Authors: T A Williams
‘So you see, Tommaso, it was not meant to be. But it scarred me–’ his fist beat against his heart ‘–here.’
‘And now, all these years later, it’s happened again.’ Tom tried to make his voice as encouraging as possible. ‘But this time the girl’s father isn’t going to get in the way. Janet’s a grown woman. Go for it. You’re a lucky man, Alfonso.’
The Italian’s hand snaked out and caught Tom’s wrist. ‘As are you,
amico mio
. Rosalind is a wonderful, wonderful girl.’ He took a sip of his champagne. ‘And I’ll tell you this, she’s one of the few. I’ve seen many beautiful young girls fall by the wayside: drugs, men, drink, other women. God help me, I’ve helped a good few of them along that road. But not Rosalind. You know what we called her in the business?
L’intoccabile
. You know what that means. She is one of a kind.’
‘I think she is too.’
‘You are a lucky man, Tom.’
‘Why’s he a lucky man, Fonsie?’ She had just caught the end of the conversation.
Just at that moment, there was a discreet cough beside Alfonso. A porter had come to announce the arrival of the final two guests. Tom looked at his watch. A quarter to seven. The schedule was still looking good. He stood up.
‘Thanks for the champagne, Alfonso. I wish you luck. I’ll go and see them.’
He and Ros went out to the hall. The porter was just coming in the front door, carrying two bags. In the middle of the hall, looking rather overwhelmed, were a girl and a boy. They looked about twenty.
‘Hi, you must be Penny and … ?’
‘This is Scott. Are you Mr Marshall?’ She held out a hand very formally. On closer inspection, she was probably nearer thirty, but the boy looked a lot younger.
‘Tom, please call me Tom.’ He shook hands. ‘Hi, Scott. Welcome. I gather you have had a rough trip.’
The boy cleared his throat.
‘The hire car kept on cutting out on the way here. I kept turning the ignition off and then back on again. Each time, after a while, it would work again. Then, just up the road here, it finally packed up. Big time.’
He was a well-spoken young man. Ros could see, from the look in Penny’s eyes, she liked him a lot.
‘Let me introduce Ros.’ They shook hands. ‘She’s another one of our co-authors. The others are upstairs getting freshened up. Shall I show you to your room? We’ll expect you down here for a drink at seven. Sorry it doesn’t give you much time.’
‘We’ll be fine, thanks.’
He led the way to room 12. He left them at the door.
Scott opened the door and turned on the lights. ‘Wow, it’s enormous. Look at those curtains and the carpet is about a foot thick. This is the life.’
‘I think we’re going to be very comfortable here.’
The porter deposited their bags and slipped out, closing the door behind him. ‘Talk about service. And, Scottie, it’s warm. Look at the size of that radiator.’ She took her jacket off.
‘Erm, Pen, there’s just one problem.’ Scott had been looking around. ‘There’s only one bed. I thought you asked for two.’
‘So there is.’ She didn’t want to lie to him, so she skipped the two beds query. ‘Never mind, it’s enormous. There’s bags of space. We’ll be fine.’
‘OK. If you say so.’
‘Now, do you want to use the bathroom first, or shall I?’
‘You go first. You’re the belle of the ball, after all.’
Ros had perfected the art of the quick shower and change years ago. She was towelling herself dry only three minutes after her clothes landed on the bed. Two minutes after that she was back in the bedroom, searching for suitable clothes. She had already decided not to wear anything too showy. She was, to all intents and purposes, just another hopeful co-writer.
By five to seven she was back downstairs. Tom was still in his original jeans and a jumper. The old bar was a dark room, lined with deep Burgundy wallpaper. Gold framed oils of horses and dogs lined the walls. Tom found himself wondering how Noah was getting on up at the farm. Hopefully not troubling the ducks too much.
He saw Ros walk in and his heart jumped. He knew he would never tire of watching her walk. It wasn’t quite strutting. There was no arrogance about it. It was just a perfect form of motion.
‘Wow, that was a quick change!’ She had opted for a pink V-neck jumper and light grey jeans. She caught his eyes down the front of her V-neck, and she smiled.
‘It’s all right for you men. You can just wander round in the same pair of jeans for weeks and nobody minds.’
‘Clean this morning.’ He did a little pirouette.
‘Rosalind, you look exquisite.’ Alfonso had also undergone a swift transformation: the yellow jumper had been replaced by an immaculate blazer; the white shirt was now a delicate light blue. He advanced upon them with a smile. He took Ros’s hand and held her out at arm’s length. He stepped back, admiring her. ‘You have always had the most wonderful
derrière
. Don’t you agree, Tom?’
