Chapter 47
CHAPTER 47
Beau got a reminder text from his mum when he was lying on his bed in his underpants, staring up at the ceiling. He didn’t know how he was going to get through this dinner at Olive’s with the people Sophie called the Gang. Since he’d got back from the visit to Gwen, he’d stayed out of the house as much as he could, working late in Olive’s studio. He had a few commissions to finish, but nothing he tried to make worked out; he spent most of his time blowtorching things away. He was thinking of changing his brand name to No Mojo Beau.
Who even was he now? A pathetic loser who’d got himself an amazing work opportunity and then been sacked because his dad had been knobbing the owner and got her up the duff. Twice. The old twat had a second family.
Thank you, darling dead Daddy – you utter bastard . Beau slammed the mattress hard with his fist. Now he had to live with not mentioning it to his mother or his brother or his uncles for the rest of their lives and he could never see his own darling little sister again – sisters!
Bloody hell.
And as his sisters were going to be regularly visiting their granny just round the corner from the house he was in, he would have to creep around in disguise in his own neighbourhood in case he bumped into them and accidentally mentioned to Juliet that he’d seen her nipples. From every angle. He put his hands over his face and groaned.
There was a knock at the door.
‘Yeah?’ he said, not very enthusiastically.
Tamar’s head appeared. That made him smile. One thing he could still enjoy – her company. The only reason he was going to the goddam dinner.
‘Are you ready?’ she asked. ‘No. I see you’re bed-y, not ready. You need to get going. It’s six forty-five and you know how Olive likes people to be on time.’
‘I don’t know what to wear,’ he said.
‘Go like that,’ said Tamar, laughing.
Niamh came in, wearing a bright pink eighties polyester dress, backwards. The zip was open all the way. ‘What’s the bants, people?’ she asked, throwing herself down on the bed next to Beau.
He felt himself stiffen. Not in a good way. He wished he had more clothes on.
‘Beau doesn’t know what to wear,’ said Tamar.
‘Can you throw me my dressing gown?’ he asked.
She took it off the hook on the door and tossed it over to him.
‘Do you like my outfit?’ asked Niamh.
‘Very nice,’ he said, squinting to try and block out the direct view he had of her left breast. He wished she wasn’t still wearing the ring he’d given her all that time ago.
‘You really need to get a move on, Beau,’ said Tamar.
‘Yes, you do,’ said Niamh, pinching the skin on his thigh through the fabric of the robe. He tried to inch away.
Tamar opened the wardrobe and pulled out one of his silk shirts. ‘Why don’t you wear your classic Prince Beau look, with the floppy shirt and the long scarf and the suit?’ she said. ‘I like this Beau, but I miss that one.’
‘I don’t,’ said Beau. ‘But you’ve given me an idea.’
He jumped off the bed, happy for an excuse to get away from Niamh. Just because they’d got it on once before didn’t mean he was always up for another roll around. He really liked Niamh, but he just wasn’t interested in that kind of a scenario.
It was going to be a difficult night.
Tamar, Niamh and Rey were waiting with Sophie in the kitchen when Beau made his entrance.
He was wearing his favourite suit with the silk shirt unbuttoned almost to his navel, the tails hanging out, a long paisley scarf, multiple rings on each finger – and a shaggy black wig on his head. He struck a pose in the door frame.
They all looked at him, silent – then burst out laughing.
‘Where did you get that syrup?’ said Rey. ‘Even Tippy wouldn’t wear that. It’s a shocker.’
‘What syrup?’ said Sophie, confused.
‘Syrup of figs – wig,’ said Beau. ‘It’s been in the dressing-up box forever. I’m so glad you hadn’t thrown it out. The fake me is now the real me. Let’s go and make this party happen.’
They arrived on the dot of seven.
‘Nice work,’ Olive said, as they walked into the kitchen. ‘Reckon Big Ben is chiming at this very moment.’
Cicely was already there and Sophie tried not to notice that Charlie wasn’t, grateful for the distraction when Olive noticed Beau’s wig.
‘Oh no, you’ve got the boufhead back!’ she said. ‘Where are my clippers?’
‘No need,’ said Rey, plucking the wig off Beau’s head and throwing it to Olive, who raised one long arm and caught it. She put it in her fruit bowl, draped over a melon.
‘That’s better,’ she said. ‘Now, who wants a drink?’
