Chapter Twenty-Two
Genevieve kicked out her hip and rested her hand on it. Finlay’s eyes travelled over the incredible outfit, consisting of a dress with a pale pink V-neck top half and a flared skirt covered in pink roses. On her feet were pink Mary-Janes with white ankle socks, white gloves on her hands and her hair pulled back into a long and immaculate ponytail, fixed with a large rose.
‘Wow, you never fail to amaze me. That’s one heck of a costume.’ He smiled, unable to take his eyes from her. She’d even managed to get the make up to look perfect with bright lips and rosy cheeks.
‘Glad it’s ok,’ she said. ‘I’ve never been to a rock ’n’ roll party before. Hayley helped me pick this. She’s going in a bright red dress that looks so hot with her dark hair.’
‘Did you just call my sister hot?’
‘Must run in your family.’
‘Ha! You really know how to flatter a guy.’ He lifted the leather jacket Hayley had got him from somewhere. His otherwise boring outfit of a white muscle t-shirt and black jeans didn’t really look much different from how he usually dressed, except he’d turned up the ankles of his jeans and gelled his hair.
‘You look damn hot in that t-shirt,’ she said, with a flirty wink.
‘You think? And you like my hair, uh-huh?’ He put on an Elvis voice and ran his fingers through his slicked back hairstyle. Hayley had given him instructions on how to style it with a front flick but he wasn’t sure he’d succeeded in doing it properly.
‘Gorgeous.’
‘Well, we’re going to be quite the pair, aren’t we?’
‘We really are.’
He took her hand and spun her under his arm. ‘You’re rocking it, baby.’
She laughed. ‘Have you seen my socials today?’
‘No. Why?’
‘I did a “how to”’ session on nineteen-fifties make up, using the products I endorse. It’s had hundreds of views already.’
‘Wow. You’re really something, aren’t you? A celebrity.’
‘Hardly.’
‘I mean it. You wouldn’t get all these people watching unless they cared what you had to say.’
‘Maybe, though there’s a lot of hate too. And some stuff that’s hard to read.’
Finlay tilted his head and sighed. ‘That’s cruel. I didn’t know that.’
‘Oh yes. The haters will always hate, and sometimes, it hurts.’
He gathered her in for a hug. ‘I’d like to track them down and give them what they deserve.’
‘No point and you’d never find them… But I appreciate the thought. I’ve been thinking about changing things up for a while. I’m just not sure what else I would do. I don’t exactly have a lot of qualifications.’
‘Formal qualifications aren’t everything and you have many skills.’
She wrapped her arms around his neck and smiled. ‘I would kiss you but it might ruin my lippy.’
‘Well, I won’t insist. Priorities and all that.’ With a wink, he dipped in and kissed her earlobe. ‘There, that won’t ruin anything.’
As there were five of them going from Glenbriar, Finlay had agreed to be the taxi driver. He really wanted Genevieve in the front with him, but she gave up her seat to Aidan, who had longer legs and needed more space than her. Finlay also suspected she wanted to bee-bop in the back with Hayley and Lilah, Aidan’s girlfriend. The three of them sat huddled together in their dresses, looking like the chorus line from Grease and singing along to a rock ’n’ roll playlist on Hayley’s phone.
Aidan’s eyes wandered constantly to the mirror, where he looked adoringly at his girlfriend. Finlay couldn’t help noticing because he kept glancing that way too. Only his gaze found its way to Genevieve. Each time she caught his eye, she smiled broadly with her bright lips, looking every inch the sassy rock chick.
When they reached the riverside hotel in Dundee, the old misgivings slipped into Finlay’s stomach. Nothing much was wrong with the place aesthetically. It was a very average-looking carvery type of restaurant attached to a modern hotel. But it was nothing compared to the glamour of Genevieve’s parents’ home. She could probably handle it as a one off, but this was his family and he couldn’t – or wouldn’t – change it. They were normal people, not rich with big fancy houses, or famous with thousands of followers on social media. Just run-of-the-mill folks.
Everyone got out of the car in a rustle of dresses and a thud of doors. Aidan had longer hair than Finlay and had managed to set it in a quite dramatic high coif that looked a lot more authentic than Finlay’s slicked back look. He put on the jacket, wriggling under its uncomfortable weight in the heat.
