Chapter Five
Today, Tarwin House was celebrating Martyn Riley and Tonya Brown’s wedding.
A very special day, thought Cat, as she paused in the archway leading from the main hotel to the function suite.
Martyn and Tonya were locals. He worked at Arcadia in Sales and Tonya had a mobile hairdressing business.
Everyone knew them, which meant most of the village would be here later to join the celebrations.
She checked her watch. The ceremony, which was due to take place at St Andrews, the local parish church on the edge of the village, should already be underway.
After a final briefing with her team and checking with Anton that sparkling rosé had been added to the wine choices, she’d slipped in here for one last tour of the room.
She took her time, making sure places were correctly set, cutlery and glass were spotless, and each table display of pink roses dewy perfection.
Building this function suite had been the best thing her father had ever done.
Although only seventeen at the time, Ruan had included her in every aspect of the build.
She had become an integral part of the creation of this room with its bi-fold doors leading out onto a stunning glass and chrome edged balcony.
On this early June morning, the rhododendrons in the hotel gardens were a perfect explosion of reds, creams and purples.
A flawless backdrop for this special day.
Finishing her inspection, she lingered for a moment, taking in the view once more before she finally left, taking the lift up to her room to change.
Luke wandered into the lounge bar of the Tarwin House Hotel, ordered a beer and leaned against the counter.
He could hear the pulse of the disco from the function suite.
In his pocket sat Martyn Riley’s invitation card.
It had come as a total surprise; he hadn’t expected the young salesman to include him in today’s celebrations.
Five years had made quite a difference. That’s how long he had been away from Carrenporth and Arcadia.
Three at uni and two travelling. There were still a few people who remembered him from his pre-uni days, but it was mostly a new, younger team there, some of whom didn’t even realise his connection to Gareth.
However, in the weeks he’d been back he seemed to be rubbing along quite well with the service team.
They were a good natured, noisy bunch who regularly hung out together after work.
Of course, he’d never be a part of their scene even if he wasn’t a member of the Hunter clan.
Too old. Too serious. Too everything, he mused.
‘Well, look at you all togged up,’ a loud voice said, disturbing his thoughts.
Service receptionist Debbie Mason sidled up to him at the bar, all lip gloss and red acrylic nails, her hair woven into an elaborate if rather precarious style on top of her head.
Luke smiled, aware of her speculative gaze.
In her early thirties, single and overweight, she had a reputation: one of being a woman on a mission, desperate to bag herself a man.
The guys in the department weren’t very kind.
Luke didn’t like the sort of language they used when they talked about her.
He knew they referred to her as Desperate Debbie or The Incredible Bulk.
Tonight, the first time he’d seen her out of work, made him realise how she’d come by such a title.
If she was serious about finding someone permanent in her life, a tight, low-cut dress and trowelled on make-up were sending out all the wrong signals.
‘Fancy buying a girl a drink then?’ She nudged his elbow and gave him a cheeky wink as she heaved herself onto an adjacent bar stool.
Luke caught a strong smell of alcohol competing with the perfume she wore, which clearly accounted for her unusually familiar manner.
‘And before you ask,’ she leaned and whispered seductively in his ear, ‘my poison is Prosecco.’
Attracting Carl the barman’s attention, he ordered her a glass.
She sat beside him sipping quietly as he chatted to Carl about his travels in South East Asia.
Throughout his conversation he caught her gaze from the corner of his eye, plotting, no doubt, how to get him back to her place for the night.
Well, that was definitely not going to happen.
A group of hotel guests arrived and Carl moved up the bar to deal with their pre-dinner order, giving her the opportunity she had been looking for.
‘So,’ she said as she set her glass down on the bar, ‘fancy finding you here this evening. Alone as well.’ She licked her lips and smiled. ‘I was sure the guys said you had a girlfriend.’
Luke sensed the beginning of a fishing expedition with him as the prime catch.
‘Did they?’ He gave a non-committal shrug, wanting to avoid responding to a dangerous question like that.