While everyone was busying around, Sophie glanced over at the table, checking the number of places that were laid. Nine. Charlie had messaged her that morning to say he’d be there, so where was he? She felt weirdly nervous. She hadn’t seen him since that day on Pett Level beach, a week before, because he’d been up in London having meetings with supermarkets. There’d been some WhatsApp exchanges, but she didn’t know how it was going to be between them in real life now.
He’d said then that he had feelings for her, but that they should ‘leave it’ because she was vulnerable – or something like that, she couldn’t quite remember. She’d felt much closer to him when he’d dropped her back home that afternoon, but with the subsequent gap, would that be gone?
Then she heard the front door open.
‘Here are Charlie and Agata,’ said Cicely. ‘He went round to walk her over here.’
Of course he did, thought Sophie. That’s exactly what Charlie would do. Why hadn’t she thought of that?
Tamar immediately went to help Agata to a chair, and Charlie came straight over to Sophie, kissing her on the cheek, his right hand squeezing her waist, on the side no one could see.
‘You look lovely,’ he whispered in her ear, lingering there a little longer than strictly necessary.
‘Thank you,’ said Sophie, feeling her pulse immediately quicken as she breathed in that now familiar smell. ‘You smell nice.’
‘Got the good gear on,’ he said. ‘Like I told you...’
When it was time for them to sit down, Olive asked Beau to sort out where everyone should go, which he was very happy to do because it meant he could put Niamh as far away from himself as possible – and Tamar nice and close.
‘Mum,’ he said, ‘you go there next to Niamh, then Agata, Rey, Tamar and Charlie, you’ll be here...’
Charlie came over with the two bottles of wine he’d just opened. ‘Well, that doesn’t work, Beau, old man,’ he said, ‘because we’re two to one, girls to blokes, so I can’t sit next to you.’ He clapped Beau on the shoulder and smiled at him. ‘Niamh,’ he said, in a voice that was very pleasant, but no one could argue with, ‘you swap with me.’
Niamh raced over to sit next to Beau.
He couldn’t believe it. How could he have made such a rookie error – putting Charlie next to himself? It was much better the way Charlie had done it, especially as Agata now had a man on either side. The only person who was in a worse position was him.
Without thinking, he turned to look at Niamh, to find her already grinning at him, her glass raised to clink. He raised his, without much enthusiasm, immediately turning away to raise it to Cicely, on his other side. He was just going to have to get to know her tonight, that was his only get out. He would be very interested in gardening. Topiary. That was the thing. He could talk about that.
After they clinked glasses, his eyes automatically flicked over Niamh’s head towards Tamar, to find she was already looking at him. They held each other’s gaze for a moment. Beau blinked. Had there been something in that look? Something different? He looked at her again, but she was talking to Sophie.
He glanced over at Charlie, who had just sat down again and immediately turned to talk to Agata. What a good bloke he was. Niamh was distracted, talking past him to Cicely, so he tried to tune in to listen to what Agata was saying to Charlie. That should be entertaining.
‘Smooth operator, Mr Charlie,’ she said. ‘Here you are sitting next to Sophie again.’
‘And next to you,’ said Charlie. ‘Don’t worry, I won’t ignore you.’
‘Are you sure?’ said Agata, smiling.
‘You don’t miss a thing, do you?’
Beau leaned forward a bit, under cover of reaching for the bowl of olives, hoping they wouldn’t notice him earwigging.
‘When you spend as much time on your own as I do,’ said Agata, ‘you get hypersensitive to the energies from people – and between people – when you are with them.’ She paused for a moment. ‘You are in love with her, aren’t you?’
‘Yes,’ said Charlie, after a moment. ‘I think it’s going that way.’
‘Good. Because I think she feels the same and you both deserve to be happy.’
The olive Beau had just stuffed into his gob on autopilot had nearly gone down his windpipe with the shock of this new revelation. Only a couple of days ago he’d found out his father had another family, with someone he knew, and now his mother had a fancy man. It was too much.
His coughing made Niamh turn towards him and start banging him on his back, much harder than was necessary.
‘Thanks,’ he croaked out. ‘I’m fine, I’ll just have some water.’
She stopped whacking him but left her hand on his back. Stroking it.
He stood up. Looking round for an excuse, he went over to Olive, who was still at the stove. ‘Can I help?’ he asked.
‘Perfect timing,’ she said. ‘I’ll put it on the plates and you can take it to the table.’
She dished out two plates of coq au vin, with a hearty portion of mashed potato and looked up at him. ‘Go on then.’
