Alberta Clipper (26 page)

You can only stay on a treadmill for so long before your legs begin to give way.  And Christine was beginning to feel very tired.

Mark took a deep breath and pressed his finger to the doorbell.  Behind the coloured glass pane, he could see the shape of a man coming towards him. 

“Mark.  Right on time.  Good to see you.” 
Shay
beamed at him.  Mark held out a bottle of champagne and a huge bouquet of flowers.  “Ah man, you shouldn't have.” 
Shay
sniffed at the flowers.  “And roses are my favourite.”

“Funny.  They're for your lovely wife.”  Mark stepped inside and wiped his feet on the mat
. 
Shay
closed the door behind him.  “Chilly out there.”

“Well, let me take your jacket and go on
inside.  I've a lovely ten-year-
old scotch that will warm you up in no time.” 
Shay
set the bottle and flowers down on the hall table, and took Mark's coat from him.  Mark suddenly felt very nervous.  Christ, he had never done this before.  Come on his own to a dinner party.  He had always been with Jennifer. 
What had he been thinking? 
Everyone here would be with someone.  He'd be the Bridget Jones at the table, with
the other guests
sympathetically trying to include him in their conversations.  He stood rooted to the floor, watching
Shay
's back as it disappeared into the cloakroom. 

“You go on in, Mark,”
Shay
said when he
re-
emerged, nodding towards the sitting room door. 
“I'll just bring the flowers
into t
he chef.  She'll be delighted. 
Oh, Bollinger.”  He looked impressed.  “A Grand An
née. 
I might have to hide that one away for myself.  Cheers, Mark.  I'll just be a sec.”

“Sure, no worries.”  Mark took another deep breath, and followed the sound of voices into the sitting room.  A faint scent of pine mixed with cinnamon met him at the door.  Inside the large, square room the fire was lit, and a tastefully decorated tree stood in the corner, quietly trying to hold on to its needles for just one more week. 
In the middle of the room, a couple of
leather
sofas were set opposite each other
,
either side of
a glass coffee table
.  Three faces Mark didn't recognise looked
up at him
as he entered
.

“Hello,” a glamorous raven-haired woman waved gracefully at him.  The man seated next to her stood and held his hand out to Mark. 

“Robert Whitely.  Next door neighbour,” he grinned.

“Mark Harrington.  I work with
Shay
,” Mark gestured vaguely in the direction of the kitchen.

“Mark.  Good to meet you.  This is Sandra, my wife.”  The dark beauty stayed sitting, but held a hand up to Mark, her golden bracelets jangling as they slipped down her tanned, slender arm.  Mark took her hand, but instantly forgot her name, as something in the corner of his vision caught his attention, and his stomach contracted
involuntarily
.  He turned around, and there she was.

Christine.

She was standing up from her seat on the other couch, taking a step towards him, reaching over, kissing his cheek.  Mark closed his eyes ever so briefly and breathed in her perfume.  She was talking.  What was she saying? 

Just then
Shay
walked into the room.  “Right, so are we all introduced?”

“Not yet,” said a younger looking girl who was perched on the arm of the Whitely's sofa, swinging her leg and smiling greedily at Mark. 

“Okay, well Mark, you know Christine.  This is Robert and Sandra.”  Mark nodded at them.  “They live next door.  This,”
Shay
gestured dramatically at the girl on the sofa arm, “is Laura. 
Nina
's sister.  And Fitz, her boyfriend.”

“Pleased to meet you Mark.”

Mark nodded at her and at the balding, bearded guy seated across from her.

“And this
,”
Shay
gestured to the woman next to Fitz,
“
is Erica, an old school friend of
Nina
's.  Well,”
Shay
flustered, “not an
old
school friend, I mean of course a school friend of old.  From her school days.  You know what I mean.”

“No offence taken
Shay
,” Erica laughed.  “Even if I am old, you will always be older.”

“Good point,” he smiled at her.

“Hello Mark,” she stood and shook Mark's hand which he must have held out, but he couldn't be certain. 
The voice in his head was speaking so fast, he was finding it difficult to keep up. 

She's here.  Don't make an idiot of yourself.  Where's her boyfriend?  He's probably skiing or something.  So why isn't she with him?  Oh Christ.

“Mark?”

“Pardon?”

“I asked if you work in the same office as
Shay
?
”  Erica curled her short blonde hair over her ear.
 
“
Did you know
Nina
when she worked there?”

Mark tried to ignore the voice in his head.

“Yes, yes I did.  I knew them before they were a couple, actually.”

“Wow, it's strange that we've never met before, isn't it?  I've known
Nina
for years.”

Mark swallowed. 
“Yeah, yeah it is.”

“Here you go, get that into you Mark.” 
Shay
handed him a cut crystal tumbler a quarter full with a golden drink.  It smelled of turf and heather.  He had to take it easy tonight.  He could not risk a re-run of the Christmas party while she was here.  But he definitely needed to take the edge off his nerves, so he lifted his glass to
Shay
and Erica in a toast.

“Happy New Year, guys.  Thanks for all of this.”  The whisky burned his lips, and relaxed his thumping heart.  The guy they called Fitz stood up and crossed the room to Laura.  Erica sat back down.  Mark had little choice but to sit in the vacated place between her and Christine. 