Tom most certainly did. The arrival of the first guests saved him from having to voice his opinion. Penny and Scott, although the last to arrive, managed to be the first down.
‘Penny, Scott. That was quick. Here, would you like a glass of champagne?’ Before he could turn, a waiter glided up with a tray. They helped themselves to ice cold flutes.
‘Thank you very much for inviting us here. It’s the most amazing place.’ Penny had changed her top. She was now wearing a pretty, light blue blouse. The top three buttons were undone, revealing quite a lot of her breasts. Scott’s eyes looked as if they were about to pop out of his head.
‘You’re very welcome. But it is Alfonso here who is our host. We are all very grateful to him for allowing us to meet here.’
Alfonso, now visibly recovering from his
coup de foudre
, leant forward. With great panache, he accomplished his twin objectives of kissing her hand, and looking down her front.
‘
Incantevole
.’
Penny blushed at the attention of this handsome older man. Something stirred in her memory banks. ‘Excuse me, but I am sure I know you. Have we met before?’
‘
Signorina
, I would have remembered.’ She blushed even redder. ‘Alas, it is probably the fault of the media.’
Ros explained. ‘Alfonso is the head of a big fashion house. Do you know the name Camaleonte?’
It was Scott who replied. ‘I certainly do. We are doing a study of your business model at the moment. Sorry, I should have said: I’m a law student.’ He turned to Penny excitedly. ‘Imagine what the prof will say when he hears I’ve met the man himself.’ He bowed formally and offered his hand. ‘It is an honour to meet you, sir.’
‘And I you, sir.’ Alfonso shook it with all the gravitas of an elder statesman to a visiting dignitary.
Formalities completed, Penny started telling Tom and Alfonso about her PhD. She was in her final months, close to presenting her dissertation.
‘It’s French. My special interest is the nineteenth century and Émile Zola in particular. If all goes well, there may be a lecturing vacancy for me at Nottingham.’
While she was speaking to the men, Scott filled in the details of their relationship to Ros.
‘We’re both at the University of Nottingham. Penny is a postgrad, while I’m third year law.’
‘And you live together?’
‘Yes. We have done for two years now.’ He stopped abruptly. ‘I mean we have been sharing a house for two years.’ He was blushing now. ‘We aren’t living together in that sense. Three of us share the house. Pen, me and a medic called Jamie. Penny was a bit anxious about coming down here on her own. So she asked me to come with her, just to hold her hand, so to speak.’
Ros remembered the insistence that Penny had put upon having a double bed. Somehow, she got the feeling that Scott was going to end up holding a lot more than Penny’s hand.
Just then, a figure appeared in the doorway.
‘Ah, Jimmy, welcome again.’ Tom spotted him and beckoned him into the room. He was wearing a very smart grey suit, shirt and silver tie. He eyed Tom’s jeans.
‘I feel a bit overdressed. I could go up and change if you like.’
Ros put a calming hand on his arm. ‘Absolutely not. Now, can we offer you a glass of fizz?’
They talked some more, until Maggie and Suzy appeared in the doorway. Tom caught Ros’s eye. So this was the Indian Torturer and her protégée. He walked over to her. Ros had warned him of the significance of the walking stick, so he avoided any mention. She was a slightly overweight, rather formidable-looking forty something. The blonde girl at her side could have been half her age, maybe even less.
‘Hello, you must be Maggie. I’m sorry I wasn’t here to greet you. I’m Tom Marshall.’ He held out his hand.
‘Good evening. I’m sorry we were a bit late.’ Her handshake was powerful.
The sweet looking blonde girl gave him a smile. ‘Hello, I’m Suzy.’
‘Very pleased to meet you, Suzy. And you were bang on time. Come and meet the others.’ He led them over. A waiter cruised past with a tray, dispensing champagne.
Ros, whose female antennae were immensely superior to Tom’s, noticed the look that Jimmy the accountant gave the blonde girl. More interesting still, she couldn’t miss the sparkle in the girl’s eyes as she caught his.
Mmm
, she thought to herself,
this might be interesting
.
At that moment Janet and Melissa came in. Melissa wore high heels and a rather loud green dress. Janet was wearing a cream-coloured creation that looked very smart and very expensive. Ros heard what sounded like a tyre exploding beside her. It was Alfonso, sucking in his breath. As he rushed across to Janet, Ros began to realise what the boys might have been discussing over the champagne.
