24. Chapter 24
24
T om watched as Katie sashayed off towards the bar area. He couldn’t take his eyes off the way the deep blue satin stretched across the curves of her bottom. The night in Pisa flashed into his mind—it was never far from his thoughts. He thought of how it had felt to run his hands over the soft skin beneath that dress.
‘Tom? Tom, are you okay?’ Martin jostled his arm. ‘You’re away with the fairies!’
Tom dragged his attention back to the room, to Martin’s face before his and the questioning look on Gemma’s face behind him.
‘Sorry, was, uh, it was…’
‘You’re nervous, no doubt,’ Gemma chimed in. ‘It’s a big night.’
Tom wasn’t nervous at all. Winning would be great, but he wasn’t nervous about the evening’s events. He was happy to grab at any plausible explanation.
‘Yes, that’s it,’ he smiled. ‘A bit nervous. That’s all.’
Gemma nodded in understanding. ‘Martin is up for two awards, but he’s also had two drinks for every award he’s nominated for, so he’s too well lubricated to feel nervous at this point!’
Martin shook his head in mock protest as Tom laughed and took a healthy swig of his own drink.
Tonight was the last night of the pact. The final event, they had agreed to support one another through. After this, he and Katie were done. They had each held up their end of that bargain, struck in the brasserie almost three months ago now—two events apiece. He thought of Katie’s laughing face at the spa, their time in Pisa, Katie now in that dress. He felt like Cinderella, dreading midnight, when it would all go back to the way it was before.
Maybe they’d carry on seeing each other. But as what? He didn’t want to just be friends. Were they even friends now? More like co-conspirators in some hokey, small-town revenge-ish drama. What would be left when that was all over?
Theirs was a small town, and theirs was an odd little tale that few would ever know, and even fewer would care about. But in his world, Katie shone like the brightest star, and all he could do was try to think of ways to drag the night out for as long as possible. Find ways to make this final night last into tomorrow.
He felt a brush against his shoulders. It was Katie returning. She lowered herself gracefully into her seat, folding her dress neatly over her slender legs. She seemed distracted for a moment, her eyes flicking about the room as if looking for someone.
‘I hope you’re not expecting any wardrobe malfunctions this evening…’ He murmured, running his eyes over Katie’s dress. As the words left his mouth, he felt he was walking a fine line between flirtatious humour and lasciviousness. And he wasn’t sure which side of the line he’d landed.
Katie held his gaze, and he wished the words unsaid.
Then she leaned in, the neckline of her dress falling dangerously low. Tom swallowed and dragged his eyes up to her face. She was close enough that he could smell her perfume.
‘I think this dress is made of sterner stuff,’ Katie said, with a smile on her face, her eyes fixed on his. ‘Which is a shame.’
Tom stared back at her, his mouth falling open like a guppy.
From the corner of his eye, he could see Brian and another senior partner snaking their way towards them through the tables. Then Brian, clutching two pints, both for himself, was standing across the table from them, bobbing his head maniacally, beer slopping out of both glasses and dribbling over his fingers.
‘Tom,’ he brayed. ‘Who is this lovely creature? Is she with you? And if so, why?’
He honked at his own joke.
Tom cringed.
But Katie was gracious and kind. She stood to greet Brian and reached across the table. Brian wiped his beer-dampened hand on his trousers before clamping Katie’s small hand in his. Brian blushed with pleasure at the attention of this stunning woman, and Tom hurried to stand up and make formal introductions.
‘Katie, this is Brian, the senior accounts manager at work. Brian, this is Katie, a…’ he hesitated. Friend felt somehow too cold and casual for all they had been through, but it was the only thing that felt accurate. ‘My friend.’
Brian, who was still clasping Katie’s hand across the table, forcing her to stay leaning forward, lit up.
‘Just friends? How lovely! We must talk about this one,’ he waggled a finger towards Tom. ‘He’s clever, but he’s a tricky one!’
Katie, who had wrangled her hand back from Brian’s clammy paws, laughed.
‘I am sure you keep him in line, Brian.’
Brian, captivated, stared at her for a moment before finding his voice. ‘Oh, I do.’ He snorted. ‘I keep him out of trouble and on the straight and narrow!’