‘Keep going,’ he said. ‘I can take more than that.’
Olive looked sceptical but filled two more plates.
Beau put three of them on his left arm, picked up the fourth with his right hand and, holding the single plate above his head, rings glinting, headed for the table.
‘Bravo,’ said Charlie, spotting him as he came over to give the first plate to Agata. ‘Proper skills. Where did you learn that?’
‘I’ve done a lot of waiterising. Couldn’t really live in London on the funds from my rings.’
‘I bet you got good tips.’
‘I did.’
He served Cicely next, then came back to Sophie and round to Tamar.
By the time he got back to Olive, she had the next four plates ready and he took them to the table, going straight to Charlie.
‘Hey,’ said Niamh. ‘Ladies first.’
‘Age before beauty,’ said Charlie. ‘Thanks, mate, I’m starving.’
Everyone tucked in and while they were all engaged with that and chatting, Sophie felt Charlie’s right hand on her knee, while he ate with his left, continuing to seamlessly divide his above-table attention between her and Agata.
Sophie glanced at him nervously.
‘Don’t worry,’ he said, in a quiet voice. ‘The only person who might notice is Agata and she’s already worked it out.’
Sophie frowned slightly, wondering what he meant.
‘Do you remember I said on the beach that day that we should wait until the time is right,’ said Charlie. ‘Well, I think it’s right now.’
Sophie put in another mouthful of food to cover herself, quickly checking the rest of the table to see if anyone was looking at them. Rey was engrossed with Agata, Cicely was talking to Tamar, and Niamh and Olive were both looking at Beau.
‘Agata just asked me if I’m in love with you,’ said Charlie, putting a forkful of chicken into his mouth. He chewed for a moment, swallowed and then added, ‘I said it’s going that way.’
Sophie looked down at her plate, lost for words. Then she put her hand over his on her knee and squeezed it, tightly. It seemed a more efficient way of replying than trying to speak.
Beau was running out of excuses to leave the table. So far he’d got extra mash, filled up the water and topped up the salt. He was praying for someone to need seconds.
Niamh was pushing her food around her plate and mainly drinking. Her speech was getting slurred and spitty. Then he felt her hand reach out and find his thigh. High up and creeping north. He picked it up and put it on her leg but back it came. Several times. He started to stand up, but Olive leaned over to him.
‘Have you got ants up your arse?’ she asked him. ‘You’re up and down constantly.’
‘Yeah,’ said Rey. ‘What’s going on with you? Have you got springs?’
Beau wondered what to do. He wished he could join Niamh’s hand with Rey’s under the table, that would be funny.
‘Sorry,’ he said. ‘I’m just excited to be here with everyone and I want to help.’
‘Well, start by eating your bloody food,’ said Olive.
He took a big forkful, jutting his right elbow out comedically, as if portraying someone greedily tucking in – actually using it to give Niamh a bit of a shove. Then he shifted in his seat to try and get away from her, but it was no use, she just moved her whole chair over to be closer to him.
‘Beausie,’ she said, looking up at him through unfocussed eyes. She really was pissed. How had she got like this? They’d only had two drinks.
He glanced at Tamar just as she looked down and saw Niamh’s hand moving higher up his leg. He tried to catch Tamar’s eye to send an alarm message, but she just turned back to her plate. Bloody hell. She probably thought he was encouraging Niamh.
‘Rey,’ said Agata. She was speaking quietly, but Beau was able to hear her by putting his head on one side and pretending to be tucking in to his food. This dinner party was like being at the theatre for him, listening to other people’s conversations rather than having his own.
‘Yes, darling Ags,’ Rey said.
‘Tamar’s drunk friend is driving Beau mad. I have been watching. He is not enjoying her attentions, she is like an octopus. Can you tell Tamar.’
‘You’re sure he’s not enjoying it? I had noticed stuff going on, but I just assumed he’d be up for it. He doesn’t have much form for rejecting the advances of beautiful young ladies.’
‘But have you not seen how often he gets up from the table?’
‘Ah...’ said Rey. ‘I see what you mean. I thought he was just showing off. Leave it with me.’
Beau then saw him whisper something to Tamar, who looked surprised then immediately turned to look at Beau.
‘Hey, Bobo,’ she said, in a louder voice than she would normally use. ‘Fancy waitering skills you’ve got there.’
