We as authors always like to see two little words in every review, page turner.
Alas, sometimes they’re not, but usually this applied to non fiction simple because they’re reference books. Then another two words apply: boat anchor.
The good stuff is usually over the page.
Page in this instance refers to a leaf in a book, which generally has many pages.
Then the is a page boy, not what you’d find lurking around these days but were more common in days past, but refers to a boy in training to become a knight, or an errand boy for a nobleman.
These days a page boy opens doors and runs messages in a hotel.
Another variation is being paged over the P.A. system, always a major cause of embarrassment because you and everyone else thinks your in trouble.
Of course, before there were mobile phones, there were pagers, and sometimes in the deathly silence of the classroom, it went off. Definitely not advisable to have one on you if you are trying to sneak up on someone. Same goes for the modern equivalent, the mobile phone.
For the person who uses a word processor, you are familiar with pages, and having the software generate page numbers, of course, not for the title page, and a different numbering for other pages like an index, before the story starts.
Complicated? Sometimes.
And many years ago a boss of mine often used to say I needed to turn over a new page, and it did make much sense to me. That might have been because I was young and stupid. But, later on I realised what he was really saying was that I needed to turn over a new leaf.
Kind of strange, but then a lot saying are.
And did I?
Eventually.
And just to end on a high note, Paige is also the name of a girl, I think, and one I’ve decided to use in a story.
Is love the metaphorical equivalent to ‘walking the plank’; a dive into uncharted waters?
For Henry the only romance he was interested in was a life at sea, and when away from it, he strived to find sanctuary from his family and perhaps life itself. It takes him to a small village by the sea, a place he never expected to find another just like him, Michelle, whom he soon discovers is as mysterious as she is beautiful.
Henry had long since given up the notion of finding romance, and Michelle couldn’t get involved for reasons she could never explain, but in the end both acknowledge that something happened the moment they first met.
Plans were made, plans were revised, and hopes were shattered.
A chance encounter causes Michelle’s past to catch up with her, and whatever hope she had of having a normal life with Henry, or anyone else, is gone. To keep him alive she has to destroy her blossoming relationship, an act that breaks her heart and shatters his.
But can love conquer all?
It takes a few words of encouragement from an unlikely source to send Henry and his friend Radly on an odyssey into the darkest corners of the red-light district in a race against time to find and rescue the woman he finally realizes is the love of his life.
“Love is simply a tenuous attachment looking for a reason to break.”
As a twice-widowed, twice-divorced cynic of marriage, I could have expected no less from my mother.
I’d just explained the latest reason for Marigold’s non-appearance at lunch, without having to tell her the truth, that Marigold hated my mother.
At times, so did I. This was one of them.
I also hated the fact that we had become rich from my mother’s plotting and scheming, what she called strategic marriages and fortuitous deaths.
It left me a target, or so my mother said, and her opinion of Marigold was so low she had said from the outset that she had married me for my money. Hardly, because of a watertight prenuptial she had to sign, one that only a woman who loved the man, not the money would sign.
For that reason, I believed I was the luckiest person alive.
“Let’s face it, you don’t like her.”
“She’s a schemer Rodney, mark my words. She’s up to something, I can feel it.”
I shook my head. “Not accepting your lunch invitation doesn’t mean she’s up to anything. She had a prior engagement, and you always ask at the last minute.”
“My plans are nebulous. I could be anywhere, anytime. Right now, I’m here.”
I shrugged. It was not an argument I was going to win.
I went back to my office after lunch, dejected.
Perhaps there might be something in what she said because Marigold had become a little distant over the past few weeks and oddly secretive about her movements. I thought she was planning a surprise party or weekend away.
Candice, the PA who’d been with me ever since I’d made junior management ranks, followed me into the office.
“I can tell you lunch went swimmingly.” Sarcasm wasn’t her strongest asset, and it dripped off every word.
She hated my mother, too, particularly in the way it affected me.
“She should have been living it up in the south of France with the rest of the meddlers.”
I could just see Marigold in my peripheral vision, and when I looked up, I could see her almost stomping her way towards my office.
Others were familiar with her visits and used to her moods. I wondered what had happened.
Candice left as she came in. She stopped in front of my desk and literally threw her cell phone at me. I caught it just before it caused an injury.
“What the hell is that?” I could see now she was extremely agitated.
“What?”
“On the phone, it was attached to an anonymous message sent to me.”
I swiped the screen, once again lamenting her lack of implementing security on her phone, and a still from a video was sitting on the screen. I pressed the play icon and watched. Three minutes of what appeared to be me with another woman, in bed, in a hotel room. It certainly looked like me. It had a date and time stamp, 9:53, three days ago, when I was in Salt Lake City.
“It’s not me, Marigold.”
“Sure as hell looks like you, Rodney. You care to explain where you were and who you were with, if not with that woman?” It was accompanied by a belligerent look, daring me to have a cast iron alibi.
The thing is, I did. But it was not one I could explain to her. But what was more concerning was the fact there was a video and quite obviously a fake, and that it had found its way to her.
“I’ll go one better, Marigold. I’ll give the phone to the IT tech department, and they’ll tell me who sent the anonymous message and verify whether or not it’s me. You do want me to prove it’s not me, don’t you?”
Judging by the expression on her face, she did not, and it took a few seconds to realize why. My mother’s iron clad prenuptial had only one failing, and it was null and void if I was caught cheating. My mother had told me enough times.
“Of course.” Less bluster now. “I’ll leave it with you.”
Candice watched her leave before coming back into my office.
“What did you do?”
“More like what didn’t I do but apparently did.” She sat down, and I handed her the phone. “Have a look at the video. It’s quite interesting.”
She did, and I watched her fascination turn from surprise to wide-eyed amazement. Then she gave me a look that may have been misplaced in awe. “If that’s you, then you’re leading a secret life.”
“Did you see the date and time stamp?”
“Yes. It’s definitely not you. But it begs the question, do you have a brother or twin you know nothing about.”
“Would you like to ask my mother that question?” Her change of expression told me she didn’t. “That leaves the tech guys down in IT.”
“Oh, lucky you mentioned IT. I got a report this morning about the unauthorised use of the mainframe computer.”
“We know what those guys get up to, using it to run simulations, within acceptable limits. They know that if they break the rules, it’s their loss.”
“This is different. It was only reported because, apparently, while you were practising your sexual skills, you were also down in the computer room. Your pass card was used, albeit an older one that you reported as lost about a month ago. It was supposed to have been deactivated, and it wasn’t.”
“Then I guess I’d better go down to security and find out what it all means.”
Going down in the elevator, I had a few moments to ponder on how quickly my mind had set on the idea Marigold was hatching a scheme that would bypass the prenuptial agreement. Perhaps the continual verbal battering that I could not trust her.
Of course, it didn’t help that she turned up with a so-called anonymous video file of me cheating, just the evidence she needed. Perhaps I would more readily accepted her innocence had she not subtly changed in the last month or so. I put it down to the conversation about children, the fact my mother wanted to become a grandmother, and Marigold’s reluctance to be a mother, a sentiment fuelled by a very bad experience with her own mother. My mother wasn’t exactly a role model either.
