A Face To Die For (4 page)

In the sanctuary of my little room - thank heavens now vacated; I lay fully clothed in a half-conscious state on the bed. I felt I was swirling on a musical carousel - round and round - up and down to the beat of my pounding head.

What seemed like some hours later after eventually achieving blissful oblivion, during which the gorgeous Alex frequently drifted in and out of some erotic dreams I stirred to hear a kind of buzzing in the room, plus there were other odd noises outside in the hallway. It sounding like the front door opening and shutting, accompanied by muffled, giggly voices; presumably Vanessa and Fiona returning from the nightclub.

In spite of my still thumping head, I pulled the cover up over me and soon drifted off to sleep again.

*

Next morning when I finally awoke, I was shocked and angry to discover a snoring man asleep on the rug by my bed. He was a chap called Charles whom I remembered meeting sometime during the evening. How the devil had he got there, and why hadn't he gone with the others to the nightclub? Crikey, I really must have well and truly zonked out. It was disconcerting however, to know that this relatively strange man had not only come into my room uninvited, but stayed there most of the night.

Up before my snoring roommate, I went to the bathroom and quickly washed and changed from my badly crumpled black grosgrain dress, into clean underwear, slacks and jumper.

When he finally staggered out half an hour later he appeared not to have remembered anything about how he'd arrived on my bedroom floor. This angered me all the more. However, after what seemed to be a genuine apology from him, I felt I couldn’t object too profusely. We were all standing about in the kitchen and Vanessa was handing out mugs of strong tea and coffee.

'Sorry, old girl,' he guffawed, moving to my side. 'Didn't snore too loudly, I hope? Always far worse when I'm drunk. Still, you were quite safe; I'm totally incapable when I've had that amount to drink.'

Thank God, I thought, looking around for Alex.

Charles continued on, 'Wait a mo, where's poor old Toby? I last recall him in the bog being sick as a bloody parrot. Yeah. Then I think he fell into the bathtub… must have kipped there for the night. Ah, that's it. I remember now… I'd intended to crash out in there myself. So
that's
how I must have found my way to your room, old girl.' He put his hand on my shoulder.

I stared at him coldly. If he calls me 'old girl' again, I'll thump him!

He peered down at me inanely through bloodshot eyes. 'Not too cross, are you, old girl? Had to peg out somewhere, you see. Sorry again about that.'

Vanessa must have caught my disgusted expression and glared at him. 'So you should be, Charles! How awful for you, Annabel darling. I hope you're not too put out?'

I smiled sweetly. 'It's okay.' By now I wasn't thinking any more about his intrusion but more about his friend sleeping in the bath! 'Oh no!’ I gasped, flushed with embarrassment. ‘I was in there just now getting washed and changed. I'd no idea he was in there too! Thank goodness the shower curtain was pulled across.’

We went to look. Yes, his friend was still in the bath sleeping peacefully behind the shower curtain. Someone, Charles maybe, or perhaps even Vanessa or Fiona, had put a shower cap on him, squeezed toothpaste all over his face and inserted a Tampax in each ear. He looked ridiculous.

It was worth a laugh, I suppose. Then, just as I turned to leave, Charles leaned across and switched on the shower. 'Wake up, Toby, you lazy bastard!'

Protests and expletives erupted from Toby, as he struggled out of the bath.

What idiotic blokes they all were! My thoughts shifted to Alex again, wondering where he might be. No sign of him so far, although I noticed his bags were still in the hall.

'Where's Alex?' I casually asked Vanessa back in the kitchen. 'Didn’t he go with you to the club last night?'

'No, he stayed here and slept on the sofa.' She handed me a large mug of tea.

Good; then I still might see him. She looked at me quizzically, as if reading my mind. Then her expression quickly changed to one of apology. 'I'm afraid he went off earlier darling, before I was up. Left me this note...'

She handed me a folded piece of notepaper addressed to her. The handwritten message inside said...
Gone to meet a friend in The City Barge. See you later - Alex.

'It's a pub on the river at Strand on the Green,' she explained.

'I see.’ I handed her back the note. 'Shame. I really enjoyed talking to him last night, that's all.'

Obviously seeing my disappointment Vanessa put her arm around me. 'Sorry darling, he probably won't be back till tonight. Of course you're welcome to hang on if you want, but I've no guarantee what time...'

'No, it's all right. I'll get off home soon.'

I bet he's meeting a girlfriend, I thought gloomily. He's bound to have a stack of them. I mulled over this depressing probability; a dull ache still throbbed at the back of my head as I sipped my mug of hot, soothing tea.

On the Tube back to Ealing that afternoon I couldn't get Alex Karos out of my mind. I knew he would be flying off to Switzerland next day and that most of his life was spent in America. Even so, I still couldn't stop thinking of one day getting to know him better.

Realistically though, I knew the chance of that was likely to be nil. He was way out of my league. All the same, I began to wildly fantasise about what might have happened had I perhaps wandered through in the night to where he'd been sleeping on the sitting room sofa?

If only I hadn't had so much to drink. Who knows how things might have ended up between us; especially with the house having been almost empty until the girls got back?

All this thinking was madness. Overnight, I'd completely forgotten my previous resolve about men. What's more it seemed my desire was for a man I would probably
never
see again. Suddenly life seemed so terribly unfair.

CHAPTER 3

Was I glad I hadn't gone to
The Saddle Room
with Vanessa and her friends!

Listening to her prattling on about it at work the next morning I realised that taking myself off to bed that night had been the wisest thing to do, in spite of the intrusion by the idiot, Charles.

Apparently after Vanessa and Fiona had left the club the others had been chucked out because of their rowdy behaviour. Jeremy was now permanently barred for using obscene language and exposing his bottom on the dance floor. As much as I liked Vanessa, her men friends certainly were not to my taste.

