Chapter 35
Prosecco – an Italian sparkling or semi-sparkling wine,
perfect for parties
S imona wouldn’t hear of the party being cancelled.
She agreed with Livvy that it was a way of sticking up two metaphorical fingers at whoever was doing the vandalising.
She also promised to keep a close eye on who might have a hand in the till.
‘Trust me,’ she’d said, tapping the side of her nose.
‘Everyone writes me off as a dumb blonde. It has its advantages to be thought stupid. No one takes any notice of me.’ Giggling, she’d added, ‘I get to see all sorts of things!’
At six thirty Livvy and Simona were shivering in Livvy’s frigid bedroom, high up in The George, primping their party outfits.
It had taken Livvy some soul-searching to decide what to wear.
For a working day she stuck to black trousers, a white shirt and comfortable shoes, a legacy of her time working in hotels.
Dull but practical when you spent the whole time on your feet.
She was desperate to wear the dress Simona had given her but part of her longed to wear it for the first time when Mark would have a chance to see it.
He’d never really seen her dressed up. Even at the church service, she’d had her close-fitting wool dress covered up by a coat.
Then she decided. It went against her beliefs to dress up for a man; she’d dress for her own satisfaction and wear her new, gorgeous, glittering gown for herself.
Having washed and deep conditioned her hair, she let Simona help her put it into a messy, sophisticated updo with casual tendrils escaping onto her neck.
It certainly made a change from her usual ponytail.
Simona had also, over a couple of glasses of Prosecco, painted her nails a deep velvety red.
‘It’s so lovely to have some girly time,’ she whispered, as she admired Livvy’s nails. ‘You’re going to be the belle of the ball, kitten. You look like a real diva!’
‘That’s what I’ll do then. Embrace my inner diva.’ Livvy giggled.
‘You, a diva? Darling, that’s about as far from you as could possibly be.’
Livvy grinned. ‘That’s the point. And, may I say how glam you look in your white dress.’
Simona preened. ‘Always wanted to be Marilyn.’ She patted her hair, backcombed sixties style. ‘It looks good, doesn’t it? Might regret these heels come midnight, though.’
‘You and me both.’ Livvy stuck out her stilettoed foot. ‘These bad boys are going to be agony. But, you know what they say, you haven’t had a good night if you can’t wait to get the shoes off.’
Simona suddenly caught Livvy’s hand and clutched it to her chiffon-coated bosom. ‘I’m so glad you’ve come to town, Liv. I feel I’ve made a really good friend and I’ve had such fun working in the pub. It’s made me feel alive again and I haven’t felt that for a long time.’
Livvy hugged her. ‘I can’t tell you how much you mean to me too,’ she said realising it for the first time.
‘I’ve never had many women friends. Never kept many friends full stop.
My parents were always moving onto somewhere new, then they sent me to boarding school and most of my classmates lived abroad.
’ She released her. ‘It’s good to have a mate.
My bestie’s moved to the US and, now she’s pregnant with twins, I can feel us drifting apart. ’
‘Goodness. Twins. And yes, it happened to me when my girlfriends had their children. We grew apart, had little in common. But they’ve come back.
’ Simona giggled impishly. ‘Rounder and with bags under their eyes but looking for a bit of fun again. I’m off to Klosters in the new year skiing with a couple of them, actually. It’ll be good to reconnect.’
‘Just don’t tell them they look bigger and older,’ Livvy said, aghast.
Simona made a face and zipped a finger across her lips. ‘I shall concentrate on having some girly time and stay silent.’
Livvy laughed. Simona was outrageously naughty and quite possibly completely amoral, but she was good fun. She was a good distraction and she needed that tonight. ‘I’m enjoying this girly time.’
‘Oh so am I. So am I.’ Simona enveloped her in another scented embrace. ‘And I have a feeling all your worries will come to nothing, kitten,’ she whispered.
‘I hope so. God, Simona, I need to let rip tonight. I need to party.’
Standing up decisively and straightening her dress, teetering ever so slightly on her heels, Simona added, ‘And now, are you ready, wingman?’
Livvy allowed herself to be pulled up. ‘I most certainly am!’
The party was proving a roaring success.
The Christmas spirit was alive and well and being thoroughly celebrated.
Even Norman turned up. Ostensibly to see Angel, he stayed on to drink cider.
Eli had the soundtrack sorted and played it loud.
A succession of Christmas bangers got people on their feet.
Someone had spread the rumour that it was fancy dress, and Livvy was astonished at how many people had embraced the concept.
‘This town loves any excuse to dress up, even when they’re not supposed to. Actually, especially when they’re not supposed to!’ Simona trilled, as she began to drag Darrell to the middle of the crowd to dance to ‘Step into Christmas’.
‘Maybe I should have opened up the restaurant and cleared a space,’ Livvy yelled back. ‘It’s awfully crowded in here.’
Simona batted off her concerns. ‘Use it as an excuse to get up close and personal, kitten.’ She blew a kiss at Darrell. ‘I am.’
Despite being desperate to enjoy herself, Livvy felt a wave of despondency overcome her.
The one person she craved to get up close and personal with wasn’t here and, despite what Simona had said earlier, she still wasn’t sure how Mark felt about her.
He was nice to her but he was nice to everyone and his behaviour had given her nothing but friendship vibes.
Finding a space at the bar, which was serving as party snack central, she leaned against it and observed.
Popping a crab vol-au-vent into her mouth, she chewed thoughtfully.
