Chapter 11
Eleven
English Romantic painter. Known for dramatic watercolours, landscapes and seascapes. Try out large scale colour washes. Sunset background with black sugar paper silhouettes.
(Taken from Calliope Thorne’s teaching notes.)
Sandy Vistas was a large rambling Victorian villa with an enormous garden.
Higher up God Almighty Hill than Sea Haven House, it had spectacular views, not just over the cliffs to the east but of the sun currently setting out its glory westwards.
It was just dipping its toe into the sea and a vivid orange, rippled with pink and purple, spread over sky and water.
As the others opened the garden gate and headed around a tall hedge to the sounds of revelry, Callie caught her breath and held back, letting them go ahead.
She couldn’t resist pausing to take some pictures on her phone.
A painting of a sunset was clichéd beyond belief but there was no denying its beauty.
Scope for an abstract? The colours were irresistible.
Maybe add in some 3D where the golden streaks pierced through?
Gold foil perhaps. Ideas formed and reformed in her head, swirling around as much as the clouds above.
‘Absolutely marvellous, isn’t it?’
Callie had been so lost in the view she hadn’t noticed Johnny’s Aunt Sybil approach. Dressed in flowing lime green linen she was as colourful as the sunset – and clashed horribly.
‘Nature giving us a jolly good show,’ Sybil continued. ‘Top hole. Can’t beat it I say.’ She thrust her arm through Callie’s and forcefully tugged her forward. ‘Carrie, isn’t it? Come along. You must tell me all about yourself.’
‘It’s Callie.’
‘That’s right. Carrie. I never forget a name. Let’s grab some vittles. Stomach feels like the old throat’s been cut.’
Callie looked around frantically searching for Johnny, or even Jessica to rescue her from the rather alarming Aunt Sybil but they’d disappeared into the higher part of the garden nearest the house and which was crowded.
White lights had been strung up all around the garden but were only just warming up into illumination.
Against the light spilling out from the open French windows of the house all she could see were flitting silhouettes, none recognisable. Most of the garden was now in a deep and slightly damp shade.
Johnny’s mother brushed past. A cloud of Diorissimo enveloped them.
‘Oh there you are, Sybs,’ she said, sounding exasperated.
‘Can’t find anyone, it’s getting so glum.
The band is complaining it’s too dark for them to see to play, the torches should have been lit by now and those solar powered lights are worse than useless. ’
‘Fret ye not, Dorrie. We’ll grab ourselves some meat and all will be well.’
‘That’s just it, Syb,’ Dorrie said, increasingly agitated.
‘The catering team have only just arrived. It’ll take an age for them to get the barbeques hot enough to cook anything and the pig roast hasn’t turned up at all.
Why doesn’t anyone do their jobs properly anymore?
It would have been easier for Sid and the boys to run the barbeque themselves, but you know how Sid likes to burn his sausage. ’
‘Has the champagne been opened?’ Sybil boomed.
‘I’ve absolutely no idea. Sid’s in charge of all that.’
‘Then, all hands to the deck, let’s get the guests sloshed and they won’t notice how long they have to wait for a bit of snap. Come along, Carrie.’
Callie felt rather than saw Dorrie peer at her. ‘Oh is that Callie? How good of you to come. It’s rather a disaster, I’m afraid. Isn’t Jonathan with you? He really shouldn’t run off and leave his guest alone.’
‘She’s not alone, Dorrie,’ Sybil said. ‘I’m looking after the gel.’
‘That’s rather what I’m afraid of. Come along both.
I think a glass of bubbly is in order. Everything always seems so much brighter after fizz, doesn’t it?
This way, I think the booze has been set up on the terrace.
I have to say it’s far chillier than anticipated but that’s England in August for you.
At least we won’t need wine coolers I suppose. ’
‘Colder than a badger’s arse in the snow,’ Sybil put in.
‘Yes, quite, but not a terribly helpful observation, Sybs. The patio heaters should have been turned on by now. Oh it’s all such a mess.’
Callie followed Dorrie and Sybil to some steps which led up to the brightly lit terrace and the sound of chatter.
Taking each woman by the elbow, she helped them up and, once her eyes had adjusted, spotted several tables covered in white cloth and groaning with alcohol.
It bore no resemblance to any barbeque Callie had ever attended.
Servers, dressed impeccably in white shirts, black trousers and long khaki aprons stood behind, heads down, shoulders slumped, engrossed in their phones.
Indignant in fuchsia pink and kitten heels, Dorrie marched over to them, had stern words and they leaped into action. She returned with three champagne flutes. Handed one to Callie and Sybil in turn and downed her own in one.
