Still Thinking of You (16 page)

‘Ah, that’s what you don’t like. They remind you that you aren’t twenty. Because they act their age, they remind you of yours. You resent it.’

Mia glared at Jason, and wondered how it was that he knew her so well. Better than she knew herself at times.

Scaley’s gaze fell in the direction of Tash and Jayne. All thoughts of Kate and Ted disappeared. Jayne had been very flirtatious this afternoon when they’d stumbled into one another in that bar, thought Jason, and she looked so sweet snuggling up with Tash. It was fantastic that they were becoming great friends. Jase allowed himself to feel a bit warm and fuzzy once more. Talking to Jayne in the bar had started him off again.
If
he were to play with the idea of, or at least consider the possibility of… well… maybe… looking to date steadily. Well, then Jayne would be a perfect candidate.
If
he permitted himself, he could easily imagine a scenario where he and Jayne, and Rich and Tash went out for cosy foursome dates or had informal supper parties at his flat. Yeah, he could imagine dating Jayne, Jayne becoming his girlfriend.

He was almost positive that it wasn’t just the drink making him think this way.

It wasn’t just that Jayne was a fox – although, fuck, was she ever a fox. That arse, those tits, those lips. They could have a really good time together. But besides her being one sexy honey – who was clearly coming on to him – she was also a really great person. She’d been so interested in him. She insisted that they’d met two or three times in the past, over the years, at family things of Ted’s, but Jase couldn’t remember talking to her at the various weddings and christenings they’d both attended. He knew himself well enough to know that the reason he couldn’t remember them talking was that he couldn’t remember Jayne looking this good. If he had remembered her as such a honeypot, then he’d have definitely struck up a conversation.

This afternoon she had been so animated, so interested. She’d wanted to know all about how Jase and Rich had met and what stuff they’d got up to over the years. She was a great listener and seemed to find the Jase-and-Rich pulling stories of old just as hilarious as, well, as Jase did. It was also very sweet, the way she asked him about how he thought he’d recognize the One when she came along. Clearly she was fishing for compliments. She might have shrouded the enquiry in a question about how did Rich recognize Tash as the One when Tash came along, but Jase wasn’t stupid. He got the feeling that Jayne really just wanted to talk about him.

Get in there!

When Jason had packed for this holiday he had packed with his usual inimitable style and care. He’d popped six Boxfresh T-shirts into his Hermès travel bag. Alongside his numerous pairs of Diesel and Helmut Lang jeans (different cuts, different shades). He’d also packed three pair of trainers – Diesel and Nike Air Max to hang in, and a pair of Adidas Micropacers to train in (they had that magical little computer chip that measured the distance covered – disappointingly, it was never the distance he hoped). He didn’t pack any of his Armani suits or Patrick Cox loafers, nor his Prada shirts; this gig was casual. He’d known that there wouldn’t even be any strip joints, so he had no need of brogues. He’d packed a pair of Johnny Mokes especially for the wedding ceremony. He was planning on wearing a Dolce and Gabbana shirt and Armand Basi trousers, made to measure, Conduit Street. While playing down his sartorial elegance – after all, he didn’t want to upstage the groom, let alone the bride – his outfit was the right mix of criminally expensive and understated. At the time he’d thought that his attention and deliberation would go unnoticed by anyone important, by which he meant anyone pullable. It was unlikely that the package-holiday ski bunnies would care what he was dressed in. But Jayne would. Now he was glad that he hadn’t let his standards slip.

A vision flashed into Jason’s mind. It was of him and Rich standing at the top of an aisle. He’d had that vision a few times since he’d agreed to be Rich’s best man, even though Rich and Tash hadn’t opted for the traditional church affair. A bolt of fear and excitement shot through Jason’s body. In this imagined scenario, he wasn’t the best man… he was the groom.

Jesus.

He wasn’t saying that he wanted to marry Jayne, for fuck’s sake. It probably was the champagne allowing these fantasies to float into his mind. But were they totally ludicrous?

Yes. They were. Frankly, he’d settle for a shag.

Mia followed Scaley Jase’s gaze. Jason was probably going to have to excuse himself to go and have a wank. She had been struck by the beautiful picture Tash and Jayne made. There was no way Jase was oblivious to it. Mia knew him well enough to know that this was the stuff of his fantasies, a tall blonde and a curvy brunette languishing on the sofa, chatting, giggling, gossiping together. To be fair, the girls probably made up the stuff of most men’s fantasies. The only other more beautiful twosome that sprung to mind was Kylie and Dannii.

Mia squeezed Jase’s leg and winked at him, mouthing the word ‘hot’ as she popped the olive from her drink into her mouth.

Jase laughed, and asked, ‘How is it that you always know what I’m thinking?’

‘Because you’re always thinking the same thing,’ Mia laughed back.