‘Well, have you?’
‘Have I what?’ He decided to play dumb.
‘A girlfriend.’ She rolled her eyes. ‘What’s the matter with you?’
‘Nothing’s the matter, Debbie, I’m just here having a quiet drink.’
‘You’re not invited to the wedding do then?’ She changed the subject as a group carrying brightly wrapped gifts and bound for the evening party passed by.
‘Yes, as a matter of fact I am.’
‘Honestly?’ She smirked, evidently not believing him.
‘Yes, honestly.’ He pulled the invitation from his back pocket and showed it to her.
She snatched it from him, studying it closely.
‘It says plus one here.’ She stabbed a sparkly acrylic nail at the card. ‘Same as mine. Well,’ she said, a self-satisfied smile surfacing, ‘as we’re both on our own why don’t we hook up for the evening? Go together.’
‘I don’t think …’ he began, but she had already drained her Prosecco glass and hauled herself off the stool. ‘Come on, handsome,’ she said, tugging at his arm. ‘You won’t get a better offer this evening.’
He had no idea how much she’d had to drink before she’d arrived but her boisterous behaviour was beginning to attract attention.
Carl leaned over the bar. ‘You need to get her out of here, Luke,’ he hissed, nodding towards the group he had just served.
They stood casting glances in their direction, their expressions a mixture of embarrassment and disapproval.
‘If Nathan walks in and sees this he won’t be pleased.
This is a four star hotel, not the local Jug and Bottle. ’
Luke sighed, finished his lager, and manoeuvred Debbie in the direction of the passageway that led to the function suite.
At the end he could just make out the entrance and beyond, the pulsating lights of the disco.
Hopefully, once inside he could lose her and she’d waste no time latching onto some other unfortunate victim.
Debbie followed him quite happily, a smile on her face, no doubt under the impression she’d got her man and they were an item for the evening.
Not if I can help it, he thought grimly.
The room was in semi-darkness and full of people.
Some were dancing, the strobe above making their movements erratic as its white light moved over their bodies.
Others were sitting at tables, chatting, some waiting for those congregating around the bar to return with drinks.
He noticed the buffet set along one end of the room on a long table covered with a white cloth, the remaining tiers of the wedding cake seated in its centre.
‘More Prosecco, please,’ a whispery voice in his ear demanded, as her hand slipped over his wrist, ‘and make it rosé this time, will you?’ she slurred, then without warning let go of him.
She almost fell, grabbing a nearby table and pushing herself upright, much to the surprise of those sitting there.
‘Little girls’ room.’ She hiccupped and waved a finger in the direction of the toilets before she stifled a giggle and disappeared.
Watching her leave, Luke realised it was the perfect time to abandon her and head for the door and home. About to leave, he ran into Kieran carrying a tray of drinks.
‘All right, Luke, mate?’ He looked around puzzled. ‘Going already? Past your bedtime, is it?’
‘No, I’ve only just arrived,’ Luke said, one eye on the door, anticipating Debbie’s return at any moment.
‘What’s up then?’
‘Debbie. She latched onto me in the lounge bar. She’s gone to powder her nose. She’s had a skin full already.’ He cupped Kieran’s shoulder and moved to one side. ‘I need to leave. Now.’
‘What?’ Kieran looked at him as if he was mad.
‘You mean you’re gonna let that daft bird ruin your evening?
Tonya and Martyn will be real upset if they find you’ve left.
Come with me,’ he gestured with his head towards the far corner, ‘there’s safety in numbers.
She won’t bother you while you’re with us. ’
Luke followed him over, feeling a complete prat.
Did he honestly need this gang of young service technicians protecting him?
Wasn’t he man enough to sort out one drunken female?
Well yes, given a different place and time he would have been.
But this was Tarwin House and Carl had only just reminded him of the kind of behaviour expected from customers.
Better then to look like a limp-wristed idiot than to cope with another tongue-lashing from the assertive Ms T, who would more than likely turn up should any trouble occur.