‘Years of experience,’ he said and was thinking what to say next, when Niamh grabbed hold of his arm and started shaking it.
‘Hey,’ she was saying. ‘Don’t be boring. Talk to me...’
Beau looked back at Tamar and flicked his eyes towards Niamh, then crossing them, to signal distress. Tamar nodded and held up one finger for moment to let him know: I’m on it.
Then she got up and left the kitchen. After a few moments, Beau followed her, going out to the hall and tapping on the door of the downstairs loo.
‘It’s open,’ she whispered, and Beau went in. ‘Lock the door.’
‘I hope they’re not going to think we’re doing drugs in here.’
They looked at each other for a moment and then they both started laughing. Uncontrollable giggles.
‘This is so crazy,’ said Beau. ‘I love Niamh, she’s great – normally – but tonight she’s so weird. She’s all over me.’
‘I don’t know what’s got into her. I’ve never seen her like this before.’
Beau looked at his feet. He had to confess. ‘This is embarrassing, but I’ve got to tell you something.’
‘What?’
‘Me and Niamh... We had a thing, a one-night stand, ages ago. I’d forgotten about it, but then at the beach hut in the summer...’ He scratched the side of his neck. ‘I saw she was wearing my ring. And then I remembered.’
Tamar smiled and poked him playfully in the ribs. ‘I know. You left that ring on her pillow. She told me. Said she wasn’t supposed to tell me, but she did. That’s what girls do, sorry.’
‘You’ve known all this time?’
‘Yes,’ said Tamar, shrugging.
‘And you don’t hate me for it?’
‘Why would I? Why shouldn’t a handsome dude and a beautiful woman get it on? Big city nights. It’s normal.’ She put her hand on his arm. ‘And I know about the posters too, Beau. I know the famous Ring Guy was you.’
His eyebrows shot up. ‘You didn’t judge me for that?’
She shook her head. ‘No. Obviously that woman – and some others – didn’t like the ring thing, but I remember when it happened to Niamh, long before I knew you. She loved it.’
‘It was at least three years ago, with Niamh, and I’m not that person anymore. I’ve been a total monk ever since that business with the bloody posters.’
‘It’s fine,’ she said, touching his arm gently. ‘You’ve been through a lot this past year, Beau. Stop beating yourself up.’
‘Thank you,’ he said. ‘But I think the problem is because of that historic event, she just assumes I’ll be up for it again tonight – and I’m really not.’
‘But it’s more than that, isn’t it?’ said Tamar, frowning. ‘She seems generally out of it. Something’s not right.’
‘Is she on drugs?’
‘I really don’t think so,’ said Tamar. ‘Not her thing. Let’s go back in... I’ll sit back down next to her, try and suss out what’s going on. You go and hang around in the kitchen again, so she won’t be distracted by you.’
From his post by the sink helping Olive, Beau could see Niamh could hardly keep her eyes open. Her head was starting to roll on her neck.
‘Where’s Beau?’ she said, then collapsed onto Tamar.
He abandoned the dishes and rushed over to help. Everyone was suddenly paying attention.
‘She’s been looking crook for a while,’ said Olive. ‘Is she on something?’
‘I’ve never seen her like this before,’ said Tamar. ‘I think something’s wrong.’
‘She’s unconscious,’ said Sophie, arriving at Niamh’s side. ‘Do we need to call an ambulance?’
Rey came over and raised each of Niamh’s eyelids in turn and touched the skin on her cheeks. ‘I don’t think so. Her pupils are normal, she’s not clammy. I’ve had quite a lot of experience of this kind of thing over the years, with my stupid friends.’ He rolled his eyes. ‘She just needs to sleep.’
Sophie turned to Beau. ‘I think you better take her back to the house. Here are the keys. Just leave them under the plant pot for me.’
Charlie was already at Niamh’s side, helping Beau lift her up.
‘Just make sure she’s on her side, when you get her settled there, in case she’s sick,’ Rey called out to them as they carried Niamh out, Tamar following close behind.
‘She’ll be fine,’ he said to Sophie, sitting back down again. ‘Looks to me like she was overexcited to be around Beau – not the first time I’ve seen that in action – then too much booze on an empty stomach. There’s nothing of her to soak it up.’
‘She certainly didn’t eat anything here,’ said Olive. ‘I did notice.’
‘Even less than me,’ said Agata and they laughed.
‘Well, I haven’t got an empty stomach,’ said Olive. ‘Who wants a flaming sambuca?’