And if it was a scheme, why would she readily hand over her phone with the evidence? Perhaps I needed to have an open mind. That meant definitely not telling my mother, though she seemed to have spies everywhere. If I had been even thinking of cheating, she would have sent Boris, her fixer, to stop it before it started.
IT was one of three departments under my jurisdiction, and the current manager was one of my recruits. I’d read about Gabrielle some months before when she was arrested for hacking several government computer systems to prove their vulnerability to foreign hackers and instead of being applauded had been vilified, and sent to computer Coventry. No one would hire her. I tracked her down, spent a few days talking about computers, hackers, and stupid people, and then hired her.
A computer genius of this calibre was impossible to find, and if I did manage to find one, it would cost far more than we could pay them.
“Rod, what brings you to the dungeon.” Gabrielle was always pleased to see me. I had wondered a few times if something else might have developed between us, but I was a married man and it never crossed my mind. There was also a chance her open and friendly manner could be misinterpreted.
“It seems I’m in trouble.” I held up the phone. ” This has images of me, only I know it’s not me because I was somewhere else.” I passed it to her. “I believe this is the first time I’ve seen a deep fake video.”
She looked at the video, with similar facial expressions to Candice. “It can’t be you.” She’d also seen the time and date stamp. “We both know where you were. Let me check it out, and I’ll get back to you.”
When I arrived back in my office, Eric Dorning, the head of security, was waiting for me. Candice simply nodded her head in his direction and shrugged, telling me Eric had not told her why he was there.
“Close the door, Rod. It’s a delicate matter.”
And Seriously, he wanted the door shut? I closed it and sat behind the desk. “What can I do for you?”
“A key card that was believed missing was apparently used to gain access to the computer department. Two issues, one that was not deactivated, and the other, that it was yours, and had an all-access clearance attached to it. That it was lost is, at the very least,8 a suspension, while aspects of how and where it was lost are undertaken. At worst, it could cause dismissal depending on the damage caused to the company. As you are…”
I put my hand up to stop him right there. The fact that my mother was a substantial shareholder and was in some small part responsible for my position in the company, I never asked for special treatment. “I know what you are going to say, and don’t. I am no different from any other employee, and if the course of action on your part is to suspend me while you investigate, then do so.”
“We don’t have to do that.”
“You do. This can’t be kept under wraps, and everyone needs to know that no one in this company should expect or be given special treatment. A short truthful statement about why I’m missing will suffice.”
“Your mother will not approve.”
“It’s not her call. Am I being suspended?”
“Yes.”
“Then you should escort me to the front door and remove my key card and phone.” I put the card and the phone and company car keys on the desk, and stood. I could see Candice observing, and she knew what it meant. She made a face, then headed for the elevator. I deduced that it meant she wanted to see me at the cafe up the street.
It was clear Eric did not want to suspend me because when I was unavailable, he had to report to my immediate superior, Victor Wellman, a man who was bitterly opposed to my appointment. With this crisis, he would have all the ammunition he needed to get rid of me. Eric had said as much on the way down. He said he would call when the investigation was complete.
Candice had two cups of coffee waiting and a puzzled expression. “What did you do wrong?”
“Losing a card key without adequately securing it at all times is a cardinal sin, and in certain circumstances, a stackable offence. I’m guilty as charged.”
“What about the fact that after reporting it missing, they didn’t deactivate it? If there’s blame, Eric is the one who should take responsibility for the current incident.”
“I hardly think any of that matters. Wellman will use this to have me removed. And he’s well within his right to do so.”
“You think he’s brave enough to take on your mother?”
“He’s the only one who is, but it may have unintended consequences. But I’m not going to fight it. I’ve had enough of politics and everything else. I asked for no special treatment.”
“What are you going to do?”
“Take a few days off, see what’s bugging Marigold. I have been missing lately, so perhaps we can catch up.” If she was home. To be honest, I had no idea what she did with herself lately.
I had expected to come home to an empty house.
After leaving Candice to contemplate her future, I took the subway, something I hadn’t done in a long time. Then, it was a reasonable walk to our apartment. I spoke the James, the only building concierge I knew, who was on a rare day shift. It was odd to see the foyer in daylight on a weekday.
Then I went up to the apartment and let myself in. I had expected to be alone, but after I shut the door, I heard subdued voices, followed by laughter. Marigold. And she was not alone.
I followed the sounds up the corridor to the end, our bedroom. I put my head in the door and saw her naked, sitting on a man I didn’t recognise. It was not hard to see what they were doing.
“Revenge sex, Marigold. I can’t say I’m surprised.”
She squealed in surprise, or was it shock?
“When you’re done, pack your bags and leave. You better not be here when I come back. Goodbye, Marigold.”
I left, knowing she would not be able to catch me or follow me. Whether she left or not didn’t matter. I was never going back to that apartment again.
…
It took a week to unravel the conspiracy and see the reality.
The man with Marigold was one of Mellman’s recruits in a plan to get rid of me. He had also recruited Marigold, who had tired of me because I was never home, and it was she who had taken the card key.
Her ‘boyfriend’ was a graphics expert and had been the one to transplant my body and that of a random woman over a recording of him having sex with Marigold. It took Gabrielle a week to work out how he did it and was more appreciative of his talent than she should be.
He had used the card key to get in and was the one responsible for the unauthorised use of the mainframe. He has also erased all the CCTV footage for the time of the transgression.
Wellman was silly enough to send the video to Marigold, thinking it would be untraceable and anonymous. It may have seemed so to a novice like him, but it was easily unmasked by an expert like Gabrielle.
I never did understand why Mellman wanted to destroy my life because it couldn’t just be because my mother had used her influence to get me that job. Not for a few months, anyway, when Eric had told Gabrielle that he had discovered that there had been another candidate for that role, a relative of Mellman’s. Still, to me, it seemed over the top.
I could understand Marigold. Perhaps if she had told me she didn’t want to be married to me anymore, I would have been disappointed, but I would have been sure she got a decent settlement, rather than what she ended up with.
But, in the end, I did get to do something I’d always wanted to do, and that was to try my hand at being a private detective. Gabrielle had brought it up in one of our late-night conversations, the fact we were well suited to handling cases where people were wronged by deep fake videos and anonymously released revenge tapes.
We were both surprised but the number of people who called, texted, or emailed in the week after I posted an advertisement.
Every time I close my eyes, I see something different.
I’d like to think the cinema of my dreams is playing a double feature but it’s a bit like a comedy cartoon night on Fox.
But these dreams are nothing to laugh about.
Once again there’s a new installment of an old feature, and we’re back on the treasure hunt.
A shiver went down my spine, and I took it for the omen it was.
Nothing good came of being in a place where you were not supposed to be.
I shook it off.
“Does that look like someone we knew, once?”
He looked at the mannequin, then shook his head. “No, should it?”
“Seems odd they didn’t come back to collect their stock. I’m sure it wasn’t as bad as this when the cracks first appeared.”
“Here it was. Walls crumbled, and in places the roof collapsed. Two shop staff got hit by a falling beam. One later died. There was a long court battle over that.”
I did not remember much of what happened. My mother said it was just another tragedy brought on by greed. It was probably why I had such contempt for the rich.
