Seductive Viennese Whirl (37 page)

"This is Alex." Alex eyes him warily and shakes his hand without enthusiasm.

"Oh Jesus!" Sten says, in the gap of silence at the end of a song. "Thank God you two finally got together. You've no idea what a pain she's been these past few months. It's been Alex this and Alex that. I told her you were gay and that she should cast her net elsewhere, but she's just like my pooch Madison, once he's got a shoe between his teeth you can't prise it loose for love nor money."

I'm standing there frozen to the spot, horrified. "Shut up Sten. Just shut up. Excuse us for a minute," I say to Alex. I drag Sten over to the corner.

"I don't believe you said all that. We are not together."

"Then what's he doing here?"

"We're friends, Sten. Friends."

"You mean the kind of friends who sleep with each other, like Ross and Rachel?"

I wrack my brain for a sitcom analogy he'll understand. "No, more like
Will and Grace
."

"So, he is gay? I knew it. A straight guy would never have been able to carry off that suit."

I sigh. "Actually, he's here because he supplied the wine we had with dinner."

"He's a wine producer? You never said."

"Was. The business went belly up."

"Shame. That Grüner Veltliner might have gone down well at Harvey Nichols." "There you are sweetie," says Henry, just as another tune is starting up. "I've been looking for you all over. And I'm dying for a dance." He yanks Sten away, so that he barely has time to pat my bum, shoo me in Alex's direction and give me a saucy wink.

"You go girl," he bellows, leaving me feeling buoyed with enthusiasm that maybe, just maybe this thing between Alex and me might work out after all.

But when I look at the spot where I left Alex, he's not there.

Okay now, don't panic, I tell myself. When I find him I'll just tell him Sten's trying out a new antidepressant with a verbal diarrhoea side effect. Or something. I'm sure it'll come to me when I see him.

I push through the crowds looking for him, until I run into Eva who introduces me to various friends I never knew she had and I end up having a bunch of inane conversations, all the time craning my neck around the side of their heads. Looking for Alex. Then I get cornered by Sparky and have to endure a long monologue about her wedding plans, and before I know it, it's nearly one in the morning and the more geriatric guests are starting to leave.

I look around and get all panicked because I can't see Alex anywhere. I rush up to Eva, who's dangling in McManus' arms, a little the worse for wear, and ask her if she knows where he is.

"Oh, I think he left, actually," she says, laying her head back on McManus' chest.

I stomp off, tired and pissed of, upstairs to my room. As I put the key in the door I curse Sten and his big bloody mouth.

The first thing I see as I push open the door is a guy's back. He's wearing a dark green bath towel around his waist and his hair's all wet. This is all I need. Eva's probably so inebriated she forgot I was in this room and offered it to another guest.

"Oh hello," the man says, turning around. Nice chest, I think, my mouth hanging open. Oh my God. It's Alex. He regards me coolly. "I think you've got the wrong room."

"No, I slept here last night."

"Ah, that explains the girl's toiletries in the bathroom."

"A bit of a mix up."

He sits down on the bed and picks up his trousers. "I guess I should go and see if Eva can give me another room."

Well go on then, put on your trousers. But he just sits there, staring at me.

I take a deep breath. This is it. My last chance. I'm not going to blow it. Again. "No, wait. Surely we can share a bed, just for one night?"

He smoothes out the trousers, hangs them over a chair. "Well, I guess we could."

Don't sound too keen will you?

I go into the bathroom and clean my teeth. I'm so choked up with excitement I can hardly think straight. When I go back in wearing a t-shirt and pants he's lying under the covers staring at the ceiling. His chest is naked. Oh God. Maybe his whole body is naked. Desperately trying to rein in my imaginings I slip in beside him. Then, without another word he turns off his bedside lamp. I turn off mine. We lie in the dark. That's it then, I think miserably. I'm not relishing the prospect of lying here all night, wide awake. Nor having to face him in the morning. I lie there listening to the throb of the music floating up from upstairs.

"Noisy isn't it?" he says.

"Yup."

A long drawn out silence, punctuated with, "So you can't stop talking about me, huh?"

