Having a Ball (11 page)

"Um... both, I believe."

"Okay. Thank you for all the information you've given me, I'll have to get
back to you."

"So, is Pete going to be coming then?"

"Like I said, we'll get back to you. Thanks. Bye." The woman hung up.

Stevie disconnected the call and stared at the phone. She hadn't even
tried phoning any magazines and press, apart from the local ones. Oh dear.

Picking up her notebook she flicked through until she found the number
of
Cause Celeb
. Marsh would kill her if she contacted them. But in her panic,
she'd just told Pete's publicist that they would be there. Sighing, she dialled the
number.

"
Cause Celeb
."

"Hi, I'm phoning to tell you about a charity ball in Ox--"

"I'm afraid we're mostly interested in celebrity sightings and events that
involve celebrities..."

"Yes, that's why I'm phoning. Pete Gosling is going to be coming. He
endorses the charity and the work they do."

"Pete Gosling? From Triphoppers?"

"Yes. That's him."

"Is Ashby going to be there?"

"At the moment, it's just Pete, but you never know, Ashby might come
round to it."

"Can you give me dates and times and I'll see what we can do," said the
girl.

Stevie gave her the information.

Phew.
That had been easier than she'd thought. Now she just
needed the Triphopper's publicist to agree to send Pete along and she'd be well
away.

* * * *

From:
To:

Hi
Jane
How are you? Still enjoying married life?
Things remain
much the same for me. Life has got a little less rock and roll for the
moment, but there's a comeback tour being planned, so I guess things
will hot up soon. In the meantime, I've been doing more songwriting.
I've even got one of my songs coming out soon, sung by last year's
X-Factor winner. Not so glam being the writer behind the song, but the
money's welcome!
Are you going to this charity ball that your sister
in law is organising? My PR department are thinking of getting me
tickets. They're trying to persuade Ashby to go, but I doubt he
will.
Apparently,
Cause Celeb
are covering it, so it would be a
good photo op. They were under the impression that you would be
there. It would be nice to see you, if you are going. Of course, it will be
nice to see Stevie too. She was quite an interesting girl from what I
remember from your wedding.
Give my best to Marsh. See you soon,
hopefully.
Pete

##

From:
To:

Hi Pete
It's great to hear
from you.
No, we won't be going to the ball that Stevie's organising.
I'm sorry to hear she's been badgering your press office. I hope it doesn't
inconvenience you terribly.
You should come for dinner one night.
We can catch up properly then.
Love
Jane

Ever since her drive up to Oxford in his car, Stevie's feelings toward Tom
had been oscillating. On the one hand, he was arrogant and treated her like she was
young and incompetent. On the other hand, once he let his guard down, he could be
quite nice. He was undeniably handsome in a way that made her stomach tingle
every time she saw him.

She had felt that way about men before. They had all ended up being
unsuitable for her. Her last serious boyfriend, Buzz, had been the sexiest man in the
world, but he turned out to be a money-grabbing ratfink. Since then, she'd had a
string of hot, but not serious boyfriends, which worked out fine, so long as neither
party wanted more. The trouble was, now that she was out of the university
environment and trying to be a grown up, the idea of a fling no longer held as much
appeal.

She was standing by her bed, with a bag open in front of her, trying to
pack for a week away in Oxford. It was difficult knowing what to pack. She was
there to work, so comfortable old clothes were a good idea.

Stevie sighed again and scanned the flat. Even though the summer sun
was starting to fade, the building was still warm. If the weather continued to be this
good for the ball, it would be lovely.

She chucked a few light blouses in on top of her jeans. It could get quite
hot if she ended up helping in the garden. Or even the kitchen. And she looked good
in them. Of course, she wasn't interested seriously interested in Tom. But it didn't
hurt to look nice. It could do wonders for her self-confidence.

She was carefully folding her gown, bought in the days when her trust
fund had been worth something, when someone thundered on the door.

"I wonder who that could be," she said to the postcard of Indiana Jones,
and went to the door. Through the spy hole she could see Marsh. Scowling.

"Marsh." She opened the door. She hadn't seen him since she made him
give his keys back.