It also dawned on me later that I hadn’t met anyone who might be called Vanessa's current boyfriend at that party. However, the following week I learned she was heavily dating someone called Rowley. Odd. I was sure when I was introduced to the guy at the party he’d been engaged to someone called Julie or Julia. Most confusing.

For me, though, meeting Vanessa's half-brother, Alex, had without question been the happiest recollection of the whole event. Compared to Alex her male friends were immature, stupid little boys. If they were an example of guard’s officer material, then heaven help the armed forces!

*

Christmas came and went uneventfully. I had a few days off work and so I joined Mum and Philip in North Wales for the holiday.

Maddock House, a lovely old stone house which Philip had inherited from his father some years back, was being turned into a hotel, and work had already begun on the alterations.

'Either that, or I’ll have to sell,' Philip had proclaimed the day I arrived. 'It's not just a huge responsibility but an expense to keep as simply an occasional residence.'

Obviously, he now fancied the challenge of doing it up himself and turning it into another profitable business venture.

Situated on a cliff betwixt Porthmadog and BorthyGest, it was in an ideal hotel location. In fact we'd had many delightful family holidays there ourselves over the years; heavenly sunny days of activities and picnicking fun on secluded beaches and craggy coves. The sands there could be quite extensive when the tide was out.

The house, an old Georgian mansion of some ten bedrooms and four large reception rooms, had a turreted west wing, which had been built on before Philip's family had moved in. The grounds were far-reaching, with rolling lawns and flowering shrubberies. Easily able to visualise how the whole place might be turned into an attractive private hotel, I was impressed with the idea.

Mum was concentrating these days on being Philip's wife and partner fulltime in his restaurant businesses. He now had two; the original one in Ealing and the latest one in Kew were both called Jaspers. They shared the running of these. The hotel venture, although a brilliant idea, was nevertheless clearly going to take time, adding pressure to an already busy life for them. Therefore, there would have to be periods spent apart, and it sometimes concerned me that their marriage might suffer because of it.

*

Over the next couple of years my fashion career received an earnest boost at Courtneys under Edward's guiding wing. He was showing more and more confidence in me and now, as his main assistant, I was soon becoming involved with many of his designing choices. He would eagerly discuss ideas for fabrics and colour choices with me and I was overjoyed to feel I was now playing a functional part in the success of the House of Courtney collections.

It had even been vaguely hinted amongst the rest of the girls that I was beginning to look like his heir apparent. However, I personally doubted this; mainly because Edward showed no indication of ever leaving, and my full intention anyhow was to move on, when I was ready to run my own business one day; and sooner, rather than later.

Of the many wealthy and famous customers who patronised the establishment I was able to boast that a handful of them had now come to rely on my expertise as well as Edward's; some even
instead
of; particularly several of the younger clients. This eventually instigated Edward negotiating a couple of welcome pay rises for me from the directors.

Then, completely out of nowhere about six months later, came some even more startling news. He called me to his office.

'We're starting up a small Ready-to-Wear range, Annabel, and I’ve suggested that you should handle the designs for it. What do you say?'

I gawped at him, speechless. Edward looked at me in a slightly bemused way, as he leaned forward on his fabric-strewn desk. 'It'll only be a design range of about thirty garments initially; available in various fabrics and colour-ways. But if it proves successful we're hoping to consider marketing it as concessions in a couple of top stores.’

Still unable to speak I sat down, gulping back my surprise.

'As you and I have often discussed, Annabel, Ready-to-Wear is clearly the way ahead for us now; to give a younger, wider more affordable appeal. Hopefully we can grab a piece of this fast developing market, without losing our exclusivity. Most importantly though, it could be the launching pad you need.'

My head could barely absorb the facts properly, or their implications. I was staggered. Finally I found my voice. 'Oh my God… that's brilliant, Edward! Fabulous! Do you think I'm ready for it though?'

'Come on now, Annabel. You damn well know you are! I mean, haven't you been my right hand girl for the past year now? Anyway, why do you think I've encouraged you so much? It's time you spread your talents further. What better opportunity than this.' He then rose and coming round the desk, laid his hand on my shoulder. 'I'm delighted the Directors are agreeing to give you this chance. For once they've been guided by me over this.'

'I ... I don't know what to say. Thank you so much.'

'Just prove me right, okay?'

'Oh I will, I will,' I said jumping up with excitement.

'So ... how do you like the idea of the label reading something like this -
Miss Courtney - by Annabel Spencer
?' His fingers formed the shape of the label.

'I love it!'

He grinned happily, raising his bushy eyebrows, which always shaded his soft, brown, deep-set eyes. My thoughts suddenly whisked back a couple of years to a talk we'd had in my earlier days working with him, when he'd confided in me a bit about himself and his own humble beginnings.

At the time he'd been expressing his concern about my developing friendship with Vanessa, anxious that I shouldn't become too influenced by ‘her crowd’ as he called it. He'd even caught me on my own one day shortly after Vanessa's party to talk about it. I'd then hastily assured him that he had no need to worry; that I'd not been in the least impressed by those I'd met at her flat that night. Of course, I'd carefully omitted to mention how I'd fallen madly in love with her dishy brother.

A keen follower of Billy Graham, Edward never imposed his thoughts in this vein on any of us. The Evangelist's book,
Peace with God
,
which was always on his desk, was about the only indication to his religious leaning. Also in true Evangelical spirit he was always a good listener and eager to help people whenever he felt the need.

That day he'd taken the opportunity to chat frankly to me, and I'd learned a lot about his thoughts and how he ticked.

'You're simply a breath of fresh air to this place, Annabel; I’d hate to see you change.' Then folding his long arms he'd looked at me earnestly. 'I wasn't going to tell you this, but it's the main reason I chose you for the job.'