Katie smiled. ‘What would he do without you?’
Brian grinned and then turned to welcome a slight but sturdy looking woman into the fray.
‘Tom, Katie,’ Brian said, beaming, ‘may I introduce my wife, Tracie. Now she’s the one who’s really in charge!’
Tracie’s face was gently lined around her eyes and mouth in a way that made it seem that she had only ever smiled, never frowned. She laughed at her husband’s joke as if she’d never heard it before and tapped him on the arm as if telling him off. Brian’s smile stretched even wider and he blew her a kiss before reaching to pull out her chair for her.
‘Lovely to see you again, Tom,’ Tracie said as she took her seat. ‘And a pleasure to meet you, Katie.’
The other partners and senior staff had joined them at the table while they were talking. Brian took it upon himself to do the introductions, and then everyone was seated. The venue flashed the lights for a second time to signal to everyone to take their seats.
Tom rested his arm across the back of Katie’s chair and leaned in. He wished he could just stay frozen in that position, leaning into her, the curve of her neck inches from his mouth, strands of her hair softly curling onto her breast bone, the swell of her breasts. He mentally slapped himself.
‘Sorry about that,’ he murmured. ‘Brian is a bit over the top, but he’s been with the firm for years.’
Katie turned to him, her face just a few inches away. The lights slowly went down, and the stragglers at the bar started hurrying to their seats.
‘I quite like him,’ she said, her breath gently fanning his face as she whispered. ‘He’s like an overgrown puppy. Just wants everyone to play and be nice to him.’
Tom looked at her, her eyes dark and unreadable in the dimmed lighting.
‘I know he winds you up a bit,’ she murmured, ‘and he’s perhaps a little old-fashioned in his approach,’ Tom raised an eyebrow, ‘but look at him.’
Tom looked across the table to where Brian was holding court between Steve and Carly, two of the senior partners. He was smiling, face flushed, half of one of his pints gone already. Brian caught Tom’s eye and grinned broadly, called cheers across the table and raised his glass.
Tom and Katie smiled and tipped their glasses in his direction as the stage lights came up and the master of ceremonies boomed into the microphone.
‘Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to the 18 th Annual Barnsford and District Business Awards Gala Dinner.’ An uneven cheer went up around the room. The tables with the greatest number of empty glasses clustered on them cheered the loudest.
‘Dinner will be served shortly. We will begin the award ceremonies after the main course, then complete the final categories, including Best Local Business and Best New Business, while coffee is being served. Please keep your seats while food service is underway. Thank you.’
Multiple guests promptly ignored the request to stay seated and headed for the bar to top up drinks, slaloming with waiting staff with arms stacked with plates on route.
Dinner passed without major incident. The chicken was a little dry (the town hall wouldn’t be winning best catering any time soon), and Gemma’s vegetarian meal only arrived when the other plates were cleared. Brian twice asked why she was a vegetarian, seeming to have entirely forgotten about the first time he asked, tearing lamb off the bone as he did so. Gemma took it in good humour while Martin sat beside Tom and muttered, ‘Shut up, Brian,’ under his breath.
Brian told a couple of risqué jokes that were barely funny back in the 1980s, while Tracie shook her head and Katie laughed heartily, which greatly gratified Brian.
The lights flashed again, and the crowd, now rather well-oiled, all cooed, ‘Ooooooh,’ then laughed collectively at their wit.
‘This is it now,’ Brian advised from across the table, seemingly unaware of his volume. A cache of empty pint glasses was stacked before him. ‘The awards. Why we’re all here,’ he told Katie, as if she couldn’t guess.
People shuffled in their seats to turn and face the stage as the MC stepped up to the mic.
‘I hope you all enjoyed your dinner,’ he said with a smile.
‘With relish!’ someone yelled.
The crowd guffawed, and the MC pursed his lips, a little irritated that a heckler was already getting more laughs.
‘Well then, on with the evening,’ he said, rapping his stack of crisp white envelopes on the lectern.