"What?" Oh God, please can this not be happening. In a split second it's become clear that Alex regards me as an idiot who he's going to have to spend the night with, purely due to force of circumstance.

"Look, I don't know if you noticed, but Sten's just a little bit crazy. I mean, I adore him, of course, but he has this tendency to make things up. It's quite sad really. I've told him to go to a doctor, to try and get a handle on his condition once and for all, but he flat out refuses."

"Shut up."

I sit up in bed and turn towards him. "Excuse me?"

"What do you think I came over for?"

"Well, you were checking on your wine."

"I came to see you."

"Oh," I say, sinking back down under the covers, a great big grin on my face.

"That all you can say?"

My ears feel all tingly and I just know I'm flushing deep crimson. I hold my breath. This can't be happening. This can't be happening. This can't be real. Can it?

And then I feel his mouth against the tender skin on my neck, and I exhale in one long whistling breath.

I'm woken by a siren outside my window. I roll over and look at the clock on the bedside table. 7:14. Glancing over at a sleeping Alex it all comes rushing back. I don't feel tired, which is surprising since we had mind-blowing sex for quite a substantial portion of the night. I stretch my arms above my head, soaking in the rare sensation of being totally satisfied, until my stomach growls. I guess it's my body's way of letting me know that's its baser needs have not yet been fully met. Reluctantly I get up, shower and pull on one of Eva's tracksuits, before going down to the breakfast room. There's a buffet with cheeses and meats and exotic fruits a mile long, plus lots of goodies keeping warm under hotplates. No one is up yet, so I sit down at the massive table, and am tucking into mounds of eggs and bacon when Eva comes in, still wearing her wedding gown. She picks up a piece of toast and while she's yawning and stretching I say, "Where's McManus?"

"He just turned in. I was just about to myself when Lola started hammering on the door." She slathers butter onto the toast and crunches on it. "She'd been in bed with the Weasel when she began to think something might be amiss."

"I know
that
feeling."

She walks around the other side of the table, dragging the unravelled train of her wedding dress behind her. She pours herself some coffee and adds a dash of milk. "Turns out he'd had a rather bad reaction to some trail mix."

"Really? I didn't know he was allergic to peanuts."

Eva rolls her eyes and sips at her coffee. "Not that sort of trail mix. It's that pill made from Viagra and Ecstasy. When his erection lasted for over six hours, Lola started to get worried."

"You're sure you're talking about the Weasel? Six hour erections? You must have got your wires crossed."

"I'm serious. She was beside herself. In the end I phoned for an ambulance."

I start to giggle. "You mean he might lose the use of his tool?"

"It's no laughing matter."

Oh heck, don't tell me Eva's lost her sense of humour since she became Mrs. McManus. "Oh but it is."

She gives a little smile. "I suppose so. Anyway, judging by the grin on your face, no need to ask what happened between you and Alex?"

"It was a set up, right?" I say, spearing a bit of egg on my fork.

She rolls her eyes, picks up her train and flings it over her shoulder. "Don't tell me you're complaining?"

I grin. "Can't say I am."

"I'm pleased for you," she says, giving a big unladylike yawn and trailing out, "'course I am." She stops and spins round at the door. "By the way, you'll be pleased to know that now I'm a respectable married lady I'm going to collect my stuff and move out of the flat - just as soon as I get back from my honeymoon."

"Well, all good things come to an end eventually," I say. Sure, I'd known she would finally move out but I'd tried not to think about it.

"I guess I'll have to look for another flat mate," I said brightly. "Maybe I'll strike gold and find one who can cook."

"Maybe you will. Anyhow, I'm bushed. Right now I've got to get some kip."

I'm finishing off my breakfast when all of a sudden I start to feel like I'm a helium balloon that's just been pricked. As I start to deflate I push my unfinished plate aside, determined to stop this sudden sense of dread that I'm in the grip of. It's not just the fact that Eva has just announced that she's going to remove all visible traces of herself from the flat and my life. There's something else niggling at me too. Padding down the corridor to my room, I can't shake the sense that the dread is connected to something that's taking place today. Something important. If I could only remember what it was.