Boggs did a rotation with his light, and in the direction of the marina, there was a central square over which was a skylight, only it was dirty and little light was getting through. It was just enough to see that the plants had all overgrown and taken over, and it was strange to see pylons covered in creeper, and shrubs growing through seats.
There had been a pond in the middle of that square, but it was probably empty now, and if it had water, it would be contributing to the smell.
In the other direction, there was darkness, the mall heading towards the front entrance.
Boggs started walking towards the square.
That was when I realized he had brought an old map of the shopping center and had been looking at it when I joined him.
From the square, there were elevators and steps up to the second level where there were restaurants and entertainment areas, as well as the entrance to the multiplex cinemas. The stairs went down to the carpark.
There were two levels of carpark under the main building, and it was the lower car park that had occasionally flooded.
When we reached the square, it seemed lighter than I first thought, but that had to do with the fact my eyes had adjusted to the semi-darkness, making objects clearer. We had to brush past some of the tree branches to reach the pond.
I was wrong. There was water in it, and it was reasonably clear. I guess without man to pollute it, nature had taken over. Here the aroma was more like a park after the lawns had been mowed.
Boggs had turned off his light as we approached the pond, and it was fortunate he had. We both heard the sound of a brick, or rock hitting the floor, and a moment later, the faint glow of torchlight.
Other people exploring the wilderness.
“How many people know about that entrance?”
It sounded to me like they were coming back from the marina.
“I don’t know. I wasn’t expecting anyone to be here if that’s what you’re thinking.”
It wasn’t. Not my first thought, anyway.
He headed towards the stairs next to the elevator lobby, remarkably clear of rubble and undergrowth, and started walking down the stairs, into the darkness. I followed, reluctantly, and inwardly sighed in relief when he stopped on the first landing. There was a rumor there were ghosts down on the car park levels.
We went just far enough down to be hidden from the other visitors. Unless they decided to use this particular staircase.
The light was less intense as it approached the square, and then we saw two figures.
At least one was a male, tall, and smoking a cigarette.
“God knows why the boss wanted us to check this hell hole. There’s no one here but us.” It was the tall man speaking.
He waved his torch around, including once in our direction. At the distance they were from us, the light had no effect.
“You know the boss, he has an active imagination. Perhaps if he hadn’t buried the bodies down here, it wouldn’t be an issue. Come on, this place gives me the creeps.”
Another man, and, now, I could see they were dressed in what looked like security guards’ clothes. Why on earth would anyone want to keep an eye on this place? And who was their boss?
Another wave of the torches and they continued their way towards the front of the mall.
“So,” Boggs said with a curious inflection in his tone, “there are bodies buried down here.”
“A figure of speech,” I said. “No one would be that stupid to bury bodies down here.”
“Why not. No one comes here, except adventurers like us, so it’s a perfect place for either the Cossatino’s or the Benderby’s to hide stuff down here. How many people do you think either of them has killed over the years?”
Allegedly quite a few. It was, when I thought about it, quite a good place to hide a body. I just hoped we didn’t find one.
We waited another five minutes, just in case they came back, but they didn.t. I followed Boggs up the stairs and we headed towards the center of the square.
A single event driven by fate, after Ben told his wife Charlotte he would be late home one night, he left early, and by chance discovers his wife having dinner in their favourite restaurant with another man.
A single event where it could be said Ben was in the wrong place at the wrong time.
Who was this man? Why was she having dinner with him?
A simple truth to explain the single event was all Ben required. Instead, Charlotte told him a lie.
A single event that forces Ben to question everything he thought he knew about his wife, and the people who are around her.
After a near-death experience and forced retirement into a world he is unfamiliar with, Ben finds himself once again drawn back into that life of lies, violence, and intrigue.
From London to a small village in Tuscany, little by little Ben discovers who the woman he married is, and the real reason why fate had brought them together.
“Love is simply a tenuous attachment looking for a reason to break.”
As a twice-widowed, twice-divorced cynic of marriage, I could have expected no less from my mother.
I’d just explained the latest reason for Marigold’s non-appearance at lunch, without having to tell her the truth, that Marigold hated my mother.
At times, so did I. This was one of them.
I also hated the fact that we had become rich from my mother’s plotting and scheming, what she called strategic marriages and fortuitous deaths.
It left me a target, or so my mother said, and her opinion of Marigold was so low she had said from the outset that she had married me for my money. Hardly, because of a watertight prenuptial she had to sign, one that only a woman who loved the man, not the money would sign.
For that reason, I believed I was the luckiest person alive.
“Let’s face it, you don’t like her.”
“She’s a schemer Rodney, mark my words. She’s up to something, I can feel it.”
I shook my head. “Not accepting your lunch invitation doesn’t mean she’s up to anything. She had a prior engagement, and you always ask at the last minute.”
“My plans are nebulous. I could be anywhere, anytime. Right now, I’m here.”
I shrugged. It was not an argument I was going to win.
I went back to my office after lunch, dejected.
Perhaps there might be something in what she said because Marigold had become a little distant over the past few weeks and oddly secretive about her movements. I thought she was planning a surprise party or weekend away.
Candice, the PA who’d been with me ever since I’d made junior management ranks, followed me into the office.
“I can tell you lunch went swimmingly.” Sarcasm wasn’t her strongest asset, and it dripped off every word.
She hated my mother, too, particularly in the way it affected me.
“She should have been living it up in the south of France with the rest of the meddlers.”
I could just see Marigold in my peripheral vision, and when I looked up, I could see her almost stomping her way towards my office.
Others were familiar with her visits and used to her moods. I wondered what had happened.
Candice left as she came in. She stopped in front of my desk and literally threw her cell phone at me. I caught it just before it caused an injury.
“What the hell is that?” I could see now she was extremely agitated.
“What?”
“On the phone, it was attached to an anonymous message sent to me.”
I swiped the screen, once again lamenting her lack of implementing security on her phone, and a still from a video was sitting on the screen. I pressed the play icon and watched. Three minutes of what appeared to be me with another woman, in bed, in a hotel room. It certainly looked like me. It had a date and time stamp, 9:53, three days ago, when I was in Salt Lake City.
“It’s not me, Marigold.”
“Sure as hell looks like you, Rodney. You care to explain where you were and who you were with, if not with that woman?” It was accompanied by a belligerent look, daring me to have a cast iron alibi.
The thing is, I did. But it was not one I could explain to her. But what was more concerning was the fact there was a video and quite obviously a fake, and that it had found its way to her.
“I’ll go one better, Marigold. I’ll give the phone to the IT tech department, and they’ll tell me who sent the anonymous message and verify whether or not it’s me. You do want me to prove it’s not me, don’t you?”
Judging by the expression on her face, she did not, and it took a few seconds to realize why. My mother’s iron clad prenuptial had only one failing, and it was null and void if I was caught cheating. My mother had told me enough times.
“Of course.” Less bluster now. “I’ll leave it with you.”
Candice watched her leave before coming back into my office.
“What did you do?”
“More like what didn’t I do but apparently did.” She sat down, and I handed her the phone. “Have a look at the video. It’s quite interesting.”
She did, and I watched her fascination turn from surprise to wide-eyed amazement. Then she gave me a look that may have been misplaced in awe. “If that’s you, then you’re leading a secret life.”