‘To our first award…’
Tom’s firm, Franklin-Smith and Co Chartered Accountants, were not in the first few categories, some of which were business specific - Best Family Business, Best Digital Business, Best Mobile Business. They were competing in the bigger, broader categories - Best Local Business, Best Community Engagement, and Best Mentor for Martin.
To begin with, people were polite and restrained. Conversation was kept to a minimum as the MC worked his way through the categories. People clapped politely for each winner, and back at their tables award recipients clutched the ugly statuettes in their laps and passed them around to colleagues.
Now, the crowd was getting fidgety, having been sitting for over four hours. The MC was struggling to retain people’s attention, and the tables were, at best, fifty per cent occupied as people drifted towards the bar. The warm applause for each winner had dwindled to a pitiful smattering. Chatter and peals of laughter rolled across the room from the bar area.
‘And now,’ the MC intoned with great drama, ‘we move on to the Best Local Business category. The nominees are…’ He dropped the envelope and disappeared behind the lectern for a moment as he bent to retrieve it.
‘Home&Place Estate Agents, your supportive local estate agency.’
A glass shattered at the rear of the room, and a raucous cheer went up from the Home&Place table. Tom glanced over and saw Melissa sitting there, clapping gaily. Ryan was nowhere in sight.
‘QMC Digital & Security, setting up and securing your online presence.’
A bulb started to flicker in one of the stage lights, giving the MC a slight disco effect.
‘And Franklin-Smith and Co, Chartered Accountants.’
The Franklin-Smith table was half empty, and Tom craned his neck to see where everyone had gone. Brian and Carly had last been seen heading towards the bar, and Steven was stood off in a far corner with his phone pressed to one ear and a finger in the other.
The MC turned the card over with a flourish. In an attempt to regain some control over the room, he bellowed, ‘And the winner is….!’
The venue doors banged as a couple exited noisily into the lobby. The MC gave their retreating backs a withering look.
‘Franklin-Smith and Co Chartered Accountants!’
A muted cheer went up around the room from the remaining guests who were present, sober and awake.
Tom strained towards the back of the room looking for Brian or Carly to appear, hurrying to collect the award. Neither were to be seen. Steven was still on the phone, oblivious to the turn of events. Martin and Tom glanced at each other.
Glancing across at the Home&Place team, Tom watched as a man he recognised as the owner tossed his napkin into the floral centrepiece and filled his wine glass to the brim. Melissa got up and stalked towards the rear of the room. Ryan was still missing in action.
The MC squinted into the room against the lights.
‘Franklin-Smith Accountants? Is anyone here to collect this award?’
The MC looked into the wings, card in one hand, ugly statuette in the other. Someone must have said something to him because he nodded curtly and tried once more.
‘Would Franklin-Smith Accountants like to please come and collect their award?’
Martin was pushing his chair back now. ‘Come on,’ he said to Tom. ‘It seems that’s our cue.’
Tom hesitated, glancing at the near-empty bottle of red wine in front of Martin and the tell-tale blue-black staining on Martin’s lips. Martin might not be best placed to represent the firm right now. ‘You know Brian wants to do this,’ Tom said. ‘He said it was his special moment.’
‘He has to be here to have his special moment,’ Martin hissed back, heaving Tom up with him. ‘Come on.’
‘What will you say?’ Tom asked as they weaved their way between seats to the steps at the side of the stage.
The applause, which had started off warmly, couldn’t sustain itself for their walk all the way to the stage. It dwindled to a few slow claps, which managed to sound sarcastic as they climbed the stage steps.
‘I think I’ll go with thanks,’ Martin hissed under his breath, wine-bright eyes mischievous. ‘Then see what happens.’
Tom grinned.
The MC looked visibly grateful to them as they crossed the wooden boards towards him.
‘Here to accept this award on behalf of Franklin-Smith Accountants is….’ He trailed off, realising he didn’t know their names, and just stepped back into the shadows, handing over the microphone on the lectern to Tom and Martin.
From his new vantage point, Tom could see the entire room. By the door, Carly had realised what was happening and was grinning and giving them the thumbs up. He glanced at their table, where Katie smiled up at him. She looked luminescent in this light, her red hair like a beacon for him. He forgot where he was, forgot the earlier tension, and beamed back at her.