Despite the return of her low mood, she couldn’t help her lips twitching into a smile at the sight before her.
Jonquil and her husband were bopping away. The chimney sweep was dressed as a fairy complete with wand. ‘Always wanted to be Tinkerbell,’ Livvy heard her shout. ‘Ooh, Little Saint Nick,’ she yelled as the Beach Boys replaced Elton John. ‘Got to love the old ones.’
Brittany was doing some too cool for school moves, along with Jen, Karl’s wife.
Stewie, having a rare night off from the kitchen was dancing with Candice and even Gerry’s group, dressed up as cowboys, were strutting their stuff and seemed to be behaving themselves.
The Happy Christmas banners, balloons and flashing lights all added to the slightly frenetic mood.
Livvy laughed out loud as a crowd of dinosaurs – Barbara and her colleagues from the museum – turned up. If she and the pub got through next year, she vowed to make this an annual event. She took another vol-au-vent, this time turkey in a white sauce.
‘Bit retro but always go down well at parties.’ It was Fabio. Wearing a navy velvet dinner jacket and bow tie he looked devilishly handsome.
‘Hi, Fab. Glad you could make it.’
‘Only popped in to see how it’s going. Have to get back to Mama. You know, babe, you should do this for a New Year’s party. Clear the restaurant for dancing. Get in a proper sound system. Charge for entry. Have fireworks.’
‘Great idea. Too short notice for this New Year’s Eve though.’ She gazed at Fabio. He looked tense, a pucker of worry playing about his beautiful dark eyes. ‘You look very dashing. James Bond?’
He shrugged. ‘Whatevs.’
‘Do you know who spread the rumour it was fancy dress?’
‘No idea. Fun though.’
She plucked at her dress. ‘I didn’t get the memo but Simona says I pass muster as a diva.’
He turned to her, took her hand and lifted it to his mouth. ‘ Bella, ’ he whispered, staring into her eyes and kissing her fingers.
The compliment silenced her. Livvy snatched her hand away, worried it must smell of crab vol-au-vent.
They watched as Austin and Aggie, dressed as Fred and Wilma Flintstone, berate Eli for not having the music up loud enough.
‘That outfit is going to do nothing for Austin’s arthritis in this weather.’ Livvy giggled trying to take the heat out of Fabio’s gesture.
Fabio didn’t join in with the laughter. He caught her hand again. ‘Livvy, it’s probably not the time or place but I need to talk to you about something–’
‘Livvy! Stop standing there like a melon. Come and dance.’ Daisy dragged her away.
As Livvy looked back, she could see Fabio staring down, unseeing, at a tray of pigs in blankets and her heart went cold. Surely he wasn’t leaving?
She’d been dancing with Daisy and Lucie for about twenty minutes when a pair of hands encircled her waist, long narrow fingers digging in.
‘Olivia, may I say how delicious you look?’ It was Jason, his breath hot on her neck.
Twisting her round, he pulled her into him.
He was dressed in a Father Christmas outfit.
With his thin-rimmed black specs jutting out beneath a frizzy white wig, he looked the antithesis of a man bringing good cheer.
He was too lean and predatory. It was disconcerting.
‘Oh hello.’ Taken aback, she resented how he always managed to unnerve her. ‘Have you got yourself a drink?’
‘Had one earlier.’ He nodded. ‘Dance with me.’ He slid an arm around her back, his hand cold on the exposed bare skin where her dress dipped down low. He pulled her close. It all felt very sixth form disco dancing like this to Bob Dylan’s ‘Here Comes Santa’.
She moved away from him a little. ‘Are you having a good time?’
‘I am now.’ His smile glittered down at her.
He reminded her of a black cat, all pale-eyed and watchful. A shiver of revulsion ran through her. ‘Are you staying long?’
‘That rather depends.’
The music changed. David Essex’s mournful ‘A Winter’s Tale’ came on. Some guests moaned but others took the opportunity for a slow dance. Jason put a hand on her bottom and pressed her into his groin.
‘If you’ll excuse me, I rather think it’s time to go and check on how the bar is doing.’ Removing his hand in a deliberate gesture she stepped away from him.
As she went to go Jason gripped her upper arm. His fingers dug in. It was painful. ‘Always working,’ he sneered. ‘Makes Livvy a very dull girl.’
‘But I am working, Jason. This is my pub.’ She gave him a tight smile, wondering how drunk he was. ‘I need to go and check on Angel too.’
‘Angel?’
‘My dog. She might not like all this noise.’
He made a moue of disgust. It told her all she needed to know of his opinion on dogs.
The pale eyes were almost hypnotising. And filled with a strange mixture of lust and, could it be hate?
But why would he hate her? She walked away, checked that Karl and Eli were okay at the bar and fled into the kitchen.
Angel was fast asleep in her bed, unbothered by the music, but she’d been the ideal excuse to get away.
Pouring a long cold glass of water, Livvy was annoyed to find her hands shaking.
Bastard. She should tell the man where to go.
It was difficult though; he was a customer. Tact needed, Livvy old girl. Tact.
The springer stirred in her bed, rolling over for a tummy rub.
As Livvy bent down to the dog, she forced a laugh.
‘Wonder if Dad has ever been hit on, Angel, girl? Bet he has. What did he do about it, eh?’ She promised to message him to ask.
Maybe it was finally time to admit there were some things she needed help with.
In the meantime, she’d do all she could to keep away from Jason Lemmon.