Chapter Twenty-Nine Single Ladies
It feels like several weeks since we arrived home from Vienna but it’s only a matter of days. The world certainly seems to be spinning far faster than it was before we left. I went straight back to work the afternoon the flight arrived as Charlie said the phones were ringing off the hook and indeed they were. Dance lessons and bucket lists are now driving our sales and people really have some strange things they want to do.
‘I think I would rather die than do that,’ says Charlie as we look at the details of one request.
‘I think you’d die if you ever attempted it,’ I tell him. ‘A full-on heart attack if you ever looked down.’
We’re staring at the Glass Skywalk, which is on the side of Tianmen Mountain in Zhangjiajie National Forest Park in China. It goes around the outside of this sheer mountain drop and is only five feet wide with a glass floor so you can see exactly where you’d plummet to your death. It is utterly terrifying.
‘How on earth did they ever build something like that?’ I ask.
‘Why is the more pertinent question,’ adds Charlie.
‘Oh come on, guys, it’ll be fun,’ says Josie, looking over our shoulders. ‘I’d give it a go.’
As she’s not in the slightest bit disturbed by sending one of our clients to certain death, we leave her to arrange it.
It’s the golf club fundraising do tonight and, reminding the others not to be late, I clock off exactly on closing to go and get ready. I know that I need to look gorgeous if I’m standing alongside the future chairman of the club and I’ve contacted the hairdresser who performed the miracle on Mum to work her magic on me.
Patty isn’t home when I get back but she’s left me a little note telling me to have a lovely time and she’s signed the bottom with lots of kisses. She wants me to know that despite her misgivings, she’s rooting for me, and I hug the note to my chest. I do my make-up, admiring the shine and bounce my hair now has; I’ve had a lot of fun in the past few days and I genuinely believe I look younger because of it. My frown lines have softened for a start, and as I smooth a little foundation across my forehead, I wonder whether that’s the secret to eternal youth — simply having a good time. It certainly hasn’t done Patty any harm. My dress is fresh from the dry cleaners having had a trip to Vienna with me. It seems to have soaked up some of that Austrian elegance, and as I step into my shoes I look at myself in the mirror.
‘Not bad, Bo-Peep,’ I tell my reflection. ‘I’d certainly take you for a spin around the floor.’
Dad is picking me up, and on the dot of seven o’clock, he and Mum pull up and Dad honks the horn from the end of the driveway. Grabbing a shawl and my clutch bag, I hurry to meet them. I’m wearing my waltzing shoes, which aren’t the most beautiful pair that I have, but I know that I can dance in them and hope there’s a chance to show off my new skills.
‘You look lovely, sweetheart,’ Dad says to me as I climb into the back seat.
‘We’re like sisters,’ adds Mum, which I know is a compliment.
‘How often does a man my age get to escort two beautiful ladies for the evening?’ Dad continues as he closes the door.
‘Flatterer,’ I reply. ‘But keep it coming.’
It isn’t a long drive and we get there just as Peter, Charlie and Josie are pulling up in their taxi. They don’t look very happy though.
‘What’s up?’ I ask as we approach them.
‘Hiccup on the wedding front,’ says Peter with a purposefully calm tone. ‘Our preferred venue has double-booked and they’ve told us they can’t do the date.’
‘Can they do another date?’ I ask.
‘If we want November,’ Charlie says. ‘And I don’t. Our honeymoon is booked too.’
This much I know as he frequently shows me pictures of the resort in Formentera.
‘We could still go for a holiday but it won’t feel the same,’ he continues. ‘I want to go as a married couple.’
I put my hand on his shoulder and tell him I’m sorry.
‘We’ll find you somewhere for the date you want,’ I tell him. ‘We’ll scour heaven and earth and find somewhere completely fabulous — just you wait and see. You’ll be glad that place was double-booked.’
He leans his head into me and I kiss the top of it. I’ve just promised a lot, but there must be a venue with space in March — it’s not exactly peak season.
Ed and Caroline pull up, which means we’re ready to head in. Peter walks over to Charlie and pulls the sides of his mouth up into a smile; the silly act makes Charlie laugh, so Peter and I link arms either side of him and strut into the golf club.
Kathryn has done a fabulous job; the club looks gorgeous. The small floral centrepieces and napkins are in the club colours of orange and green, which makes the room look fresh and inviting. The linen is crisp and the cutlery gleaming. When the basics are done well, I remember telling her at our meeting, there’s no need to spend a great deal on decoration. I can see that she’s taken this advice to heart. There’s a little gift bag at each place setting, which excites our group until we open them and find a tiny bag of golf tees and some golf pencils provided by a sponsor. Happily, there’s also an even tinier box containing two Belgian chocolates. Obviously, they don’t last long around us.
‘Why do golfers need little pencils?’ asks Josie, holding one up and examining it as if it’s an ancient artefact.