Marsh strode in and swung round to face her. "What are you playing at
Stevie? Are you deliberately trying to upset Jane?"

"Nice to see you too, Marsh." Stevie shut the door. "What are you talking
about?"

"
Cause Celeb
." Marsh folded his arms and glared at her.
Challenging her to deny it. "You contacted
Cause Celeb
."

Stevie tried to keep her face from looking guilty. "It's only stuff to do with
the ball. Nothing to do with Jane."

"Really? Pete emailed her and told her that you mentioned her name in
order to get your email past the front door."

"Well, yes. She didn't give me Pete's email, so I thought I'd use my
initiative."

"You know how much Jane hates being involved in the press. She's very
fragile at the moment. Imagine if they came after her again. She's feeling delicate
and ill and not sleeping. Imagine what it could do to her?"

Despite having had similar thoughts herself, Stevie wasn't going to admit
that sort of thing to her brother. Especially if he didn't feel he could tell her about
her future niece or nephew until after he'd told their friends. "Oh yeah? What
makes you think she'll have any trouble? It's years since she went out with Ashby.
She's happily married now and pregnant. Do you really think the press will be the
slightest bit interested in her? Get real!"

Marsh's lips parted, but no sound came out. He stared at her as though
too stunned to speak. Stevie closed her eyes and stifled a groan. Marsh adored his
wife. She had managed to make it sound as though she was accusing Jane of being
unattractive and uninteresting. She opened her eyes again to find Marsh turning to
leave. She grabbed his arm.

"I'm sorry," she said. "I didn't mean that. I meant... I meant that Jane's
been out of the limelight for a few years now. The press won't be interested. They
didn't even cover your wedding. I honestly think she's safe now."

Marsh didn't turn round. "And what if you're wrong."

"Then I did a terrible thing and I totally deserve it if you never speak to
me again."

He sniffed, part disbelieving, part amused. "You never cease to amaze
me." He turned to face her. "You just do stuff without thinking."

Stevie relaxed, relieved to be on familiar ground. "And you think about
everything, but don't
do
very much."

"Yes, well it works for me."

They stood in silence for a minute as the argument simmered down
inside.

"So, how's the ball organising going?" Marsh straightened his sleeve,
avoiding eye contract. They had argued enough over the years for Stevie to know
that this was a peace offering. He was trying to make small talk while he calmed
down. Eventually they would part and tomorrow they'd both feel sorry and peace
would return. All she had to do was keep up the conversation and not needle him
and everything would be okay.

"It's going okay, actually. It's hard work though."

Stevie wondered if he knew whom she was working for. Given his
interaction with Tom in the past, it was probably best to steer clear of that topic
too.

"There's only a week to go. I'm going to stay over there for the next few
days, so that I don't have to keep bussing it up from London every day. Evelyn
wants to open the place up as a B&B, so they've got plenty of rooms available."
She pointed to the bag that had clothes poking out of it. "I'm in the middle of
packing."

"That's a good idea. It means you'll be a lot less tired too. Do you want me
to give you a lift up there?"

"Oh, no need," said Stevie. "Tom's picking me up in a bit." Immediately as
she said it, she knew she'd slipped up. She bit her lip and hoped Marsh wouldn't
pick up on it.

But her brother knew her better than she'd realised. Her slight hesitation
gave her away. He raised an eyebrow. "Tom?" he said. A small smile appeared. "Tell
me about this Tom."

"Oh, he's not important," she said, in what she hoped was a nonchalant
tone. "He's Evelyn's son. He works in the city and is giving me a lift in his car, which
now smells of curry since he took the ingredients for the food up to Oxford."

Marsh was watching her intently. "Stevie," he said. "What is it that you're
not telling me?"

Damn. She should have looked him in the eye. Stared him out. Damn.
"Nothing. Why?"

"Come on. I know when you're being cagey."

That was true. He did always know when she was hiding something, just
like she normally knew when he was. She'd always thought it was her superior
intuitive powers. Perhaps it was just a side effect of growing up with your brother
as your best friend and guardian rolled into one. "I don't know what you
mean."