I hesitate outside the door, suddenly remembering that today is Ben's wedding. Should I go? It would be painful to finally admit that he's left me for good, but also, maybe healthy, to achieve … what is that psychobabble word you're always on about? Closure. It would be good to achieve closure. Or maybe I'd be better off not going. I mean, shit, what if I realize I do still have feelings for him? What then? In the midst of my indecision I push the door open.

When I see Alex, propped up on one elbow, his hair all mussed up, my anxiety dissipates into thin air.

"There you are. I thought you'd just taken your pleasure and cleared off. Just like a
man
."

"Ha, ha, very funny," I say, leaping on top of him and starting to hit him playfully with a pillow. There's soft morning light coming through the blinds, and I feel like I'm in that advert for toilet rolls. You've probably seen it, where a couple is batting each other with pillows, and suddenly all the feathers fly out just in time to rain all over a golden haired puppy who runs in all tangled up in toilet roll.

Then we do some things that no self-respecting advertiser would allow on their screens. And then I do something that no one in their right mind would do after their first night with a new guy. It's the sort of topic
Cosmo
warns you not to talk about until at least the 22nd date. I tell him about Ben.

"We were together four years. I loved him. I was so in love it made me feel sick sometimes. Sometimes I'd see him walking towards me and come over all faint."

"I didn't think love could make you feel sick."

"That's the thing." I shake my head. "I just need to find out whether, whether I was ever in love with him or …."

"Whether you're still in love with him," he finishes for me. I nod. "How did it end? Badly I take it?"

"I found him in bed with his secretary. Now they're getting married. Is there any chance (say no if you want to) is there any way I can persuade you to come to the reception with me?"

"I will if you want me to. In fact, I'd hoped to spend a few days with you, if that's all right."

I sit bolt upright and start babbling. What about your flight? He says he can change it. What about returning the Armani suit? Apparently the matter is no longer of pressing urgency.

I'm leaping out of bed and dressing because I need to find the Haddock. Even though she's on a leave of absence I still have to ask her permission if I want time off. Yes, she's that much of a control freak. I find her in the breakfast room devouring a plate of black pudding. Since it's impossible to be intimidated by someone when they're cramming their face with greasy slices of meat I just come straight out with it.

"You'll probably tell me to shove it, and you'd be well within your rights, but I was wondering if I could have a week off work."

"I don't see why not," she says, swallowing the last forkful and reaching for a chocolate muffin. "You deserve a break."

Beard Man, who's seated beside her, chips in, "I'm not sure you should be eating this much fat and sugar in your condition. How about a starfruit?"

"Oh shut up," she snaps, biting into the muffin.

Maybe because it's the first time I've seen her human side or maybe it's because I'm giddy with happiness, but I actually catch myself thinking, Get off her back, Beard Man.

Now Alex and I are in the back of the Morris Minor, him still in his suit, me in a floaty scarlet Chloé dress that Eva loaned me, flying down the motorway. I don't care that Demetrios is way over the speed limit, or that he's shouting out the window and making obscene hand gestures. I'm just too high.

Because I couldn't be bothered with map reading, Demetrios evidently got a little lost and it's getting on for nine when we reach the Ritz at Piccadilly, where Ben's reception's taking place.

Once I'm about to enter the hotel I start to get nervous. But my nervousness fizzles out as I read a placard informing me that the reception's been moved to The Rat & Parrot, a pub in Baker Street. We take a taxi to the pub and as I lug an overnight bag full of my oil soaked clothes up the stairs I suddenly realize my knees are about to give way. I'm scared. Scared of what I'll feel when I see Ben. It doesn't matter that Alex is a hundred times the man Ben is, or that he's honest and kind and totally gorgeous. Ben's the man I always thought I'd marry, the man I imagined walking down the aisle with a thousand times.

As I push open the door I watch Patsy dance past in a salmon pink dress, cheek to cheek with a guy in a tuxedo that's straining over his stomach.

A couple of dozen guests stand around, apparently unaffected by the depressing spectacle of brown stained carpet, beige flock wallpaper and shrivelled balloons someone's sellotaped to the ceiling.