Having a Ball (28 page)

"Um...."

The pause was long enough for Marsh to tell what was wrong. "You had
the dream again, didn't you?"

"Yes."

"Do you want me to come over?"

"Actually, I'm okay for the minute. If you could come over this evening
though..."

"Just a sec." There was a muffled conversation at the other end of the line
before Marsh came back. "Sure. I can come round after work. Are you sure you
don't want to me pop round now?"

"No, I'll be fine." Stevie smiled at the phone, feeling a rush of affection for
her brother. "I'll cook dinner."

"Is that a hint for me to bring pudding?"

"If you like."

* * * *

From: Tom Blackwood < Thomas.Blackwood@
Krantzsolutions.com>
To: Olivia Gornall

It's official. I got
the Doha job!
Just accepted it.

##

From: Olivia Gornall

To:
Tom Blackwood < Thomas.Blackwood@
Krantzsolutions.com>
Congratulations! Drinks are on you at
lunchtime then!
Have you seen Dierdre? She looks like she's
sucked a lemon. Love it.
I guess that's you off to sunnier climes in a
few weeks then.

##

From: Tom Blackwood < Thomas.Blackwood@
Krantzsolutions.com>
To: Olivia Gornall

They want me to
come over next week for a few days to discuss things and look at
accommodation etc. So I guess I'll be leaving for good within a few
weeks of getting back. Now that they've filled the position, they're keen
for things to get started.

##

From: Olivia Gornall

To: Tom
Blackwood < Thomas.Blackwood@
Krantzsolutions.com>
And what are you going to do about
Stevie?

##

From: Tom Blackwood < Thomas.Blackwood@
Krantzsolutions.com>
To: Olivia Gornall

I
don't know. It's been a few days since I last saw her, but I really miss
her. I keep thinking of things to tell her and she's not there. I miss her
being there. It's like she grounded me somehow and now I can't take
off properly again.
I thought about going to see her, but I'm
worried it might make things worse. I've got a chance for a new
beginning. It'll help me forget her and move on. Seeing her again will
only make it harder when it's time to leave.

##

From: Olivia Gornall

To: Tom
Blackwood < Thomas.Blackwood@
Krantzsolutions.com>
Just listen to you, gibbering like an
idiot.
You fell in love with her, you fool. She didn't clip your wings
or whatever else you think. She just let you be yourself, insecurities and
all, and you let your guard down enough to fall in love.
If you run
away from this now, you will regret it forever. Trust me on this one. We
women know about this stuff. Even women like me.

##

From: Tom Blackwood < Thomas.Blackwood@
Krantzsolutions.com>
To: Olivia Gornall

I didn't fall in
love. I just let my guard down for too long. I should have stuck with
Vienna. At least she didn't leave me feeling this terrible mixture of
loneliness and guilt.

##

From: Olivia Gornall

To: Tom
Blackwood < Thomas.Blackwood@
Krantzsolutions.com>
Vienna didn't leave you feeling
anything, other than the need to get your end away. That's the
difference between lust and love.

##

From: Tom Blackwood < Thomas.Blackwood@
Krantzsolutions.com>
To: Olivia Gornall

Okay, you're
starting to scare me now. Who are you and what have you done with
Og?

##

From: Olivia Gornall

To: Tom
Blackwood < Thomas.Blackwood@
Krantzsolutions.com>
Stop pissing around and go see
her.

##

From: Tom Blackwood < Thomas.Blackwood@
Krantzsolutions.com>
To: Olivia Gornall

Okay. Okay. I'll go
see her.
Heaven knows what I'm going to say to her though. It'll
never work out. My job is important to me. I can't give it all up for a girl
I've known for two weeks. Can I?

* * * *

Stevie had lunch with Louise and went over the details of the ball, a sort
of post mortem of what went well and how it could have been better. She came
home, her head buzzing with ideas, to find the light flashing on her answer phone.
Her first thought was that it was Tom.

