Having a Ball (16 page)

* * * *

Stevie scrubbed, trying to get rid of the black spots where muck from the
boards had splashed on her skin. She had abandoned her shoes and decided that
her clothes would have to go in the wash that night. Or the bin. On the other hand,
the boards were nearly done. Once they were dry, they could be hung back up in
the right place.

She smiled at her reflection and retied her hair in a firm knot. Despite the
dirt, she was enjoying the feeling of a job well done.

The tiles in the hall were cool underfoot as she padded back. The doorbell
rang, and she decided to answer it. After all, she knew just about everyone who
came to the house now.

Vienna stood on the doorstep, impossibly elegant in pressed linen
trousers and blue cotton blouse. She pushed her sunglasses to the top of her head.
"Hi. Is Tom in?"

"No."

Vienna looked Stevie up and down. "Can I come in?" she said. "Leave him
a note?"

"Oh yes, of course." Stevie opened the door fully and stepped out of the
way.

There was an antique letter desk in the hall where Evelyn kept the guest
book and a stack of notelets for messages. Stevie gestured toward it. She felt
something more was required of her, she said, "Tom's gone to work. He had a
meeting."

"Oh. I see." Vienna dug a silver pen out of her Lulu Guinness handbag and
started to write. She was wearing blue strappy sandals the exact same shade as her
top, and had sparkly toenails.

Stevie shuffled her bare feet and tried to hide the tidemarks left by the
black dirt. She really needed to do her toes.

"How are the preparations going? Everything under control?" Vienna's
hair fell in a perfect glossy curtain by her face. She pushed it back and continued
writing.

"I think so."

"It must be terribly tiring for you," Vienna folded the note paper and put
her pen away. "Working hard all day." She eyed Stevie's spattered t-shirt. "And then
having to take the bus back to London. Must be exhausting."

"Oh no, I'm staying here for the moment." Stevie crossed her arms.
"Evelyn's kindly let me have one of the rooms."

Vienna's eyebrow went up. "Oh, that's lovely!" When her eyebrows had
returned to their normal place, she looked around the sun-filled hall. "This is
such
a gorgeous house. We used to come and stay here some weekends. I've
got some beautiful memories from back then.

"Of course, it wasn't done up like it is now. Evelyn and Frank have done
wonders with the old place." She smiled, her eyes far away. "We used to have lovely
dinners on a trestle table in the garden, drinking Frank's wine. Frank was Tom's
father."

Her focus returned to Stevie, "He had the most wonderful wine collection.
I suppose it's all gone, now that he's no longer around to collect it."

Was this her way of telling Stevie that she was part of the family? Stevie
decided she really disliked Vienna.

Alice appeared, also barefoot and grimy. "Oh, hi. It's Vienna, isn't it?" She
smiled and pushed her fringe back. "Are you after Uncle Tom? He's out."

"Yes I know. I've left a message." Vienna, lowered her sunglasses. "Well, I
guess I'd better let you get back to whatever you were doing. Tell Tom I'll see him
tomorrow." Vienna gave them both another dazzling smile and left with a waft of
something that smelled delicate and expensive.

Stevie shut the door behind Vienna and fought the urge to stick her
tongue out at it.

"She pees me off," said Alice. "Gran's looking for you."

Stevie frowned. "Any particular reason?"

"Dunno." She put her headphones back in. "I'll come help you finish off in
a minute. I've just got to phone someone." She sauntered off before Stevie could
reply.

* * * *

From: Olivia Gornall

To: Tom Blackwood

How did your 'informal
meeting' go?

##

From: Tom Blackwood

To: Olivia Gornall

Meeting went very well thank
you. I'm on the train home now.
There was some discussion about
the things Dierdre and I had suggested in our presentations, but
mostly, I think it was a personality contest to see which one of us they'd
prefer to work with.
Dierdre may be formidable and sneaky, but
she doesn't have a personality. So, it's all good.