“Did you see the date and time stamp?”
“Yes. It’s definitely not you. But it begs the question, do you have a brother or twin you know nothing about.”
“Would you like to ask my mother that question?” Her change of expression told me she didn’t. “That leaves the tech guys down in IT.”
“Oh, lucky you mentioned IT. I got a report this morning about the unauthorised use of the mainframe computer.”
“We know what those guys get up to, using it to run simulations, within acceptable limits. They know that if they break the rules, it’s their loss.”
“This is different. It was only reported because, apparently, while you were practising your sexual skills, you were also down in the computer room. Your pass card was used, albeit an older one that you reported as lost about a month ago. It was supposed to have been deactivated, and it wasn’t.”
“Then I guess I’d better go down to security and find out what it all means.”
Going down in the elevator, I had a few moments to ponder on how quickly my mind had set on the idea Marigold was hatching a scheme that would bypass the prenuptial agreement. Perhaps the continual verbal battering that I could not trust her.
Of course, it didn’t help that she turned up with a so-called anonymous video file of me cheating, just the evidence she needed. Perhaps I would more readily accepted her innocence had she not subtly changed in the last month or so. I put it down to the conversation about children, the fact my mother wanted to become a grandmother, and Marigold’s reluctance to be a mother, a sentiment fuelled by a very bad experience with her own mother. My mother wasn’t exactly a role model either.
And if it was a scheme, why would she readily hand over her phone with the evidence? Perhaps I needed to have an open mind. That meant definitely not telling my mother, though she seemed to have spies everywhere. If I had been even thinking of cheating, she would have sent Boris, her fixer, to stop it before it started.
IT was one of three departments under my jurisdiction, and the current manager was one of my recruits. I’d read about Gabrielle some months before when she was arrested for hacking several government computer systems to prove their vulnerability to foreign hackers and instead of being applauded had been vilified, and sent to computer Coventry. No one would hire her. I tracked her down, spent a few days talking about computers, hackers, and stupid people, and then hired her.
A computer genius of this calibre was impossible to find, and if I did manage to find one, it would cost far more than we could pay them.
“Rod, what brings you to the dungeon.” Gabrielle was always pleased to see me. I had wondered a few times if something else might have developed between us, but I was a married man and it never crossed my mind. There was also a chance her open and friendly manner could be misinterpreted.
“It seems I’m in trouble.” I held up the phone. ” This has images of me, only I know it’s not me because I was somewhere else.” I passed it to her. “I believe this is the first time I’ve seen a deep fake video.”
She looked at the video, with similar facial expressions to Candice. “It can’t be you.” She’d also seen the time and date stamp. “We both know where you were. Let me check it out, and I’ll get back to you.”
When I arrived back in my office, Eric Dorning, the head of security, was waiting for me. Candice simply nodded her head in his direction and shrugged, telling me Eric had not told her why he was there.
“Close the door, Rod. It’s a delicate matter.”
And Seriously, he wanted the door shut? I closed it and sat behind the desk. “What can I do for you?”
“A key card that was believed missing was apparently used to gain access to the computer department. Two issues, one that was not deactivated, and the other, that it was yours, and had an all-access clearance attached to it. That it was lost is, at the very least,8 a suspension, while aspects of how and where it was lost are undertaken. At worst, it could cause dismissal depending on the damage caused to the company. As you are…”
I put my hand up to stop him right there. The fact that my mother was a substantial shareholder and was in some small part responsible for my position in the company, I never asked for special treatment. “I know what you are going to say, and don’t. I am no different from any other employee, and if the course of action on your part is to suspend me while you investigate, then do so.”
“We don’t have to do that.”
“You do. This can’t be kept under wraps, and everyone needs to know that no one in this company should expect or be given special treatment. A short truthful statement about why I’m missing will suffice.”
“Your mother will not approve.”
“It’s not her call. Am I being suspended?”
“Yes.”
“Then you should escort me to the front door and remove my key card and phone.” I put the card and the phone and company car keys on the desk, and stood. I could see Candice observing, and she knew what it meant. She made a face, then headed for the elevator. I deduced that it meant she wanted to see me at the cafe up the street.
It was clear Eric did not want to suspend me because when I was unavailable, he had to report to my immediate superior, Victor Wellman, a man who was bitterly opposed to my appointment. With this crisis, he would have all the ammunition he needed to get rid of me. Eric had said as much on the way down. He said he would call when the investigation was complete.
Candice had two cups of coffee waiting and a puzzled expression. “What did you do wrong?”
“Losing a card key without adequately securing it at all times is a cardinal sin, and in certain circumstances, a stackable offence. I’m guilty as charged.”
“What about the fact that after reporting it missing, they didn’t deactivate it? If there’s blame, Eric is the one who should take responsibility for the current incident.”
“I hardly think any of that matters. Wellman will use this to have me removed. And he’s well within his right to do so.”
“You think he’s brave enough to take on your mother?”
“He’s the only one who is, but it may have unintended consequences. But I’m not going to fight it. I’ve had enough of politics and everything else. I asked for no special treatment.”
“What are you going to do?”
“Take a few days off, see what’s bugging Marigold. I have been missing lately, so perhaps we can catch up.” If she was home. To be honest, I had no idea what she did with herself lately.
I had expected to come home to an empty house.
After leaving Candice to contemplate her future, I took the subway, something I hadn’t done in a long time. Then, it was a reasonable walk to our apartment. I spoke the James, the only building concierge I knew, who was on a rare day shift. It was odd to see the foyer in daylight on a weekday.
Then I went up to the apartment and let myself in. I had expected to be alone, but after I shut the door, I heard subdued voices, followed by laughter. Marigold. And she was not alone.
I followed the sounds up the corridor to the end, our bedroom. I put my head in the door and saw her naked, sitting on a man I didn’t recognise. It was not hard to see what they were doing.
“Revenge sex, Marigold. I can’t say I’m surprised.”
She squealed in surprise, or was it shock?
“When you’re done, pack your bags and leave. You better not be here when I come back. Goodbye, Marigold.”
I left, knowing she would not be able to catch me or follow me. Whether she left or not didn’t matter. I was never going back to that apartment again.
…
It took a week to unravel the conspiracy and see the reality.
The man with Marigold was one of Mellman’s recruits in a plan to get rid of me. He had also recruited Marigold, who had tired of me because I was never home, and it was she who had taken the card key.
Her ‘boyfriend’ was a graphics expert and had been the one to transplant my body and that of a random woman over a recording of him having sex with Marigold. It took Gabrielle a week to work out how he did it and was more appreciative of his talent than she should be.
He had used the card key to get in and was the one responsible for the unauthorised use of the mainframe. He has also erased all the CCTV footage for the time of the transgression.
Wellman was silly enough to send the video to Marigold, thinking it would be untraceable and anonymous. It may have seemed so to a novice like him, but it was easily unmasked by an expert like Gabrielle.
I never did understand why Mellman wanted to destroy my life because it couldn’t just be because my mother had used her influence to get me that job. Not for a few months, anyway, when Eric had told Gabrielle that he had discovered that there had been another candidate for that role, a relative of Mellman’s. Still, to me, it seemed over the top.