Kieran set down the tray and began handing round the drinks. The small group greeted Luke like a long lost friend and, as they made room for him, Kieran returned to the bar to get him a beer.
He was still there when Debbie returned, anxiously scanning the room for him.
Then with a shrug she joined the queue at the bar.
Luke continued to watch her as she used her considerable weight to push her way to the front.
Moments later she emerged with a glass and a wine bottle in her hands just as two of the girls from Sales arrived.
The three of them embraced like old buddies, admiring each other’s dresses.
Smiling, Debbie brandished the bottle at them and indicated an empty table.
While she seated herself, the other two went to the bar for glasses.
‘I think you’re safe now,’ Kieran said with a grin as he returned with two beers, handing one to Luke. ‘She won’t bother you any more this evening.’
‘Let’s hope not,’ Luke said, raising his bottle and tapping it against the others.
The evening passed relatively quickly. The alcohol flowed, the boys became noisier, the laughter louder.
Luke, keeping his own drinking to a sensible level, had been half listening to their conversations, not trusting Debbie to stay away from him.
With almost an hour left before the night ended he watched her approach the DJ.
He had been asking for guest requests and, climbing unsteadily onto his platform, she mouthed something, stepped down with a grin and made a grab for Tonya’s brother, Fergus, who had been standing nearby with a drink in his hand.
Nothing, Luke decided, looked worse than an overweight woman who’d had too much to drink making a complete spectacle of herself.
The poor lad stood no chance as she hauled him out onto the dance floor as the first strains of ‘Lady in Red’ drifted from the speakers.
Fergus Brown was no lightweight but trying to manoeuvre Debbie, laughing and wriggling like an eel, around the floor while trying to avoid the other dancers soon became impossible.
Luke held his breath as the couple neared the buffet table.
Debbie chose that moment to break free, drifting around, arms in the air, totally lost in another world as she immersed herself in the music.
At first the other dancers managed to avoid her but, once she began wind-milling her arms, a collision seemed inevitable and when it came she lost her footing, tripped and crashed straight into one of the tables, sending food, plates, cutlery and glass everywhere.
The music stopped, the lights went up. Everyone came to a standstill, staring in disbelief.
‘Didn’t you just know she’d do that?’ Kieran rocked with laughter. ‘Look at her. What a state she’s in.’
Luke looked around the room. He knew Tonya and Martyn had gone for a walk in the floodlit grounds to get some fresh air, and both sets of parents had already said their goodbyes to everyone. No one, it appeared, seemed to be taking charge of this catastrophe.
He watched as Debbie struggled to get up, only to slide back onto the floor as she slipped on the trampled remnants of sandwiches and vol-au-vents.
As she sat there in a miserable heap, he noticed her hand was bleeding.
Why couldn’t anyone see her injury? Why were they all staring as if she were some strange exhibit in a zoo?
Then some guy pulled his mobile from his back trouser pocket and aimed it at her, and something inside Luke snapped.
He got to his feet and strode over to join them.
‘Right, enough,’ he said, pushing the would-be photographer out of the way and easing people back to clear a space around Debbie.
With Fergus’s help he hauled her to her feet and found her a seat.
Someone from the bar must have reported what had happened as a couple of uniformed staff appeared and started to clear up the mess.
Luke checked the cut on her hand, which thankfully turned out to be nothing more than a smear of ketchup.
Debbie looked a sorry sight. Mascara ran down her cheeks, seeping into her make-up, her elaborate hairstyle had collapsed into an untidy mess around her face and she looked thoroughly miserable.
As the disco started up once more, the lights dimmed and couples took to the floor again. Kieran joined him. ‘Just to let you know the boss lady’s arrived,’ he warned. ‘She’s at the bar.’
Luke glanced over to where Cat stood talking to bar manager Matt Carson. Then with a nod, she left and headed over to them.
‘She’s all yours,’ Kieran said with a wink, making a quick getaway back to his table.
‘Great,’ Luke muttered under his breath, bracing himself as he watched Cat Trevelyan approach.