##

From: Olivia Gornall

To: Tom Blackwood

Tom Blackwood! I never
thought I'd hear you being so bitchy. And about a colleague
too!
You should never underestimate that woman. I'm sure she has
hidden wiles.
How did you bear to tear yourself away from the
lovely Stevie for a whole day?

##

From: Tom Blackwood

To: Olivia Gornall

You're right. I probably am
underestimating Dierdre. It wouldn't surprise me if she pulls a sense of
humour out from somewhere, just so that she can dazzle them with
it.
Re: Stevie. I managed fine, thanks.
On the other hand, I've
got a headache again. It must be London that makes me feel ill.
Hopefully, the sunshine in Doha will cure me of that.
:)

* * * *

Stevie went back to cleaning boards. At some point in the afternoon Tom
went past, back from London. She was aware of him before she saw him and felt the
hairs on the back of her neck stand on end.

"Where's Uncle Tom going?" Alice said.

"He's cleaning out the wine cellar, hopefully."

"Good. It won't be just us covered in dust then." Alice returned to her
task.

It didn't take them much longer to finish off the boards. In the library,
Stevie and Alice attached all the lower boards, immediately dimming the room. The
higher boards would require a ladder.

Alice eyed the heavy oak panels dubiously. "They're quite heavy. Might be
better to see if Uncle Tom can help."

Stevie had to admit she was right. The boards were heavy and slotting the
lower ones in had taken considerable effort. To try and lift the upper ones to the
tops of the windows would pose a serious risk of putting their backs out. Perhaps if
she and Tom were to take a side each, it could be done safely.

"Okay, but before we do anything, I think we deserve a break."

"Good idea." Alice pulled her phone out of her pocket. "I'll see you in a bit,
right?"

Stevie smiled. "Right."

In the kitchen, Evelyn and Priya were having tea and eating Sri Lankan
sweets. "Here, try one." Evelyn gave her what looked like a rolled up pancake.

Stevie bit into it. Warm, sweet, coconutty filling flowed into her mouth.
She chewed, letting the flavours mix. "That is heavenly. What is it?"

"Pancakes with cinnamon, coconut and treacle," said Priya. "One of my
favourite things ever. They're best served warm so we'll pop them in the oven
before we set them out."

"Mmmm." Stevie was barely listening as she took another bite.

"How are the boards doing?" Evelyn poured the tea.

"All done. We've fitted the bottom ones. We're going to need Tom's help
with the top ones."

"I'm glad Tom's been here this week," said Evelyn. She absent-mindedly
stirred a tea bag round and round a mug. "It's nice to have a man around the house
again. There are some jobs that are just more suited to the male of the species." She
blinked, as though surprised she'd said anything out loud. She fished out the tea
bag and flicked it into the bin. "I daresay he's been enjoying himself. Could you be a
dear and take a mug of tea for Tom. And one of those pancake things."

Stevie nodded, her mouth full of pancake.

"You can see how the cellar is getting on too."

The door to the cellar was ajar. Stevie knocked before entering carefully,
in case he had put anything by the door. "Tom. I've brought tea and nibbles."

When her eyes adjusted to the dimness, she saw Tom standing on a
stepladder, taping liner to the top shelf. He held the Sellotape in his teeth, making it
impossible for him reply. Rather incongruously, a blue and white feather duster
was sticking out of his jeans pocket.

Stevie grinned. "There's something you don't often see," she said,
knowing he wouldn't be able to reply. "A man with a feather duster."

Tom narrowed his eyes at her and spat the tape out from between his
teeth. "I've dusted the wine rack." He sounded pleased with himself. "So everything
in here is clean now."

Stevie looked round. Everything on the shelves was neatly boxed up and
placed on the floor. The floor had been swept and even the rat poison containers
had been wiped clean. The room smelled of disinfectant. Tom was clearly a
perfectionist in whatever he did. She found herself watching his hands as he
smoothed down the lining paper and taped it. There was not a hint of tremor. They
were big, capable hands. And probably very sensitive. And thorough.