I could understand Marigold. Perhaps if she had told me she didn’t want to be married to me anymore, I would have been disappointed, but I would have been sure she got a decent settlement, rather than what she ended up with.
But, in the end, I did get to do something I’d always wanted to do, and that was to try my hand at being a private detective. Gabrielle had brought it up in one of our late-night conversations, the fact we were well suited to handling cases where people were wronged by deep fake videos and anonymously released revenge tapes.
We were both surprised but the number of people who called, texted, or emailed in the week after I posted an advertisement.
Williams’ Restaurant, East 65th Street, New York, Saturday, 8:00 p.m.
We met the Blaine’s at Williams’, a rather upmarket restaurant that the Blaine’s frequently visited, and had recommended.
Of course, during the taxi ride there, Alison reminded me that with my new job, we would be able to go to many more places like Williams’. It was, at worst, more emotional blackmail, because as far as Alison was concerned, we were well on our way to posh restaurants, the Trump Tower Apartments, and the trappings of the ‘executive set’.
It would be a miracle if I didn’t strangle Elaine before the night was over. It was she who had filled Alison’s head with all this stuff and nonsense.
Aside from the half frown half-smile, Alison was looking stunning. It was months since she had last dressed up, and she was especially wearing the dress I’d bought her for our 5th anniversary that cost a month’s salary. On her, it was worth it, and I would have paid more if I had to. She had adored it, and me, for a week or so after.
For tonight, I think I was close to getting back on that pedestal.
She had the looks and figure to draw attention, the sort movie stars got on the red carpet, and when we walked into the restaurant, I swear there were at least five seconds silence, and many more gasps.
Even I had a sudden loss of breath earlier in the evening when she came out of the dressing room. Once more I was reminded of how lucky I was that she had agreed to marry me. Amid all those self-doubts, I couldn’t believe she had loved me when there were so many others ‘out there’ who were more appealing.
Elaine was out of her seat and came over just as the Head Waiter hovered into sight. She personally escorted Alison to the table, allowing me to follow like the Queen’s consort, while she and Alison basked in the admiring glances of the other patrons.
More than once I heard the muted question, “Who is she?”
Jimmy stood, we shook hands, and then we sat together. It was not the usual boy, girl, boy, girl seating arrangement. Jimmy and I on one side and Elaine and Alison on the other.
The battle lines were drawn.
Jimmy was looking fashionable, with the permanent blade one beard, unkempt hair, and designer dinner suit that looked like he’d slept in it. Alison insisted I wear a tuxedo, and I looked like the proverbial penguin or just a thinner version of Alfred Hitchcock.
The bow tie had been slightly crooked, but just before we stepped out she had straightened it. And took the moment to look deeply into my soul. It was one of those moments when words were not necessary.
Then it was gone.
I relived it briefly as I sat and she looked at me. A penetrating look that told me to ‘behave’.
When we were settled, Elaine said, in that breathless, enthusiastic manner of hers when she was excited, “So, Harry, you are finally moving up.” It was not a question, but a statement.
I was not sure what she meant by ‘finally’ but I accepted it with good grace. Sometimes Elaine was prone to using figures of speech I didn’t understand. I guessed she was talking about the new job. “It was supposed to be a secret.”
She smiled widely. “There are no secrets between Al and I, are there Al?”
I looked at ‘Al’ and saw a brief look of consternation.
I was not sure Alison liked the idea of being called Al. I tried it once and was admonished. But it was interesting her ‘best friend forever’ was allowed that distinction when I was not. It was, perhaps, another indicator of how far I’d slipped in her estimation.
Perhaps, I thought, it was a necessary evil. As I understood it, the Blaine’s were our mentors at the Trump Tower, because they didn’t just let ‘anyone’ in. I didn’t ask if the Blaine’s thought we were just ‘anyone’ before I got the job offer.
And then there was that look between Alison and Elaine, quickly stolen before Alison realized I was looking at both of them. I was out of my depth, in a place I didn’t belong, with people I didn’t understand. And yet, apparently, Alison did. I must have missed the memo.
“No,” Alison said softly, stealing a glance in my direction, “No secrets between friends.”
No secrets. Her look conveyed something else entirely.
The waiter brought champagne, Krug, and poured glasses for each of us. It was not the cheap stuff, and I was glad I brought a couple of thousand dollars with me. We were going to need it.
Then, a toast.
To a new job and a new life.
“When did you decide?” Elaine was effusive at the best of times, but with the champagne, it was worse.
Alison had a strange expression on her face. It was obvious she had told Elaine it was a done deal, even before I’d made up my mind. Perhaps she’d assumed I might be ‘refreshingly honest’ in front of Elaine, but it could also mean she didn’t really care what I might say or do.
Instead of consternation, she looked happy, and I realized it would be churlish, even silly if I made a scene. I knew what I wanted to say. I also knew that it would serve little purpose provoking Elaine, or upsetting Alison. This was not the time or the place. Alison had been looking forward to coming here, and I was not going to spoil it.
Instead, I said, smiling, “When I woke up this morning and found Alison missing. If she had been there, I would not have noticed the water stain on the roof above our bed, and decide there and then how much I hated the place.” I used my reassuring smile, the one I used with the customers when all hell was breaking loose, and the forest fire was out of control. “It’s the little things. They all add up until one day …” I shrugged. “I guess that one day was today.”
I saw an incredulous look pass between Elaine and Alison, a non-verbal question; perhaps, is he for real? Or; I told you he’d come around.
I had no idea the two were so close.
“How quaint,” Elaine said, which just about summed up her feelings towards me. I think, at that moment, I lost some brownie points. It was all I could come up with at short notice.
“Yes,” I added, with a little more emphasis than I wanted. “Alison was off to get some study in with one of her friends.”
“Weren’t the two of you off to the Hamptons, a weekend with some friends?” Jimmy piped up, and immediately got the ‘shut up you fool’ look, that cut that line of conversation dead. Someone forgot to feed Jimmy his lines.
It was followed by the condescending smile from Elaine, and “I need to powder my nose. Care to join me, Al?”
A frown, then a forced smile for her new best friend. “Yes.”
I watched them leave the table and head in the direction of the restroom, looking like they were in earnest conversation. I thought ‘Al’ looked annoyed, but I could be wrong.
I had to say Jimmy looked more surprised than I did.
There was that odd moment of silence between us, Jimmy still smarting from his death stare, and for me, the Alison and Elaine show. I was quite literally gob-smacked.
I drained my champagne glass gathering some courage and turned to him. “By the way, we were going to have a weekend away, but this legal tutorial thing came up. You know Alison is doing her law degree.”
He looked startled when he realized I had spoken. He was looking intently at a woman several tables over from us, one who’d obviously forgotten some basic garments when getting dressed. Or perhaps it was deliberate. She’d definitely had some enhancements done.
He dragged his eyes back to me. “Yes. Elaine said something or other about it. But I thought she said the tutor was out of town and it had been postponed until next week. Perhaps I got it wrong. I usually do.”
“Perhaps I’ve got it wrong.” I shrugged, as the dark thoughts started swirling in my head again. “This week or next, what does it matter?”
Of course, it mattered to me, and I digested what he said with a sinking heart. It showed there was another problem between Alison and me; it was possible she was now telling me lies. If what he said was true and I had no reason to doubt him, where was she going tomorrow morning, and had she really been with a friend studying today?
