Tripping on Love (16 page)

'He didn’t tell me he had a wife but it's obvious he has or else he wouldn’t be running off to live in
London would he' she said dramatically. I passed her a piece of tissue with half a boiled sweet stuck to it.

'For your eyes' I said, also passing her my small hand-held mirror.
 

It had always intrigued me seeing other women cry and they not care about how it affected their make-up. I wasn't sure if that made me a perfectionist or just plain old vain.

I had a dilemma. H clearly hadn’t told Soreena about his situation, despite her reassuring me he had. If Soreena was to salvage any part of her relationship with him, she needed to know the truth. She was my friend and my loyalties should lie with her. Once she knew all the facts perhaps she'd feel better about his dramatic exit from her life. She could do so much better than him anyhow. I took a deep breath. 

'Soreena, there's something you need to know.' Soreena's head shot up and her eyes looked questioningly into mine. 'It's about Silks and both H and I disappearing that night.' Soreena's eyes narrowed and she waited for me to continue.

'It doesn’t sound like H has told you the full story of what happened to us' I said carefully. 'He didn’t want me to tell you, he asked me to promise him I’d keep it a secret from you' I sighed.

Hearing myself say the words I knew I had made a big mistake agreeing to keep quiet about his charade. Soreena was st
aring at me oddly, a wild look in her eyes.

'You bitch' she hissed, standing up and backing away from me. She wiped her
tears with the back of her hand, smudging her mascara. 

Alarm bells went off in my head. Had she misunderstood what I was about to say? Surely she didn’t think that something other than kidnap had gone on between H and I?

She lunged forward before I had a chance to speak or move away.

'How could you?' she screamed.

The slap came far sooner than I was expecting. My cheek stung as the contact with her palm was made. Instinctively I reached up my hand to my face, feeling the skin tingling and burning.

Soreena looked down at her hand, a fresh wave of tears flowing from her eyes and then turned away, storming off towards the bridge.

I sat for a few moments in shock. I couldn’t blame Soreena for jumping to conclusions; she was in a fragile state, but there was no excuse for slapping me, without first hearing me out.  Spotting my compact mirror on the floor, I picked it up gingerly and looked at my reflection.

The slap had left an angry red mark.
  Looking around tentatively, I was relieved to be hidden behind a hedge and the trellis. No one appeared to be glancing in my direction. I spotted Soreena's lemon dress weaving past the bridge in the direction of the main entrance. 

The brass band suddenly started up and a microphone static filled the air. The charity event was about to start. I would have to locate my mother and Sampson and get seated.
  

Quickly backing into a corner, I hastily applied bronzer to my reddened cheek before heading back into the main crowd.
  I took my seat next to Sampson near the front of the lawn, with an uninterrupted view of the stage. 

Each year the opening auction raised huge amounts of money for charity. My mother played a key part in being one of the most generous bidders.
  Most people didn’t realise that she was always accompanied by a wealthy partner and was spending their money, not her own. I hoped poor Sampson didn’t suffer the same fate. However, judging by the size of the engagement ring he was preparing to give her, he wasn't short in the finance department. 

The event organisers obviously wanted to ensure this year’s bidding was no different. My mother was seated in prime position.
 

'Darling
, whatever happened to your make-up?' my mother whispered, looking at my face with distaste.

I looked quizzically at her, pretending I had no idea to what she was referring. Discreetly looking down at the polished cutlery in front of me, I tilted my head to try and see my reflection in the knife.

'You should tone it down a little, it’s far too dark' she continued disapprovingly. 'There's also a rather nice man for you, seated on table eight. He is recently single, lives in Monaco and looking to settle down' she said moving her eyes to the left, in the direction of table eight.

I casually looked towards table eight. Five women were seated with three men. Two of the men appeared to be in their fifties and the third man sat in a wheelchair with an oxygen tank attached. There was no mistaking him for less than seventy years old. I turned to my mother.

'Are you joking? There's two men at least double my age and a third that looks like he is about to drop dead any moment' I said incredulous. 

Did she really think I was that desperate for love that I’d have to consider someone that probably couldn’t eat solid food and needed Viagra in the bedroom department? My mother waved her hand at me dismissively.
 

'Stop being so fussy Lizzie -
the darker haired one is very attractive for his age. It wouldn’t hurt you to give him a chance' she snapped, annoyed at me.

I knew it wasn't for my best interests she was trying to palm me off with a man old enough to be my father. It was the part about him living in
Monaco that had sparked her attention. Undoubtedly she was hoping that I would fall madly in love and move there, so that she could visit and tell her friends she had a third home in Monaco.  She'd already told everyone she had a second home in Anguilla. What she was alluding to, was the company owned property in which Miles stayed on his work visits to Anguilla. She'd only accompanied both he and Stella on one trip, but it had resulted in an elaborate lie that she divided her time between both here and there. Sampson looked at me and smiled sympathetically.

'Lizzie isn't interested in older men' he said to my mother. 'Leave her be and let her make her own choices.'

I was grateful for the interlude even though it did mean Sampson hadn’t forgotten my crossed wires conversation earlier. My mother huffed like a scolded child and picked up her champagne glass. What on earth attracted Sampson to her spoilt, childish ways was beyond my understanding.

I settled back into my seat as the music started up again and the lights dimmed. The auction was about to begin and a hushed silence descended around us. A rotund woman in a sparkling red dress took to the stage. She smiled in our direction as she walked to the podium and I immediately looked to Sampson who was nervously clutching at his cravat. Was he going to publicly propose to my mother from the stage? My mother would be in her element if he did. She had taken great pleasure in showing off their relationship to many of her associates in the couple of weeks that I had been in
Spain. 