“
Nina
will join us shortly,”
Shay
announced.  “She is putting some finishing touches to the main course apparently.”

“I should help her,” Erica stood again.  “Or at least observe the master at work, because I know she won't let me do anything.”  She smiled at them all, and left the room with her glass of champagne.  Mark couldn't help but notice her legs as she walked away.  She had very nice legs.

“So how was your Christmas?”  Christine turned to him, a
nd took a sip from her own flute
.

“Eh, different,” he smiled at her.  “I haven't spent Christmas in Ireland since Mum died.”

“Oh, I'm sorry.  I didn't know she was dead.” 

“Oh, that's okay.  It was three years ago.  And she had been sick a long time.”

Christine nodded into her glass.  “So were you with your Dad for Christmas?”

“No, he's been dead for years.  Actually, it'll be twenty years next summer.”  Mark
was shocked by this fact, even as he spoke the words
.  “It seems like yesterday.”  He noticed Laura looking at him, ostensibly listening to Fitz who was talking about the painting over the fireplace.  He looked back at Christine.  “Wow, sorry.  Depressing subject matter.  Let's start that again.  How was your Christmas?”

“Tell her about your Christmas Day, Mark.”  Shay had clearly been listening to their conversation as he moved around the room, topping up glasses.  “Mark here spent Christmas Day feeding the homeless,”
he
announced
to the room
, ignoring Mark’s glares.

Mark shook his head.  “It was a lot less effort than it sounds,” he said to Christine.  “And it was a first.  The last time I did anything for charity was a sponsored silence in junior school.”

“Maybe so, but it was still a great thing to do.”  Shay was not to be silenced.  “Not many people are willing to give up their Christmas Day to do something like that.”

“Well, as we had established, I wasn’t giving up much.”  Mark turned slightly on the sofa, hoping Shay might take the hint and change the subject.  “So, you were saying?  How was
your Christmas?  Please tell me you had a blast and got massively drunk and ate three dinners.”

Christine laughed.  “Not quite I’m afraid.
I spent my Christmas alone with my Dad.  My mother died five years ago.” 
She
laughed irrationally.  “Sorry, I have the same sob story.” 

Mark sensed
sadness behind the bravado. 

“Actually, I had a really nice day with my Dad.  He's quite the chef.  It was very enjoyable.”

“Good.”

“My sister's abroad, so it was just the two of us.”

“New Zealand.”

“Australia.”

“Yes, right.  Have you been over to her?”

“Not yet.
”  Christine looked down into her glass.
 
“
She's only
been
there three years, and she's been home a couple of times herself.  Maybe next year.”

“You should try swing a trip to the Singapore office and go on from there.  It'd be cheaper.”

“I'm not sure the boss would fall for that one,” she laughed at him over the rim of her glass as she drained it.

Those eyes.
 
“Oh, I'm sure you could convince him.”

Suddenly, the sofa bounced as Erica plonked herself back down beside him.

“Well, we're certainly in for some treats by the looks of things in the kitchen,” she said to them both.

“Great.  I'm starving.  Thanks
Shay
.”  Christine winked at her host as he refilled her drink.

“So you two work together?”  Erica turned slightly in her seat as
Shay
emptied the champagne bottle into her glass.

“Mark is my boss,” Christine answered.  Mark tried not to catch
Shay
's eye.  He wasn't sure if he was in the luckiest position in the world seated between Erica and Christine, or the unluckiest.

“And what do you do?”  Erica was clearly used to working a room. 

“I'm a meteorologist.”

Erica raised an eyebrow.  “At CarltonWachs?  Really?”

“Yeah, well a lot of the bank's investments are affected one way or another by the weather.  Not least oil, and other commodities.  So it's my job to forecast how future weather patterns might impact on our business.”

Mark sat back a little as the conversation continued across him.  He was beginning to feel very warm.  He wanted to remove his sweater, but he found he couldn’t move.

“That is so interesting.
”  Erica sat up a little straighter.
 
“
I studied science
originally
.  I think I would have really enjoyed meteorology.”

“What do you do yourself?”

“I work for a pharmachem company.  It's a Dutch company, but they have two manufacturing plants here.”

“Erica is the MD in Ireland.
” 
Shay
nodded at Mark and Christine. 
“
Don't let her imply that she just works for
those boys.  She runs the show.
”

“
Shay
.”  Erica looked embarrassed.  “I do love it though.  I get to go to The Netherlands a lot, which is great.”

“Erica has a fabulous apartment in Utrecht.”

“
Shay
.   Will you stop.  You sound like you're trying to sell me off.”

“Sorry, sorry.  I'll go and see what's keeping
Nina
.” 
Shay
left his tumbler down on the coffee table.  “You kids alright her
e
for a moment?”

“We'll
be okay,” Robert nodded at him
.

“So, Christine, do you live around here?”  Sandra leaned forward.

“No, I rent an apartment just south of the city,” Christine answered.  “On the seafront.”

“Oh, lovely,” Sandra put her hand on her husband's knee.  “I'm always telling Robert that I'd like to live on the coast.  It must be marvellous to wake up to the sea air every morning.  My parents are Sardinian, I think it's in my blood to be near the sea.”

“But
these are such beautiful houses
,” Erica said.  “And
you have such
nice neighbours.  I can see why you would want to stay.”  The last part was directed at Robert who smiled and put an arm around his wife.