We poured some more champagne, had a drink, then he asked, “This promotion thing, what’s it worth?”
“Trouble, I suspect. Definitely more money, but less time at home.”
“Oh,” raised eyebrows. Obviously, the women had not talked about the job in front of him, or, at least, not all the details. “You sure you want to do that?”
At last the voice of reason. “Me? No.”
“Yet you accepted the job.”
I sucked in a breath or two while I considered whether I could trust him. Even if I couldn’t, I could see my ship was sinking, so it wouldn’t matter what I told him, or what Elaine might find out from him. “Jimmy, between you and me I haven’t as yet decided one way or another. To be honest, I won’t know until I go up to Barclay’s office and he asks me the question.”
“Barclay?”
“My boss.”
“Elaine’s doing a job for a Barclay that recently moved in the tower a block down from us. I thought I recognized the name.”
“How did Elaine get the job?”
“Oh, Alison put him onto her.”
“When?”
“A couple of months ago. Why?”
I shrugged and tried to keep a straight face, while my insides were churning up like the wake of a supertanker. I felt sick, faint, and wanting to die all at the same moment. “Perhaps she said something about it, but it didn’t connect at the time. Too busy with work I expect. I think I seriously need to get away for a while.”
I could hardly breathe, my throat was constricted and I knew I had to keep it together. I could see Elaine and Alison coming back, so I had to calm down. I sucked in some deep breaths, and put my ‘manage a complete and utter disaster’ look on my face.
And I had to change the subject, quickly, so I said, “Jimmy, Elaine told Alison, who told me, you were something of a guru of the cause and effects of the global economic meltdown. Now, I have a couple of friends who have been expounding this theory …”
Like flicking a switch, I launched into the well-worn practice of ‘running a distraction’, like at work when we needed to keep the customer from discovering the truth. It was one of the things I was good at, taking over a conversation and pushing it in a different direction. It was salvaging a good result from an utter disaster, and if ever there was a time that it was required, it was right here, right now.
When Alison sat down and looked at me, she knew something had happened between Jimmy and I. I might have looked pale or red-faced, or angry or disappointed, it didn’t matter. If that didn’t seal the deal for her, the fact I took over the dining engagement did. She knew well enough the only time I did that was when everything was about to go to hell in a handbasket. She’d seen me in action before and had been suitably astonished.
But I got into gear, kept the champagne flowing and steered the conversation, as much as one could from a seasoned professional like Elaine, and, I think, in Jimmy’s eyes, he saw the battle lines and knew who took the crown on points. Neither Elaine nor Jimmy suspected anything, and if the truth be told, I had improved my stocks with Elaine. She was at times both surprised and interested, even willing to take a back seat.
Alison, on the other hand, tried poking around the edges, and, once when Elaine and Jimmy had got up to have a cigarette outside, questioned me directly. I chose to ignore her, and pretend nothing had happened, instead of telling her how much I was enjoying the evening.
She had her ‘secrets’. I had mine.
At the end of the evening, when I got up to go to the bathroom, I was physically sick from the pent up tension and the implications of what Jimmy had told me. It took a while for me to pull myself together; so long, in fact, Jimmy came looking for me. I told him I’d drunk too much champagne, and he seemed satisfied with that excuse. When I returned, both Alison and Elaine noticed how pale I was but neither made any comment.
It was a sad way to end what was supposed to be a delightful evening, which to a large degree it was for the other three. But I had achieved what I set out to do, and that was to play them at their own game, watching the deception, once I knew there was a deception, as warily as a cat watches its prey.
I had also discovered Jimmy’s real calling; a professor of economics at the same University Alison was doing her law degree. It was no surprise in the end, on a night where surprises abounded, that the world could really be that small.
We parted in the early hours of the morning, a taxi whisking us back to the Lower East Side, another taking the Blaine’s back to the Upper West Side. But, in our case, as Alison reminded me, it would not be for much longer. She showed concern for my health, asked me what was wrong. It took all the courage I could muster to tell her it was most likely something I ate and the champagne, and that I would be fine in the morning.
She could see quite plainly it was anything other than what I told her, but she didn’t pursue it. Perhaps she just didn’t care what I was playing at.
And yet, after everything that had happened, once inside our ‘palace’, the events of the evening were discarded, like her clothing, and she again reminded me of what we had together in the early years before the problems had set in.
It left me confused and lost.
I couldn’t sleep because my mind had now gone down that irreversible path that told me I was losing her, that she had found someone else, and that our marriage was in its last death throes.
And now I knew it had something to do with Barclay.
I’m back home and this story has been sitting on the back burner for a few months, waiting for some more to be written.
The trouble is, there are also other stories to write, and I’m not very good at prioritizing.
But, here we are, a few minutes opened up and it didn’t take long to get back into the groove.
Chasing leads, maybe
…
A second later the light came on and I was temporarily blinded.
The woman had to be on the other side of the door, and coming into the room, I must have passed her. Her voice sounded quite old, so it must be the mother.
“Turn around, slowly.
I did. By that time my eyes had readjusted, and I could see a woman, still dressed, with what looked to be an Enfield WW1 rifle. Just as dangerous now as it was then, particularly at this close range.
“Mrs Quigley, I presume,” I asked. Remain polite and conversational and keep her from getting nervous.
“Who are you?”
“Sam Jackson.”
“Is that your real name?”
“Why would you presume to think it wasn’t?”
“You’re breaking into my house which means you’re a criminal, and criminals by nature are also liars. Why would I think you any different to the rest?”
Good question. “I knew your son.”
“Which one?”
“Adam.”
“He’s not here. He hasn’t been around since he gallivanted off overseas a few years back.”
“I saw him only a few days ago, in London. Not gallivanting, by the way, but with feet firmly planted on the ground.”
“He’s not here.”
“Do you know where he is?”
She didn’t know he was dead, and I didn’t think it was my business to tell her. That was Dobbin’s job, and I was surprised he hadn’t. Or, I only had her word for it he hadn’t.
“Are you hard of hearing.” Get into the middle of the room.”
I moved slowly into the middle, watching her edge slowly towards the writing desk while keeping the gun aimed at me. If I tried to run for it, and if she was any sort of shot, I’d be dead before I got three, possibly four paces. If I could get a shred of surprise.
I hadn’t seen the phone on the desk, and watched her pick up the receiver, and, with the same hand, started dialing a number.
“Put it down.” Another voice, another woman, coming from the doorway.
Jennifer.
With a gun in hand, pointed at the woman.
“What if I shoot him, or you?”
“You’ll be dead before either scenario happens. Just put it down. I’m not here to shoot anyone if I can help it.”
Of course, this was just like one of those scenes out of a comedic spy film. Guns pointing in all directions.
And, true to form, a click, and a voice. “You put your weapon down.”
He appeared out of the shadows and had the gun pointed straight at Jennifer’s head at very short range.
Adam Quigley, aka O’Connell, and very much alive.
Jennifer dropped her gun, but Adam didn’t take his gun off her.
I had never been to a ball and had only seen what one was like on TV.
When I first received the invitation, on a gold embossed card with old style and writing in ink, real ink, I was astonished. I was not from a class of people whom one would associate with such a high-society event.