Lilah took Aidan’s arm and he winked at her. Together they looked like they’d walked off a fifties film set.
Genevieve took Hayley’s arm, then looped her other one into Finlay’s.
‘You’ve got me as the gooseberry,’ Hayley said. ‘One day I’m going to have a date for something.’
‘Why haven’t you got a date? What’s wrong with all these guys?’ Finlay said. ‘Should I be threatening them into dating my sister?’
‘Aren’t you supposed to do the opposite?’
‘Na. That’s old-fashioned. You can date whoever you want. Well, as long as he’s nice.’
‘What if you don’t think he’s nice?’
‘Good point, but he’d have to be pretty horrible for me not to like him and I hope you’d never be that bad a judge of character.’
‘I’d keep out of it if I were you,’ Genevieve said. ‘My brother wouldn’t even notice who I was dating.’
‘Your brother is a hottie,’ Hayley said.
‘Seriously,’ Finlay muttered. ‘Are you after him? I thought he was married.’ He was sure he’d heard that at some point. His mum and Hayley told him stuff about people, but he often forgot or got stories muddled. No way could he keep up with all the people they knew and how much they knew about them.
‘He was,’ Genevieve said. ‘But they split up ages ago. It’s Mum and Dad’s best kept secret. They don’t mention it unless it’s strictly necessary.’
Music blared from the function room in the hotel and it sounded more like a rave than a civilised party. Finlay gave Genevieve a sideways glance, but she didn’t look bothered.
‘This reminds me of that nightclub we went to in Edinburgh,’ she said to Hayley. ‘Do you remember? It was full of over forties, and we were like only nineteen.’
‘Oh god, yes. They were wilder than everyone our age.’
‘But some of the guys were still hot.’
‘Seriously,’ Finlay said. ‘Please, don’t tell me anymore.’
‘You’ll be forty in seven years,’ Hayley said. ‘So don’t knock it. Be thrilled she’ll still find you hot then.’
‘That’s not quite what I meant.’ Then he weighed the idea. ‘But I can live with that.’ Except Genevieve would likely be with someone else by then. He swept the thought away and his eyes landed on the scene inside the room. The fifties motel décor was fun, but his dad dressed in a full white Elvis costume, not so much.
‘Oh my god… What is he wearing?’ Whatever it was, it looked too tight to be decent.
Hayley laughed. ‘That’s hilarious.’
The suit was cut low and a large medallion dangled at his chest.
‘Your dad’s a bit of a looker too,’ Genevieve said. ‘It definitely runs in your family.’
‘Have you got some kind of daddy kink going on?’
She chuckled and play slapped his arm. ‘No. Of course not. But I’ve always liked older men.’
‘How much older?’
‘Five years is fine.’ She winked at him and he frowned, but before he could speak, he spotted someone waving furiously at him. Liz, his dad’s partner. He clamped his mouth shut, not wanting to risk laughing or making a comment that could be misconstrued. She was dressed as Marilyn Monroe in a red body-hugging dress with a long white stole. Her hair was bleached for the occasion and she smiled with huge red lips, her long dangly earrings flying about and glinting in the light as she greeted people.
‘Wow, that’s an impressive outfit,’ Genevieve said.
‘Hmm,’ Finlay muttered. ‘This is why he’s not with my mum anymore. He likes flashy women.’ His mum was glamorous but she wasn’t showy with it. ‘But Liz is nice. I don’t mean to sound horrible. She just likes to outshine everyone with her outfits. It wouldn’t surprise me if this whole party was her idea. I don’t think Dad is into rock ’n’ roll especially. He was born in the sixties, so maybe that’s the link.’
‘Looks more like the fifties to me,’ Genevieve said.
‘Yeah, true.’
‘It was definitely Liz’s idea,’ Hayley said. ‘I think she wanted an excuse to wear that dress.’
‘Ah, here they are. My bonnie offspring,’ Finlay’s dad said, throwing his arms wide. ‘And you both look wonderful.’ He kissed Hayley fondly then threw his arms around Finlay, giving him a bear hug. ‘And who’s this lovely lady?’
‘Genevieve,’ Finlay said.
‘I can’t keep up with all his girlfriends.’