She sat down next to the phone and stared at it. Did she really want to
hear his voice again? What could he possibly have to say that would make things
better? Her finger hovered over the delete button. Surely it was better to just let it
go and try and get on with things. But she just couldn't bring herself to do it.

A stray hope that perhaps he was missing her as much as she was missing
him made her press the play button. She sat there, hope rising, as it started to
play.

It wasn't Tom. Disappointment seared her. She heard a woman's voice,
but she wasn't listening. Tears prickled. She had been so convinced it was him. It
took her a moment to pull herself together and replay the message.

"Hi Stevie, its Lavinia Cosham. We met at Lady Beryl's charity ball."

Stevie sat up. Lavinia Cosham? She frowned and tried to remember who
that was. Could this be the start of another job?

"I think I mentioned that the Major and I were thinking of having a small
celebration for our wedding anniversary soon. I was wondering if you could come
up here and discuss a few details with us. Perhaps give us a quote."

Stevie grabbed a notebook and pen to write down the number.

But Mrs. Cosham didn't leave one. "I'll speak to you soon," the message
concluded.

Stevie lowered her notebook and stared at the phone. She punched out
1471 to see if she could find the number that way, but the number had been
withheld. Damn. Damn. Damn. Her next potential commission and she didn't have
the number.

"Don't panic, Stevie," she said out loud. "Don't panic."

Evelyn would probably have the Major's contact details. If not, there was
always directory enquiries services. There couldn't be that many Major Coshams in
Oxford.

Of course, speaking to Evelyn would mean she would have to talk about
Tom. Or worse, he could answer the phone. Stevie drummed her fingers on the arm
of the sofa. What should she do?

Deciding that the commission was more important than protecting her
fragile feelings, she called Evelyn.

"Stevie. I'm so glad you called. Tom said you left in a hurry. Is everything
okay?"

"Oh yes, I just...had some things I needed to get on with in London."

"Well, I'm glad you called. We need to sort out your payment."

"I'm preparing an invoice for expenses..."

"And then there's the percentage of the profits," said Evelyn. "You'll be
pleased to hear that it comes to a tidy sum." She named the amount.

"Goodness." Stevie mentally calculated how much original profit that
would have been. "How did we make that much?"

Evelyn chuckled. "I told Lady Beryl about that little man buying a ward
name for his wife and Lady Beryl decided that was just what she needed. So she and
Lord Grayingham are paying for a ward and some equipment."

Stevie laughed. The sum was more than she'd hoped to make. She'd feel
bad taking that away from the kids who needed it. "Tell you what, Evelyn," she said.
"Why don't I invoice you for half of that amount, plus expenses and you can donate
the rest to the charity."

"Are you sure? You earned that money, fair and square. Until you came up
with your marketing scheme we thought we would barely break even."

"I'm sure." If this one event led to more jobs, then it would more than
compensate.

"Oh, and I've had several queries from people about using the house as a
venue for graduation parties and things. Of course, if they need an organiser, I
shan't hesitate to recommend you. After all, you know the house so well now."

Not so well that she didn't get lost and wander into Tom in the middle of
the night...

Stevie squashed that thought. "Actually, Evelyn, that's the main reason
I'm phoning. I had a call from Major Cosham's wife about a possible event, but she
didn't leave her phone number. I was wondering if you have it?"

"Lavinia Cosham? Oh, I'm sure I do have her number. Just a minute."
There was a rustling sound.

Stevie pictured Evelyn sitting in her office rifling through her Rolodex,
under the proud gaze of her late husband.

"Ah yes, here it is." Evelyn read out the number. "I hope that works out
for you. I might see you there, you never know."

"That would be lovely," Stevie said.

"Oh, by the way, did you hear Tom's news?"

At the sound of his name, her heart lurched. "No."

"He's been offered this super job in the Middle East. He's very excited
about it."

So he would be leaving. Soon. "That's great." Stevie tried to sound
enthusiastic, but failed. She concentrated on keeping her voice steady. "Tell him I
said congratulations."