My father, when I had shown him the invitation, said it had obviously been sent to me by mistake, that it was some other William Benjamin Oldacre, not me. When I showed him the envelope with my address on it, he then said someone was playing a game.
I was inclined to believe him, so I called the RSVP number and spoke to a lady by the name of Charlotte Bingham, who had a very posh voice.
I told her my name, and then told her there must be some mistake.
“We don’t make mistakes, Mr Oldacre.”
“To be honest, ma’am, I am not a man of means, if you take my meaning.” I wanted to say I was just one of the rabble, but it seemed a little too blunt.
“You don’t need to be, to be a respectable and respected young man. Miss Emily said that you would find some excuse, and her instructions were if you were to call, to insist you come, and if you were having difficulties to call her on the cell number she gave you. I’m marking you down as a yes, and I look forward to meeting you.” The line went dead before I could reply.
Miss Emily.
My first encounter with her was anything but cordial, in fact, I had called her lazy, indolent, egotistical, annoying, and overprivileged, all in one breath. She was the typical rich brat to who the rules didn’t apply, the person who didn’t have to wait in queues like everyone else and whose schedules were made for other people.
Sadly, all the boys rich or poor grovelled at her feet, so it was a shock to her when I told her exactly what I thought of her. From there, we ignored each other, as much as it was possible, until a week before when we just happened to be in the cafeteria at the same time. I had been running late and almost walked away.
I joined Xavier in the queue, just as I noticed her with three of her equally bratty friends and a few people ahead in the queue.
“You must be starving,” Xavier said, “your nemesis is just ahead, and being her usual obnoxious self.”
“Unfortunately, hunger trumps common-sense.”
It was precisely the moment she turned around and saw me. Sometimes, she would make a sarcastic comment, but most of the time, she just ignored me. With one eye on her, I noticed as several others did, three boys, one of whom I knew, Oliver Richenburg, equally as entitled but not half as obnoxious, heading towards her.
It was clear if he was going over to her, that it was not a social call. In fact, I had heard on the grapevine, the social media account that kept up with all the rumours about the so-called social set, they had had an acrimonious breakup when she posted some telling details about his life. He had cheated on her, or so it was said, and it had spiralled out of control.
She had seen him steaming across the room, heading straight for her. Everyone in the hall was on alert, expecting to get a front-row seat to a gigantic bust-up.
“Brace yourself, the proverbial was about to hit the fan.””
This means I’m not going to get anything to eat, and without food, well, I was not a happy person. There was only one course of action. I timed my arrival at the exact moment the two faced off. Both were surprised to see me.
“Just…”
Oliver was just about to launch into his opening argument when I glared at him and said, in a harsher tone than intended, “Before you launch into what I’m sure will be just the right amount of outrage, let me say this. You’re an idiot. You had a girlfriend that most of us would give a right arm just to be noticed for five seconds, and you cheated on her. Wow, Oliver, you’re not going to have much of a married life if you can’t keep it in your pants.” I turned on Emily, “And you, well, you know what I think of you, but seriously, who posts utter drivel on social media in a language that only cavemen could probably understand. I’m sure I’ll get a spray before long, but quite clearly, we’ve all had enough. Take your cat fight outside.”
“Who…” She went from amused to angry in the blink of an eye.
“Who? Who what? Who cares. Get out of here the pair of you before I do something I regret.” I think I displayed just the right amount of unhinged insanity that they both left.
I looked over at the head of the queue; everyone was watching them leave. “Shows over folks, let’s eat.”
That following few days before the invitation had been interesting, to say the least,. I had gained an unwanted notoriety that raised my profile from the usual obscurity to fifteen seconds of fame, where people I didn’t know came up and told me it was about time both of them were put in their place, to there who just shook their head. What was more disconcerting was that she now noticed me, and I was not sure if I wanted to be noticed.
Now, getting an invitation, just took it to a whole new level. My first inclination was just to not go. It was for me and a plus one. There wasn’t a girl l knew to take but when my sister, two years older and a survivor of college histrionics, learned about the invitation she said we were going. Darcy was more of a tomboy than the average girl of her age, and a lot tougher. She’d also heard about the fracas in the canteen and had said, “You could do a lot better than to pine over what you can’t have”.
I told her I had no intention, and she just snorted, adding, “We’ll see.” Now I really didn’t want to go, because she was going to find a new way to humiliate me.
And when the day arrived I was feeling quite sick. I’d received a message on my phone that a car would be arriving at six to pick us up. The RSVP lady was making sure I didn’t change my mind. Darcy was, surprisingly, impressed. And I was equally impressed to see the jeans and Polo shirt norm transform into a very beautiful young woman in the most amazing ball gown. All I could say was, “Who are you and what have you done with my sister.”
At precisely six, there was a knock on the door, which my father opened. It was a real-life chauffeur. My father yelled out, even though we were waiting in the next room, “Your pumpkin has arrived.” I was glad my misfortune was causing him amusement. The chauffeur didn’t bat an eye.
It was not a pumpkin. It was a Rolls Royce, a car I’d heard of but never seen.
Darcy was thoughtful, having got past surprised. “I think she’s trying to impress you, Will. Is there something going on that I need to know about?”
“I assure you she’s just trying to put me in my place. “w
I hadn’t taken much notice of where the ball was being held, but twenty minutes after being picked up I realised we were heading out of the city. It meant it could only be in one place, the spider’s lair, the family home, a mansion you got to drive past and could barely see behind the surrounding wall. Reputed to have more bedrooms than in the houses in my street, my father was amused that one family could live in such a place without getting lost.
We were invited to the castle, and it was becoming more like Cinderella with each passing minute. Sweeping majestically through the gates it was like passing through a portal into another world. It was a moment not lost on Darcy, who squeezed my hand and whispered, “Just remember their real people just like us.”
I got the impression she didn’t quite believe it herself.
It was a clear run-up to the majestic front entrance to the building, which seemed small but almost overwhelming close-up. The car stopped at the bottom of red carpeted stairs leading up into the house. The doors were opened by two men dressed in uniform. At the bottom of the stairs, waiting, for a very elegantly dressed woman.
She smiled when we reached her. “William, Darcy. Welcome.”
“You’re the lady on the phone.”
“Yes. My name is Charlotte, Miss Emily asked me to greet you and make sure you know where to go.”
Darcy was now looking somewhat lost in awe.
She asked, “Is this place for real. It’s like a fairy tale.”
“It has that initial wow factor, but that wears off after a while. Come, follow me.”
We walked slowly up the red-carpeted stairs and into the foyer with columns, a marble tiles floor, and the biggest chandelier I’d ever seen. I was expecting to see a fountain in the middle, but there wasn’t, just a table, a very large vase, and a flower arrangement that defied description.
We turned left through a portico, to where two more men dressed in uniform stood on either side, with another. We stopped, and Charlotte said to him, “Mr William Oldacre and Miss Darcy Oldacre.”
He read out our names by way of introduction to the people milling in the anteroom, but perhaps more for the line of people down the side where it seemed we were to be greeted. Charlotte led us to the head of the line, Miss Emily’s father.
“Mr James Edward Rothstein, may I present William Oldacre and his sister, Darcy.”