‘All my girlfriends? I haven’t had that many.’
‘Dad,’ Hayley said. ‘They’re engaged.’
‘Ha!’ He clapped Finlay’s back. ‘Don’t I know it? Doesn’t waste time, this lad.’
Finlay held his tongue. Maybe if he spent more time getting to know people before jumping into engagements, he might not be in this mess, but he said nothing.
‘Well, it’s nice to meet this one,’ Liz said. ‘We didn’t get to meet the last one.’
‘Yeah,’ Finlay said, leaning in and kissing her cheek. Her perfume was so overpowering he pulled away, feeling like it was clinging to him.
‘You look quite stunning,’ Liz said to Genevieve. ‘And hopefully you’ll stick around a bit longer than the last one.’ Her voice was low and her tone cheeky, but Finlay ground his teeth. Nope, Genevieve wasn’t sticking around either. And every interaction he had here this afternoon was going to make him look even more ridiculous than he already was.
‘I think I’ve seen you somewhere before,’ Liz added, frowning at Genevieve. ‘Are you on the telly?’
‘She’s the Vieve,’ Hayley said. ‘Have you seen her on the socials?’
‘Oh yeah. I love watching you. That’s why I recognise you. I love the cooking ideas and the make-up. Of course I’m not single, but you’re so relatable and easy to listen to.’
‘Thanks.’
‘What will you do now you’re engaged? You can’t promo the single life anymore, can you?’
‘I, um, yeah… I’ll need to think of a new angle.’
‘Sounds a bit of a pain. Maybe you’d be better ditching this one in the name of the Vieve.’ She burst out laughing and clapped Finlay’s arm. ‘I’m joking of course. Don’t look so worried.’
‘Me? I’m not worried,’ he said. But his chest constricted like someone was tightening a belt around it. Genevieve would be ditching him sooner than they knew.
After breaking away from Liz, Finlay made his way into the room with Genevieve and Hayley, stopping to chat to some familiar people. Hayley was much better at remembering who everyone was than him, so he was happy to hang back and let her rattle on. Genevieve was well-practised at social occasions too and chipped in with comments and asides.
On a table near the bar was a large collection of glasses beside bottles of prosecco and jugs of orange juice. Finlay would be sticking to the latter today. As the designated driver, he had to, and he also didn’t want to risk prosecco again. Not after the last time. He didn’t want to return to Glenbriar and discover they’d met a minister who’d married them on the spot – or some other similar mishap.
‘I’ll get some drinks,’ he said, recalling the party at the Harringtons when servers had milled around with trays, making sure no one ever had an empty glass. This way wasn’t as convenient but it was safer and probably more economical.
He got both Genevieve and Hayley a glass of prosecco. Genevieve eyed it with a half amused look as he handed it to her.
‘It’s ok,’ he murmured, holding up his glass of orange juice. ‘I’m on this.’
‘Just as well. You never know where we might end up otherwise.’
‘The registry office?’ He clinked his glass against hers.
She raised an eyebrow. ‘I was thinking prison.’
He chuckled and Hayley turned to look at him. ‘What are you two up to?’
‘Nothing,’ he said innocently.
They mingled some more, chatting to old friends of his dad’s and meeting some of their children – children who were his age and had children of their own. People he’d apparently met when they were little, but he didn’t remember. Something gnawed inside him, pulling at his gut. This was what life should look like for people in their early thirties, if that was what they wanted. They had partners and families, owned detached houses and drove MPVs. Some of them complained about the dull domesticity of their lives, moaned about how their existence now revolved around their kids, and fretted about whether they’d be home before the little ones had a meltdown. They didn’t exactly make it sound idyllic, but Finlay wanted a piece of it. That was where he saw himself now, only he wasn’t even close. The claps on the back and the congratulations on his engagement may as well be a punch in the face. In two weeks’ time, he was leaving for Dubai. He didn’t expect to meet a partner out there and by the time he got back to Scotland, he’d be thirty-six. Guys didn’t have a body clock quite the same as women but it didn’t stop him feeling like a failure. If only he could channel some of Oliver’s feelings on the matter. He took a sip of his drink, pretty certain he could never generate Oliver levels of indifference to relationships.