Gallantly, he first took Melissa’s hand. He raised it to his lips and kissed it reverently. She swallowed hard and croaked a greeting. He relinquished the hand and turned towards Janet. Melissa remained standing there, eyes fixed on the back of her hand. The waiter offered her a glass of wine. She didn’t even hear him.
‘Signorina Janet,’ he pronounced it
à la française
, ‘Jeanette. You look exquisite. Let me see, you have been shopping at one of my competitors, haven’t you?’ She gave him a broad smile.
‘I tried a few of yours, Signor dei Conti, but they were all for younger, slimmer bodies.’ She accepted a glass of champagne gratefully.
‘That is unforgivable. I design for real women, Signorina, not for teenagers. Tell me which shop it was and I will contact them at once. They must have the full range of sizes. I love the form of a real woman, not the anorexic mannequins they give us these days.’ He looked across at Ros. ‘You, Rosalind, you have never been wafer thin.’
‘Alfonso, even on a diet of celery and mineral water, I never got down to the really skinny sizes.’
Penny was gradually beginning to realise that hers was a face she also recognised. She bent forward and whispered to Scott. ‘Ros is a famous model.’ He barely heard a word. He was still coming to terms with the way his housemate of two years had suddenly sloughed off her outer shell and blossomed into a beautiful butterfly. And a butterfly with boobs on display.
There was the sound of running feet. ‘I’m terribly sorry we’re late. I hope we haven’t held you up.’ Tiffany was red in the face, her husband perspiring. Ros caught Alfonso’s eye. His eyebrows told her he knew full well what they had been doing.
‘Of course not. Welcome, Tiffany, welcome Luca.’ Tom did not spare a thought as to how they might have been spending their time. ‘Come and meet your fellow writers.’
‘
Buona sera
, Signor dei Conti.’ Luca held out his hand to Alfonso. The Italian raised an eyebrow.
‘
Un’altro Italiano
?’
‘Sort of. My parents are Italian but I was born and bred in London. My Italian is pretty rusty these days.’
‘As is mine, my boy. Here, have a glass of champagne.’ Alfonso shook his hand warmly, before returning his attention to Janet.
‘Now, Signorina, you must call me Alfonso. I insist.’
She smiled. ‘And I’m Janet.’
‘Jeanette, yes, yes you are.’ He lapsed into stunned silence.
Ros had never seen the old ladykiller so completely bamboozled. She turned to Tom and murmured, ‘Is he?’
‘Hook, line and solid gold sinker.’
‘Wow!’
The different participants gradually got talking. Ros was pleased to see Tiffany and her husband return to normal colour and temperature. Tiffany turned out to be a chatty girl with a bright and enquiring mind. Luca was a handsome man in his thirties, not dissimilar to Alfonso in his prime.
Tom made a point of looking after Jimmy. He was the only person who had not brought a companion. Alfonso had clearly taken Janet under his well-tailored wing, so he mopped Melissa up as well. It took a bit of doing, but she was finally induced to snap out of her catatonic shock. He soon had her chatting to Jimmy.
‘Accountancy? Another money man! My husband’s an investment banker. I don’t normally admit to that these days but in these luxury surroundings it’s maybe not such a dirty word.’
‘There are good bankers and bad bankers. I have met both types. It’s like the rest of humanity. The only difference is that they deal in the sort of figures only astrophysicists can understand.’
They let themselves be persuaded to accept a top up of champagne. Moments later, a waitress appeared, carrying a silver platter of nibbles. She was dressed in a black skirt, black stockings, white blouse and a white apron. Ros happened to spot the expression on the face of the Indian Torturer, as she watched the girl walk among them. Clearly she would have no shortage of material for her next literary offering. Ros turned away with a grimace. Tom was right beside her.
‘Have you ever seen the expression on the face of a cat, looking at a canary?’
He followed the direction of her eyes. ‘A bit creepy, isn’t it? It’s the little blonde girl I’m worried about. She doesn’t look happy at all.’ He turned helplessly towards Ros. ‘After reading that piece Maggie wrote, and now meeting her, I fear the worst. I reckon we are in the presence of a real sadist.’
‘I believe the technical term in this case is “dominatrix”. And I agree. She’s really scary.’ Ros paused for a moment. ‘I tell you what. Why don’t you separate the writers into a little huddle. We’ve got half an hour till dinner. I’ll get Alfonso to look after the plus ones. I’ll ask him specially to look after, what’s her name?’