It was like greeting royalty, but I was not inclined to bow. Darcy was by now amused by the formality, even though she looked as though she belonged. She was certainly as beautiful in her gown as the others.
He held out his hand for a handshake. “So you are the young man who told Emily she needs to learn proper English before she uses those ghastly social media apps, I think they call them. I have to say I could not agree with you more.”
“Sir, I didn’t really mean anything by it.”
“Well, your words seemed to have had the desired effect, and I thank you. Perhaps before the night is out, you could deliver some more good advice. She won’t listen to us.”
“I think that race is run. She’s not likely to speak to me, and I’m not sure why she asked me to come.”
“She didn’t, I did, but I suspect she’ll either thank me or hate me more.” He sighed. “Us men will never understand women. The night is young, my boy, have fun.”
With that, I was dismissed and sent to Emily’s mother, Theresa, her older sister, Jasmine, her other sister, Kendra, and twin brothers, Samuel and Thomas. That left Emily, who needed no introduction.
It was hard to tell if she was amused or angry. I simply put a frown on my face, thinking it would preclude any conversation.
“Your father has a unique sense of humour, Emily,” I said.
“He does, indeed.”
Darcy took a step back and looked at the pair of us, then smiled. “I can see why he did. I’m Darcy, Will’s older sister. You piss him off, you piss me off, and that you don’t want to do.”
“Not more than I already have?”
“I’ve no doubt there’s a very simple explanation for it, but let me sum it up in one sentence. Try to see what’s in front of you. Actually,” she looked at me, too, “It’s good advice for the both of you. Now, I was promised top-shelf booze, where’s the bar?”
Charlotte had watched the exchange with an amused expression. I suspect she knew every one of Emily’s foibles. “I’ll take you. I think I need a drink too.”
Emily looked at me. “You said you would give your right arm to be noticed. Well, you’ve been noticed. And when I’m done here, you and I have a few things to discuss. And your name is down on my card for the first dance.”
“What makes you think I can dance.”
“You can, so don’t tell me otherwise.”
“What makes you think I want to dance with you?”
“Because when you do, I will answer three of your questions. Anything. And you have to answer just one for me. Deal?”
“This is not one of your little schemes, is it?
She shook her head. “Don’t make me stamp my foot in annoyance William. I promise you, what you see is what you get. No schemes, no tricks, no lies.”
It was too good to be true. This was a rabbit hole I didn’t want to go down, but did I have a choice?
I nodded. “OK. Where’s the bar. This is going to require fortification.
I stayed at the bar, slowly working my way through several bottles of beer that I’d never heard of, while I watched Emily, and the family, finish greeting the guests, and then mingle with everyone on a less formal basis.
There were over two hundred people but the ballroom did not seem crowded. People gathered together in groups, and the Rothsteins dutifully stopped at each for a few minutes. It was interesting to see Emily behave much like an ambassador, a side of her I had never seen.
Every now and then, once she knew where I was, she looked over, discreetly, and smiled.
It was not lost on me what Darcy had said, and the few words we had when I reached the bar were surprising. “She likes you a lot, you know. Knowing you, though, you’ll blow a good opportunity through prejudice or stupidity or even both. I know you like her to William, no one professed their disdain more who does not love their nemesis. Don’t make me have to thump some sense into you.”
She was right, of course. I fell in love with Emily the first time I saw her, knowing that we could never be together, which made it frustrating and annoying, and went a long way towards explaining why I was hostile towards her. If she despised me, it couldn’t go anywhere. Now, here, that façade was going to be impossible to keep up.
Then, all of a sudden, it was time for dancing, the orchestra, yes it was a real orchestra, was playing the first stains of a Viennese Waltz. Perhaps if I just sidled along the bar towards the exit…
“I can dance too, you know.” Emily must have known I would try to disappear. “Many, many painful lessons when I could have been out with my friends. No possible use for it on this earth, but there it is. Take my hand, William, show me there’s more than just a grumpy man under that immaculate tuxedo.”
As they say, the gauntlet had been thrown down.
About twenty couples had taken to the floor and were arranging themselves in a circle, and we all ended up facing each other.
The music started. I bowed to Emily. Emily curtsied to me. She took my hand, did a twirl, and we came together, very close.
Could she hear my heart beating? It was almost racing. Just standing there was perhaps the most intoxicating moment of my life.
Then it began, first one way, then the other. I kept an eye on those on either side, maintaining distance.
“You’re not counting your steps, are you?” We parted, and she came back, close in, and whispered in my ear.
“No. Just making sure it’s the right one.”
Out again, back again, close, going around and around, trying not to get dizzy. It was the one thing that bothered me in classes.
“Is this close enough for you?”
“Is that your one question?”
She frowned. “No.”
Concentration, then. “Ask your first.”
“Have you always been this entitled, bratty child?”
“Yes.”
Well, that didn’t give me much to work with. At least she admitted it.
She went out, doing a twirl, then came back, a smile on her face.
“Next?”
“Why am I here? I’m not in the same stratosphere you are, and it seems pointless. Except if you want to point out to everyone here that I don’t belong.”
“What was it you said one, flying at 30,000 feet without oxygen. Put it this way, you wouldn’t know if you were not there with me. Get ready, I call it the skipping bit.”
I’d forgotten about it. It was not long but brought many a learner undone.
Over, twirl, back, a close hug, then a little separation, hand behind her back, arm on my shoulder.
I thought about that answer. Did she think I was her equal? I certainly didn’t think so.
“You didn’t answer why I am here?
“Because I asked my father to invite you.”
“Third question, “Why would you invite me given our history?”
“Hold that thought, we’re changing partners for a circuit.”
Then, all of a sudden she was gone, and opposite me was one of her friends, whose look told me I really shouldn’t be here. Whatever Emily’s motives were, they were hers alone.
One minute and twenty seconds of utter silence, with a girl who I would never get to dance with within a million years, from a world I could never expect to be part of.
In the end, “Well done Will. Just don’t disappoint her.” And then she was gone, and Emily was back.
“Where you come from does not define who you are Will, and I failed to realise that. We got off on the wrong foot, metaphorically, and I want to change that, starting now. Now I have just one question, and you have to answer honestly.”
The thought of what she might ask filled me with dread.
“It took me a while to work out why you hated me so much. One of your questions proved it, and you think you’re not good enough for me. Most boys pretend to love me so they can get what they want, but they don’t love me the way you do, do they?”
Cornered, with nowhere to go.
Stop, twirl, out, back, together. I wished it would end and I could run away.
“Would it matter what I said?”
“Yes, William, it would.”
“Then no they don’t, and yes, I do, have done so from the first day I saw you. Make of that what you will, but it’s the truth.”
And, then, the dance was done. A bow, a curtsey. She could have walked away. Instead, she held out her hand, and I took it. She was quite literally the most enchanting girl in the room, and for the moment, she wanted to be with me.
She smiled. “Your name is in number two place on my dance card, so there’s no escape.”
“And probably number three.”
She nodded. “Oh, and in case you haven’t realized it yet, for some unknown reason, I seem to be in love with you, too. As my father often says, the night is young, and we have much to explore.”
Thrills, Spills, and just a dash of Romance 