‘To write down the scores as we’re going round,’ says a voice behind me.
It’s David and I get up to give him a kiss on the cheek.
‘The place looks terrific,’ I tell him and he thanks me. I can see he’s a little nervous.
‘Thank you all for coming,’ he says. ‘It’s always a bit nerve-wracking wondering if you’re going to sell enough seats but we’re completely at capacity. I even had to squeeze in another table for four at the last minute.’
He points to a corner where there are indeed four people looking very cosy.
‘What should we do with the pencils and tees, given none of us play?’ I ask him.
‘Leave them on the table, I can always distribute them to the youth team or use them in lessons, they won’t go to waste.’
We can see that the waiters are about to start serving, so I wish him luck and let him head back to his own table. Inevitably, as soon as he’s gone, the questions start.
‘So that’s the one you’ve been spending so much time with,’ says Josie.
‘What happened to that Michael guy?’ asks Mum.
‘Oh, keep up, Mrs S,’ Charlie tells her. ‘He’s mysteriously vanished.’
‘Like in the Bermuda Triangle?’ asks Mum.
‘Exactly,’ replies Charlie.
‘Poor love,’ says Mum, putting a hand on top of mine. ‘You don’t have much luck, do you?’
With Ed sitting only two seats away, my cheeks are blazing red and Peter comes to my rescue, telling them all to back off. I nod my thanks and then tell them that he’s just a friend.
‘With benefits?’ persists Charlie, getting poked with the pointy end of a golf tee.
* * *
The meal goes well but the after-dinner speeches and dedications mean very little to our table and we don’t understand any of the golf jokes. I look around at the group and see a couple of stifled yawns; over on David’s table they’re roaring with laughter and we could be on completely different planets. The auction and raffle get underway next, thank goodness, and at least the prizes aren’t all golf related. The Mercury Travel voucher raises a decent sum and Charlie is asked to present it to the winner, then Caroline wins a rather nice silk scarf donated by a local boutique.
After this, the chairman stands and asks everyone to raise a glass to the organiser, Kathryn, and to the brains behind the evening, David. They read out the sum of money they’ve raised and it’s enough for the work they need doing, so all the club members cheer even louder as the rest of us politely applaud. Kathryn is handed a bouquet of flowers and David a gold tiepin. Then there are photos of the two of them.
My table have gone back to talking about potential wedding venues but I’m watching the photos. I’m watching David put his arm around Kathryn, which is a perfectly normal thing to do when you’re being asked to squeeze together for the picture, but it’s the way he’s doing it. He’s leaning in so naturally and I don’t think he’s ever done that with me. Music starts up and David waves over at me to check it’s okay before pulling Kathryn onto the dance floor. I simply nod and smile. My group are up the second the music starts, happy that the party has actually started. Only Caroline stays behind as Ed and Josie strut their stuff to ‘Voulez-Vous’with the others.
‘Penny for them,’ says Caroline. I can feel her eyes boring into the side of my head.
‘How do you know if you’re kidding yourself?’ I ask, nodding towards David and Kathryn.
‘Do you think he’s having an affair?’ she asks.
I shake my head and tell her he genuinely is only a friend, and although I wondered whether it could be something more, he hasn’t indicated that he’s looking for that.
‘At least not with me,’ I add. ‘And Kathryn is lovely. They look very natural together, but if there is a spark between them then I think it started tonight and not before.’
‘And how does that make you feel?’ asks Caroline in complete therapist mode.
I turn and smile at her.
‘Are you coaching me again?’ I say with a laugh.
‘If it helps.’
I consider how I do feel and the answer is slightly sad. I tell Caroline this and she asks whether I’m sad for the loss of a potential relationship or the loss of David.
‘Sometimes we just want to be in a relationship and, if we’re honest with ourselves, we’re forcing it — trying to make someone fit your life or changing yourself to fit theirs,’ she adds.
I give a little snort as it’s exactly what’s been happening since I met David. My crowd are not golf club people and this is his passion. He’d be horrified with the Granny-Okies and would die of embarrassment if I ever got back up on the stage with them. We’re just different people.
‘If you find yourself thinking things could be great if only they’d change or if only you could become interested in the things they like, then it probably isn’t going to work,’ she says.
I take a deep breath and nod. Mum and Dad come back to the table and tell me they’re going to head home but Charlie can fit me in their taxi if I want to stay. I blink away the prick of a self-pity tear and say that I’ll come with them as I’m still quite tired after Vienna.
I pick up my shawl and bag then head over to David and Kathryn. I tell them the evening has been fabulous and that I wish them every success with the future of the club. I give both of them a peck on the cheek then look David directly in the eye as I say, ‘Goodbye.’ He nods his understanding.
That pity tear threatens to return as I walk towards the door and hear the music slow down as the DJ plays a truly vintage track that I remember my mum listening to on the radio — ‘Alone Again (Naturally)’.