"I'm thinking of cooking dinner again," said Evelyn happily. "Maybe even
open one of those special bottles of wine that Frank laid down when Tom was born.
I was saving it for when he got married or something, but I think this is almost as
good."

"I'm sure he'd like that." Stevie breathed in slowly. "Evelyn, I have to go.
I'll email you soon. Thank you for Mrs. Cosham's phone number. Bye." She hung up
a little too quickly, hoping Evelyn wouldn't notice.

Clutching the notebook, she stared at the window of the flat, not really
seeing it. So that was it. Tom was going to Doha.

If she had ever needed confirmation that he didn't feel the same way she
did, this was it. She had been stupid to fall for him. Marsh had tried to warn her, but
she had been too pig-headed to listen. She was so busy trying to prove she could
make her own decisions that she'd let her heart rule her head and now she was
paying the price.

She looked down at the phone number Evelyn had given her. It
represented a whole new start for her. If this business took off, she could do what
she loved. No more opening envelopes and waiting tables for minimum wage. She
would be busy and fulfilled. And alone.

The photo of her family was lying on the coffee table. She picked it up and
studied the faces of her parents. In all her memories, they had the faces from this
photo. The same fixed smiles. Her mother squinting against the sunlight. Her father
with a crease on his forehead as he worried about the traffic getting home. She
could barely remember them now.

But she remembered the pain. The terrible emptiness they'd left behind.
She was starting to feel it again. It was as though realising that Marsh now had a
family of his own to care for had opened up the wounds she had learned to live
with. And then falling for Tom and losing him had made things worse.

By the time Marsh arrived, she was in tears again. She opened the door to
find her brother standing there with two shopping bags, his suit crumpled from
being in the crowd on the tube and his hair windswept.

There was the briefest pause as he took in her puffy eyes and
tear-smudged make up. In that pause Stevie had a sudden image of her father, tired and
dishevelled marching into her room saying "For heaven's sake Stevie, it's past ten
o'clock. Go to sleep!" It wasn't the face from the photo, but a real living memory of
his beloved face, grumpy but alive. The strength of it made her catch her
breath.

"What's wrong?" Marsh stepped in. He dropped his bags on the floor and
gave her a hug.

She buried her face in his shoulder and squeezed him back. Her ear
pressed against his chest, she could hear his heartbeat, telling her that he, at least,
was still alive. Still there for her when she needed him. She released him and took a
step back. "You know." She managed a watery smile. "The older you get, the more
you look like Dad."

Marsh frowned, confused. "I guess there's worse people to look like. Now,
do you want to tell me what's bothering you?"

"It's a long story. Best sit down. "

"In which case..." Marsh reached into one of his bags. "It's a good job I
picked up this." He pulled out a tub of ice cream. "I wasn't sure how big the crisis
was, so I got the biggest tub of Ben and Jerry's I could find."

She kissed his cheek. "You're the best brother in the world." She plucked
the tub out of his hand. "I'll get a spoon."

She got a bowl and a spoon for him too, but he shook his head. "Jane
keeps buying cold things. She's hot all the time. Our freezer is full of ice lollies. I
don't think I could stomach more ice cream right now."

"You don't have to eat Jane's ice cream."

He gave her a look that told her she had no idea how his marriage
worked.

"Right." She sank into the sofa next to him and dug the spoon straight into
the tub.

"Before you start," said Marsh. "Does this involve Tom Blackwood?"

Stevie grimaced.

Marsh sighed. "Go on."

It all came out in a jumbled, emotional rush. She gave him a fairly garbled
account of the ball, how she had fallen for Tom without ever intending to, how
she'd left. How she felt. When she finished, there was silence. She sniffed, wiped her
eyes and ate another spoonful of ice cream.

"Well," he said, "are you sure about...being in love?"

Stevie shrugged. Having told someone all about it, she was starting to feel
a little better about the whole fiasco. "I didn't think I was. But when Evelyn said he
was going, it was like losing people all over again. It's like there was this place
inside that I never knew existed and now it's crumbling. It hurts. Like,
physically."