Someone wolf-whistled and Finlay became aware of a ringing sound. On a stage at the end of the room, his dad was tapping a glass with his spoon. Behind him were some lurid blow-up guitars surrounding posters of Elvis.
‘Just to say thank you to you all for coming,’ his dad said, beaming around. ‘It’s almost time for food but before that I’d like to give an extra special thank you to Liz.’ He took her hand, inviting her onto the stage with him. Finlay held his breath; it looked like the back of her dress might split as she raised her knees high to clamber up the steep step. Liz smiled and waved like she was embarrassed, though she was clearly loving the attention as she winked at friends in the crowd.
‘Liz has organised all this,’ his dad continued. ‘And it’s wonderful. Thank you so much.’ He pulled her into a clinch and kissed her. Finlay took a large swig of orange juice. This was something he didn’t want to watch: Elvis kissing Marilyn Monroe, especially when Elvis was his dad.
He was glad when his dad announced the buffet was open.
‘Your favourite thing,’ Genevieve said. ‘The all-you-can-eat buffet.’
‘One of my favourite things.’ Right now, she topped the list. She caught his eye and he winked. The look on her face told him she was wondering if he meant her.
‘Tutti Frutti’ was blasting from the speakers and some of the kids were on the stage dancing and pretending to play the blowup guitars.
A black and white chequered tablecloth, reminiscent of the floors in a fifties diner, adorned the table and Finlay lifted a plate.
‘Liz has really outdone herself this time,’ he said, running his gaze over the rockin’ burgers, rollin’ tacos, rockstar hot dogs, twist-and-shout fries in retro-style paper cones and the shake, rattle, and roll salad bar. ‘This is pretty cool.’ He loaded his plate with a little bit of everything. Maybe he was lucky or maybe it was all the sport he did, but he’d always been able to eat as much as he liked without any change in his weight.
‘How long has your dad been with Liz?’ Genevieve asked, lifting a mini chicken taco and spooning out some salsa from a guitar-shaped bowl.
‘About four years, I think.’
‘And will they get married?’
‘I don’t know. Mum and Dad divorced twenty years ago. They’ve both had other partners since then, but neither of them seems to want to get married again. Having said that, Liz has been around the longest.’
‘Your mum doesn’t seem to mind being on her own. She likes her holidays with friends and she said she tries The Vieve’s single girl recipes.’
‘Yeah.’ He let out a sigh. ‘I think she enjoys the freedom but I know she gets lonely sometimes.’ When she was feeling like that, she badgered him about grandchildren, telling him how she’d love to look after them and have them fill her days. Maybe one day he’d oblige. He knew she did the same thing to Hayley at times too and they’d both moaned about it to each other. What else could they do? It wasn’t like they could spring grandchildren out of a hole in the ground. And Mum wasn’t mean about it. She just wanted what she thought would make them all happy. No doubt it would, but it wasn’t happening anytime soon. Not from him anyway.
When everyone was stuffed with food, Liz called them all to order with another wolf whistle. With the help of one of her daughters, she pulled back a screen to reveal a masterpiece of a birthday cake.
‘Happy Birthday, Sam, darling.’ She kissed Finlay’s dad on the cheek and pulled him over.
The room hushed as Sam made his way to the spectacular cake.
‘That’s impressive,’ Genevieve said.
It really was. Finlay joined her in pulling out his phone and taking a picture of it. The cake rested on a black fondant base that resembled a stage and on top was an edible replica of an electric guitar, its body intricately detailed and shimmering with metallic silver and gold accents.
Around the guitar-shaped cake were vinyl records made of what looked like chocolate. Edible microphones poised at various angles surrounded it.
‘All together now,’ Liz said, and she held out her hands like a conductor. Everyone began singing ‘Happy Birthday’ while Finlay’s dad smiled with slightly redder than usual cheeks.
‘Thank you, thank you,’ he said. ‘I don’t want to waffle on, as speeches are boring at the best of times, but this has been a quite fantastic party, and it’s wonderful to have you all here. Let me raise a glass to all my favourites.’ He picked up his beer glass and held it high. ‘Here’s to us,’ he said. ‘Who’s like us?’
‘Damn few and they’re aw deid,’ Finlay said.
‘Good lad.’ His dad grinned and knocked back his beer.