She reminded herself that he was out of bounds. "That's great." She said,
trying to sound like the professional she should be. "Thank you for doing that."

"No problem." He finished the last bit and descended the ladder, giving
Stevie a view of his behind, which was quite nice, despite the feather duster. "Now,
you mentioned tea?"

Stevie held the mug out to him, as though trying to ward him off with it.
With the stepladder in the way, the cellar seemed suddenly very small and he was
now within touching distance. She could see the tiny smudge of dust on his cheek
and smell the antiseptic soap on his hands. She fought the urge to take a step back.
It would never do to let him know she liked him. He had a girlfriend. Oh goodness.
Vienna. She'd forgotten all about that.

"Your girlfriend came round."

Tom's forehead furrowed. "What girl friend? I don't have a
girlfriend."

"Vienna."

"Vienna's just a friend." He gave a small smile. "We're not together."

"Really? You seem pretty together to me." It came out before she'd had
time to think about it. Damn. It sounded like she cared.

Tom took step closer to her. He was so close she could barely breathe.
There was nothing between them but a few inches of air and one hot mug of tea.
She found herself focusing on his mouth. There was a hint of stubble on his cheeks
and chin. She wondered if it would scratch if he kissed her. She forced herself to
look up into blue eyes.

"I told you the other day," he said, softly, "I don't do commitment. All my
relationships are on a strictly casual basis. I have lots of lady friends, but I haven't
had a steady girlfriend in years. I just don't have the time." He took the mug from
her hands, his fingers grazing hers and making her jump and spill some of the tea.
He moved the mug to his other hand and shook the first one. "Ow. That's hot."

"Sorry, sorry." Stevie backed up. "I'll go get you some ice."

"No. I'm fine." He examined his hand. "I'll live."

She practically ran out of the cellar and up the few steps. As Tom bent
over to retrieve the plate with the pancake, she saw him smile, a tiny, knowing
smile. He knew she fancied him. And he'd expected it. The arrogant,
supercilious...

She turned round and stalked back to the kitchen, ignoring him as he
followed her.

When they reached the kitchen the others looked up.

Alice was leaning against a counter. "Uncle Tom, your floozie came
round."

"She's not a floozie," said Tom. "She's a solicitor."

"Oh yeah? Where does she solicit then? King's Cross."

Stevie grabbed her own tea and stormed off before she could hear his
reply. She needed a moment to herself.

From: Tom Blackwood

To: Olivia Gornall

She wants me! I thought she
wasn't interested, but now I can see she is. She wants me.
I can't
do anything about it anyway, but it's still nice to
know.
Tom

##

From: Olivia Gornall

To: Tom Blackwood

What makes you think she
wants you, you arrogant toss pot?

##

From: Tom Blackwood

To: Olivia Gornall

Oh come on, you KNOW when
someone wants you. Don't pretend you don't know what I'm talking
about.

##

From: Olivia Gornall

To: Tom Blackwood

So, she wants you. And you
clearly want her. So what's stopping you?

##

From: Tom Blackwood

To: Olivia Gornall

I told you. She wants
something nice and stable. I can't give it to her. Especially if I'm going
to move to Doha sometime soon.
Why do women insist on wearing
those ridiculous high heels when bare feet are so beautiful... and
thought provoking in the most distracting way?

##

From: Olivia Gornall

To: Tom Blackwood

You've got it bad. I never
thought I'd see the day when I had Tom Blackwood soliloquising about
some girl's bare feet!

##

From: Tom Blackwood

To: Olivia Gornall

I could soliloquise about other
aspects of her too, but, well... not in front of the ladies. Not even
you.

##

From: Olivia Gornall

To: Tom Blackwood

I think I'm going to
hurl.
Olivia - A lady. Apparently.

* * * *

Stevie sat on the top metal step leading into the garden. She could smell a
faint scent of wisteria on the breeze. After a few minutes, she felt the thumping in
her head ebb away, and with it her anger at Tom.