‘I say, steady on, old girl. Got to keep a clear head at these things. Otherwise the whole caboodle will fall apart.’
‘But it always does, Sybs, it always does without me. I don’t know what Sid has been up to. He’s probably hit the port. But really, you simply can’t leave your guests without a drink.’
‘Just as well he wasn’t left in charge of his sausage then,’ Sybil replied stoutly. The sisters caught each other’s eyes and burst into giggles.
Callie stared at them. They were unlike anyone she’d ever met and certainly nothing like her own dour, joyless parents. She joined in with the laughter.
‘Ah, there you are.’ Johnny appeared and gave his mother and aunt a kiss.
‘Hello, Jonathan darling,’ Dorrie said as she proffered her cheek. ‘You really must look after your guests better. Poor Callie has been left to the tender mercies of your Aunt Sybil.’
‘Rather harsh, Dorrie. I took Carrie under my wing.’ Sybil emptied her glass. ‘Off for another,’ she declared and barged her way through the crowd now three deep at the makeshift bar.
‘I’m so sorry, Calliope. I looked around and one minute you were behind me, the next you’d gone. Jess needed help to cart all her stuff into the sitting room and then I got cornered by aunts Becky and Maria.’
‘And I expect The Gruesome Twosome gave you quite the grilling,’ his mother said.
‘Couldn’t get away.’
Dorrie tapped him on the arm. ‘Well, you know the answer to that.’ She nodded meaningfully at Callie.
‘Thanks, Ma. Subtle as a flying brick.’
‘Just saying, darling boy. The solution is right in front of you,’ Dorrie said airily.
‘Now, you two, I must away and sort out this absolute dregs of a party, otherwise it’ll be Christmas before anyone eats.
Look after her, Johnny, and don’t let Sybs pounce again.
’ She leaned nearer and hissed, ‘She’s drinking. ’
Dorrie ducked gracefully between several couples and glided away, a vision in shimmering pink chiffon. Johnny glanced ruefully at Callie. ‘You okay?’
She laughed up at him. ‘I’m having a wonderful time. It may be the champagne talking on an empty stomach, but it’s been great fun so far.’
‘Fun? I’ve never heard my Aunt Sybil be described as fun.’ He steered her away from the crush on the terrace, down the steps and towards a patio heater which blazed with a welcoming heat. ‘Overbearing, feisty, fiercely intelligent, prone to the occasional bizarre idiom, but fun? No.’
Reaching the heater, they stood underneath it. She gazed up at him, enjoying the warmth and the sight of his dark hair glowing orange in the heat and shivered a little.
‘Are you cold?’ Johnny’s brow crinkled in concern. Then he breathed out, ‘You look very lovely, by the way.’
Callie sent up a silent prayer that, despite many of the other guests being dressed to the nines in enough sequins to furnish movie night on Strictly, her black jeans and white silky vest didn’t look too out of place.
She was chilly and goosebumps were rising on her upper arms. Nothing, though, would induce her to move and spoil the spell.
Shaking her head she wondered what Johnny would do if she stretched up and kissed him.
It was a terrible idea but an intoxicating one.
She suddenly became very aware of her naked shoulders and how deep the vest dipped at the front.
They smiled at one another and, at that moment, the garden burst into light.
Sidney Starling was lighting the great fire pits dotted around at intervals.
As he moved from one to the other flames shot into the night, sending fiery embers into the starlit sky.
It was impressive and Callie observed, with her teacher’s hat on, a health and safety nightmare.
In one corner of the garden, there was a flurry of activity as a bank of barbecues were fired up.
In the other, illuminated by the now brighter white lights, a quartet began to play something softly jazzy and classic.
‘The Way You Look Tonight’, she recognised.
Agonisingly romantic. Everyone cheered. One or two brave souls even ventured onto the lawn and began to dance.
Callie tore her eyes from Johnny’s and gazed around her.
The garden, having sunk into gloom, was now shimmering with light and heat and filled with gentle chatter and the clink of glasses.
It was like a grown-up fairyland. ‘I’ve never been to anything quite like this before,’ she whispered. ‘It’s amazing.’
Johnny followed her look and smiled. He gave a wry chuckle. ‘My mother likes to relive her days in showbusiness and loves to cut loose occasionally. She throws a good party.’
‘She certainly does.’ Callie turned to him. ‘Showbusiness?’
He frowned down at her. ‘I’ll fill you in sometime. Knowing Becky and Maria, all may become apparent later. I’m very glad you’re having a good time. But I need to ask you something.’