Martin was talking, and Tom tried to tune in to what he was saying.
‘We are so pleased,’ Martin was saying, ‘to accept this award on behalf of everyone at Franklin-Smith and Co Chartered Accountants and our clients. It’s an amazing team of people to work with, and we are so pleased to serve some of the biggest and most successful businesses in the area.’
Tom saw Brian re-enter the room and head to the bar, then stop as he suddenly realised who was on the stage.
Martin, the wine really kicking in now, had shifted gear and now seemed to think he had personally won the award. ‘And I would like to thank my wife and family for all their support. I wouldn’t be where I am without you.’ He held the ugly statuette aloft. ‘Gemma, thank you for all you do to help and encourage me. I knew when I met you all those years ago at that fresher’s party at uni that we’d go all the way together. And look at us now! I love you, Gemsy!’ he shouted.
Tittering laughter rippled around the room. Tom took Martin’s elbow before he could start to thank his parents and his primary school teachers and started to steer him off the stage. Brian stood stock-still at the other end of the room by the bar, jaw slack, an empty pint glass in a limp hand. He looked devastated to have missed his moment.
Gemma was laughing and covering her face with her hands. Beside her, Katie had one hand pressed to her stomach, her other hand smothering her laughter as her shoulders shook.
Tom didn’t know what possessed him next.
He left Martin swaying at the top of the steps, trying to hold the statuette aloft with both hands like the FA Cup, and in a few long strides, was back at the lectern, stepping in front of the MC who was counting how many envelopes he had left to get through.
‘Thank you, Martin,’ he said, nodding to his friend, and a few people cheered. ‘I would also like to thank all the staff of Franklin-Smith’s, particularly our dedicated senior accounts manager Brian Henshaw, who has been with the company for over twenty years and works tirelessly to do all he can to support the team and our clients.’ He saw Brian nod and drag a finger under one eye. ‘And our wonderful founders and managing partners, Carly and Steven, who provide such clear direction for the business and set the high standards we know have helped us to be here today.’
Then Tom glanced at Katie, not laughing now, gazing up at him from across the room.
‘And,’ he paused, considered what a bad idea this might be, then took a breath and plunged ahead. ‘I would like to thank Katie. She is probably the only person who knows what the past few months have been like for me. I am so grateful,’ his voice cracked on that last word, and he swallowed, ‘to have you in my life.’
Now that he and Martin had turned a perfectly ordinary local business awards dinner into an emotional Oscars acceptance ceremony, Tom crossed the stage, grabbed the swaying, teary-eyed Martin by the elbow, and they staggered down the steps.
The awkward silence that had accompanied them at first rapidly turned into drunken whoops and cheers as they stumbled back towards their seats. The MC set the remaining envelopes down on the lectern and shook his head.
Martin tripped over a chair leg on their way back to the table and balanced himself by planting a hand on a bald man’s head.
‘So, so sorry,’ he mumbled.
Tom, unable to look up at Katie, concentrated on navigating the path in Martin’s wake.
Martin collapsed into the chair beside Gemma and planted a big kiss on her lips.
‘You’re an idiot,’ Gemma said with a laugh.
‘Yes, but I’m your idiot,’ Martin replied with a happy, weepy grin.
Tom slid back into his seat beside Katie, still too nervous to look at her.
He felt her hand slide onto his leg and squeeze gently. She leaned into him. ‘That was very sweet,’ she said in a low voice.
‘Yes, well, couldn’t let Martin hog the limelight,’ Tom said gruffly.
He cleared his throat. He could feel her eyes on him, but he didn’t trust himself enough to meet her gaze.
Looking at her hand resting on his leg, he covered it with his own, his thumb brushing over the soft pad of skin between her thumb and wrist. Her hand turned over, fingers sliding up between his and closing over, palm to palm. Raising his eyes, he met her gaze. She was close, her face only inches from his. Her face looked happy, serene, and open. She squeezed his hand, and he leaned into her a little, creating a little private bubble of space around them. His eyes dropped to her lips before flicking back up.
‘Want to see the ugly statue we won?’ he asked.
She grinned. ‘Try and stop me.’