Genevieve smiled at him. Was she remembering him saying that at her parents’ party not so long ago? What else did she remember? He couldn’t recall clearly exactly what had passed between them, and he probably never would.
‘I’m not sure where to cut this,’ his dad said, lifting the knife. ‘It feels wrong to butcher it.’
‘Just go for it,’ Liz said.
He stabbed the knife into the guitar part of the cake and the room erupted in cheers and applause.
‘I hope it tastes good,’ Hayley said, appearing at Finlay’s side.
‘There’s enough of it,’ Genevieve said.
‘You think?’ Finlay winked at her. ‘Looks like a wee snack to me. I’ll polish that off, no sweat.’
Genevieve half rolled her eyes at Hayley but it was obvious she was trying not to laugh too much. And it felt good. They were like a real couple, relaxed and safe in the knowledge they had each other.
Only they didn’t.
Finlay’s dad carefully sliced further into the cake, revealing layers of chocolate and vanilla sponge.
‘Let’s get some of that and check the old man is feeling ok.’
Finlay collected plates as they approached the table.
‘Who made the cake?’ Genevieve asked Liz.
‘A lovely friend of mine. She’s won prizes for her cakes several times.’
‘I can see why. It’s incredible.’
‘I can give you her details.’ Liz pulled out her phone. ‘She does wedding cakes too and I’m sure she’d love to do one for the two of you. And she’s very reasonably priced.’
‘Um… Thanks.’ Genevieve took out her phone and Liz sent her the info. Another pointless moment. There wouldn’t be a wedding. Finlay was on the verge of saying the marriage wouldn’t be taking place for a long time because of his Dubai commitments, but why bother? It was all compounding the lie.
Dance music started up as Finlay chatted to his dad until Liz dragged him away. Soon she and his dad were bopping on the floor with wild movements, like they were having the time of their lives.
‘Still the king of the dad dance,’ Finlay said.
Hayley chuckled. ‘Right, my beauties. I love you both so much.’ She gave both him and Genevieve a hug like she was leaving for a week. ‘But I’m not hanging around cramping your style. I’m off to find some hot teddy boy to dance with.’
‘Shall we dance too?’ Finlay asked.
‘In a minute. Can we get some air first?’ Genevieve fanned her face. ‘It’s really warm in here and I’ve just seen a message I really should look at.’
‘Sure.’
They walked outside where some picnic tables had been set on a grass verge overlooking the wide mouth of the River Tay. Two bridges were visible further up: the rail bridge and the road bridge. Genevieve walked to the edge and leaned on the railings. Finlay followed.
‘What’s the message?’
‘It’s James Charlton,’ she said with a sigh.
‘Who? Isn’t he the guy you used to date? Or pretend to date?’
Genevieve’s cheeks reddened slightly. ‘Yeah, but that’s all done with. He wants to meet me about a contract with Duchan Fayre.’ She stared at her phone. ‘This could be huge. It’s a chance to design and promote my own range with them. He says he’s been thinking about it for a long time and we could be the perfect partnership.’
‘Right. In business or…’
‘Oh, just business, for sure.’ Her eyes sparkled as she looked at her phone. ‘This is so exciting. What a chance.’
A green monster was writhing in Finlay’s stomach. Once he was gone, would Genevieve take up with James again? Maybe she’d only been pretending with him before but who knew what might happen now? Finlay wasn’t exactly in a position to do much about it. While she and James were here working on contracts, he’d be thousands of miles away – probably forgotten.
‘Congratulations,’ he said, and he took her in his arms. He wouldn’t spoil this moment for her with jealousy. The world righted itself for a moment. Everything was good when they were together. He loved the very masculine feeling of being bigger than her and able to support her physically. But another part of him wanted to shrink into her arms and let her soothe him, tell him everything would work out and that they would be fine. ‘I hope it’s everything you’ve ever dreamed of,’ he said quietly.
‘Thank you.’
Only it wouldn’t be anywhere near what he was dreaming of.
He stroked her back, holding her close, drowning in her beautiful rose perfume, then placed a lingering kiss on the side of her neck. ‘I’ll always love…’ His voice faltered, and he stopped himself from adding ‘you’. She seemed to freeze in his arms. ‘Looking back on these days.’
‘Me too,’ she said. ‘Me too.’