Marsh thought for a moment and then shrugged. "If you say so. I guess
you're entitled to a few secrets."

Just like you feel entitled to yours
. "Yes. Actually, I am."

There was another silence.

"How's Jane?"

"She's okay. She's starting to show now. It's not too obvious yet, but she's
definitely getting a tum."

"She'll probably have a tiny designer bump," said Stevie. "Has she
stopped feeling sick?"

"Yes, that's much better now, which is a relief."

"Good."

More silence. Stevie shifted her weight. "Listen, Marsh. I've got to finish
packing and do some stuff..."

"Right. I guess I should be getting back too," said Marsh. "Look, I'm sorry I
flew off the handle"

"And I'm sorry I brought Jane up again with the press."

"Please don't do it again. She really was very upset."

Stevie nodded. Marsh put his hand on the door. "By the way," he said.
"What's does Evelyn do? Lou said she was an academic."

"She is. And quite a good one, by the sound of it. She's giving a lecture
that's going to be taped for Radio 4. That's why she needed to get someone to take
over the ball work."

"Sounds interesting. What's the full name? I'll have to listen out for
it."

"Evelyn Blackwood."

Marsh froze in the act of opening the door. "Blackwood?" Slowly, he shut
the door again. He turned round. "Tom. Blackwood?"

Damn. Damn. Damn.

"What about him?"

"The same Tom Blackwood that I was at uni with?"

Stevie shrugged.

"Stevie, are you out of your mind?"

"What? He's my employer's son. So?"

"SO? Don't act all innocent with me, Stevie. You fancy him. I can tell from
the way you talked about him. Don't you remember what happened the last time
you met? He got you stoned. You were only thirteen."

"Exactly. I was only thirteen. In case you hadn't realised, I've grown up a
bit since then." She turned away. "Besides, it wasn't him that got me stoned. It was
Jeremy the spliff."

"That's immaterial. He shouldn't have let you have anything in his room.
He was an adult. You were a child. It was irresponsible and ..."

"But I'm
not a child anymore
!" Stevie stamped a foot and
immediately realised how childish that seemed. "I'm twenty-two, Marsh. Old
enough to make my own decisions. Even my own mistakes. You don't get to tell me
what to do anymore."

"You're going to get hurt. That's what Tom does. He uses women and
then drops them. It's what he's always done. He's not good boyfriend
material."

"You don't think anyone's good boyfriend material for me. Just because
you don't want to take any risks doesn't mean I have to live like that too. I want to
do things
my
way. So you can bloody well take your advice and shove it up
your anally retentive arse."

There was a stunned silence from Marsh. He glared at her. She glared
back.

"Fine," he said, icily. "Be like that. Throw yourself at Tom. Don't expect
sympathy when he spits you out like a worthless piece of rubbish. I warned you. It's
not my fault you're too pig headed to listen."

"Oh spare me the holier than thou speech."

Marsh's lips tightened. He turned to leave.

"It's a good job you're having a child," Stevie shouted at his back. "That
way you'll finally have someone else to stifle."

Marsh paused, but didn't turn round. Without a word, he left, slamming
the door behind him.

Stevie stared at the door for a moment then stamped her foot again.
Spinning round, she grabbed a cushion and threw it across the flat at the postcard
of Indiana Jones. It hit the board hard enough to dislodge the push pin. Both
Indiana Jones and the photo of her family slid to the ground. Stevie sank into the
sofa and started to cry.

She was still crying when Tom phoned to say he was downstairs. Stevie
managed to control her voice enough to say "I'll be right down."

She dashed into the bathroom and washed the tears off her face. Her bag
was only half packed, so she shoved handfuls of underwear and her toothbrush in.
At least she knew her clothes for the ball were good to go. She looked down at the
light summer dress she was wearing. She had intended to change into jeans and
t-shirt, but there was no longer enough time. Sighing, she stuffed those into her bag
too and zipped it shut. Tearing round the flat, she closed windows and made sure
things were locked and ready to be left for a week before grabbing her stuff and
pelting downstairs.