lips.
‘Yes I was. Last chance before she has that ring on her finger,’ he smiles.
There is an uncomfortable silence until Sebastian says,
‘Who’s for a game of charades?’
I hate to tell him we’ve been playing that all evening.