'Good Evening Ladies and Gentlemen' the woman's voice boomed out. 'Welcome to the 15th Annual Dragonfly Ball,' she paused waiting for the crowd's applause to die down. 'We are delighted you are able to join us at this wonderful event in support of the Jenson Michael Trust.'
 

I looked across at Sampson and noticed the trickle of sweat on his forehead. My mother was sitting very still beside him. She looked almost statuesque. Looking around the marquee, I surveyed the hundred other guests all seated, bodies angled towards the stage and large screen area. The woman in the sparkly dress continued.

'Before we begin this evening, I have a special request from one of our long standing supporters and benefactors.'

My breath caught in my throat. Had my instincts been correct? Had Sampson planned to propose on stage to my mother? My heart thudded in my chest as I looked eagerly toward him wide eyed. It was such a romantic and wonderful setting; I couldn’t help but feel proud to be welcoming this man into our family.

The woman's voice rang loudly across the room again, as Sampson caught my eye questioningly.

'Please take this opportunity to welcome to the stage Ms Saunders.'
  

An array of applause swept loudly around me as my mother slowly stood up from her seat, ignoring both Sampson and I, and made her way to the stage. My body felt rooted to the spot, unable to move.

I noticed Sampson looked just as confused and shocked as I felt. People around us were standing up and cheering as my mother walked towards the static mic and host. Sampson looked at me nervously.

‘What's going on?'

Shrugging my shoulders, my heart began pounding, threatening to burst from my chest as my mother took the mic. Dread washed through me. She wouldn’t dare to auction me off, would she? I turned around fearfully scanning the crowd. The attendee's were a mixed age group but it hadn’t escaped my attention that most of the men that had arrived alone were middle aged. I shuddered. 

I was going to be auctioned off to a fat, sweaty, balding man who would assume that because he'd donated a small fortune for me, I would do anything he wished. I thought of the man at table eight, imagining him forcing me to eat sushi from his hairy chest or suck chocolate mousse from his wrinkled toes. Feeling nauseous, I grabbed the chilled bottle of water in the centre of the table and poured myself a large glass. Sampson caught my attention and signalled to the stage.

The large screen behind my mother flickered to life. A photo of my mother and Sampson cuddling and gazing lovingly into the camera filled the screen. My eyes quickly met with Sampson’s, who had paled next to me.  Every other head in the room seemed to shift their attention towards our table. What on earth was going on? My mother's voice commanded attention back to the stage. 

'Thank you for allowing me this opportunity' she said in her over the top attempt at speaking posh. Cringing with embarrassment, I hoped that nobody else had recognised the change of inflection in her voice.
 

'You see
, today is a special day for me and my partner Sampson.' My mother looked towards our table as she said this. Both Sampson and I shifted in our seats, unsure what to expect.  

'Three months ago today, I met a wonderful man who has since turned my life around' my mother said happily, pausing for effect as the crowd cooed in delight. The still photo on the large screen began to blend into other images, one of my mother and Sampson on the beach, another smiling over a bowl of pasta, continuously changing; all showing the happy couple at various stages.

I smiled across at Sampson; it was a lovely unexpected gesture that my mother had planned, if perhaps a little over the top. Sampson however, seemed to be glowing with pride and raised his glass of champagne up to the stage, blowing a kiss.

The photos came to an abrupt stop and the screen filled with red love hearts.
 

'Sampson Riley,
thank you for being a wonderful support and partner' she cooed across the mic looking directly at him. Her loving gaze was returned and I noticed Sampson reach towards his pocket. I bit down on my lip excitedly. I knew what Sampson was thinking. This was the perfect moment to propose to my mother. 

Behind my mother; the red love hearts gave way to white writing and the screen stilled. A hushed silence descended across the crowd as four words appeared.

My mother looked towards the screen and I followed her gaze, gasping as I read the sentence.

Sampson, who had already removed the ring box from his pocket, was walking towards the stage to join my mother. He stopped in his tracks looking at the screen. My mother leaned forward speaking loudly and purposefully into the mic.

'Sampson, Will you marry me?' 

Picking up my glass of champagne, I took a large gulp and sank lower into my seat. My mother was standing vulnerable on a stage in front of an entire marquee of people, asking a man she'd known for only three months, to marry her. Whatever had possessed her to think this would be a good idea
? Clenching my fists, I dug my nails hard into my palms and didn’t dare to breathe.

Sampson skipped the last couple of steps onto the stage and swooped my mother up into his arms, kissing her. A large cheer came from the crowd in response and I unclenched my fists, allowing myself to breathe a sigh of relief.
 

Clapping excitedly along with the rest of the audience, I looked on as Sampson got down on one knee, presented the ring box and carefully opened
it. My mother gasped at the sight of the diamond as Sampson took her hand and slid the ring onto her slender finger.

'I couldn’t think of anything I’d like more than to have you as my wife' he said as my mother wiped away surprised tears.

'You were going to propose to me?' she asked in shocked amusement. Sampson cuddled her again, nodding his head.

I smiled widely
, looking around at the happy faces in the crowd. An engagement always brought good feeling. Even the sour faced old maid on the next table, who was known to be as hard as a wire brush, was wiping away a tear. 

The screen behind them changed to a flashing congratulations sign and the crowd applauded enthusiastically, as my mother and Sampson made their way off the stage.

I stood up and greeted them both with kisses as they approached the table, discreetly squeezing my mother's hand in support. The music started up again and the lady in the sparkly dress took centre stage and began to explain the auction rules.