28. Minuscule Talk

Tash didn’t really enjoy dinner. She should have been having a good time. After all, she was staying in the most beautiful hotel she had ever visited,
and
she was eating the most delicious food,
and
she had spent the morning boarding and the afternoon lazing,
and
it was only days until she married the man of her dreams. The problem was she couldn’t help but think that it would have been nicer if they’d been alone in this beautiful hotel and they were having a candlelit meal
à deux
and that she’d spent the day boarding with Rich.

Tash had barely seen Rich all day, as he’d spent it teaching Jase and Mia. She didn’t want to appear selfish – she knew that it was lovely that all of Rich’s friends had joined them to celebrate their wedding. It was, after all, an investment both in terms of their time and of their finances, but… well, she hadn’t asked them, had she? And frankly, she wouldn’t choose to share the planet with Mia, let alone an intimate boutique hotel. And yes, the food was delicious, but the menus were in French and it was far too posh an establishment for them to provide a translation, let alone large plastic menus with green-tinged photographs of the dishes. Tash was extraordinarily grateful that the menu was set, at least she didn’t have to make a choice. She might not have known what she was about to eat, but she didn’t have to admit as much to anyone.

Tash had come to the meal with good intentions. She felt a teeny-weeny bit guilty about the conversation at lunch time, but only a teeny-weeny bit – Mia had provoked her. Tash would have been prepared to call a truce, but clearly Mia wanted blood.

‘Do you understand the menu, Barbie Babe? You mentioned that foreign languages aren’t your forte.’

‘I’m fine, thank you,’ Tash replied, but she couldn’t summon a smile, not even a fake one.

‘I could translate for you,’ offered Mia. Tash doubted she was trying to be helpful. Tash was saved from further embarrassment by the beep-beep of an incoming text message. ‘My God, fancy that. I’ve just got a message from Giles Hewitt-Simpson,’ smiled Mia.

There were smiles around the table and general murmurs about what a good chap Giles was, a great pal.

Here we go, thought Tash, social bingo.

‘How is he? I haven’t seen him since the cricket season finished,’ asked Ted.

‘Bloody marvellous. Says he’s got a promotion and is off stateside in February,’ screeched Mia.

Two fat ladies – eighty-eight.

‘Talking about people going overseas, I got an e-mail from Clara the other week. She’s about to emigrate, too. Hong Kong. Coutt’s couldn’t manage without her,’ said Kate.

Legs eleven.

‘Sadie and Charles are moving to a place in the country, had enough of the smoke,’ added Lloyd, determined not to be left out.

Open the door, forty-four.

‘Samuel has finally proposed to that banker girl. We got an invitation to the wedding. Should be fantastic. Her father is a lord, you know.’

Clickety click, sixty-six.

‘Me, too.’

A duck and a flea, twenty-three.

‘Yes, I did as well. I’m planning on buying a new hat.’

Bingo.

Tash had to remind herself that these were some of the best-educated people in London and that they held down some of the most stimulating jobs available. It was a marvel, then, that their conversation always seemed to focus on catching up on news of people that weren’t even there. Tash wondered if the gang really cared for these people or whether it was a game of social one-upmanship. Either way, she couldn’t join in. She didn’t know Giles or Clara or Samuel or Sadie or any of the people attached to these glamorous names and lives. Tash felt lonely at the end of the table. It was bad luck that she was sat opposite dull Ted and next to dire Mia. Rich was at the other end of the table, in between Lloyd and Jase, and opposite Jayne. Tash would have done anything to swap places. She feared her silence was all the more notable because everyone else seemed to be having a fantastic time. Banter and laughter darted up and down the table faster than Rich got up mountains or Jase got up women.

‘More wine, Barbie Babe? Your glass is empty.’ Was it? Tash was surprised. She must be knocking them back at some rate, rather more hurriedly than steadily, and certainly more hurriedly than advised. Well, it was something to do. ‘You’re drinking white, aren’t you? We need to order some more. Any preference?’ asked Mia.

‘You choose,’ replied Tash.

‘You must have a preference. A Sauvignon blanc, Sémillon, Savagnin, Sylvaner?’

Tash wondered if Mia had listed all the wines beginning with ‘S’ just to confuse her. ‘I really don’t mind.’

‘Perhaps you have a regional preference, rather than a grape? Would it help if I told you which are
les bonnes années
?’

‘Not really,’ shrugged Tash. She just wanted the bottle open and the wine in her glass. In fact, she wanted to fast-forward to the stage where she’d consumed enough not to care about Mia’s snobbery.

‘Mia has a Master’s in wine tasting,’ said Ted.

Tash laughed. ‘A few of my friends could claim the same.’

‘No, I’m serious,’ said Ted. ‘She has a genuine qualification.’

‘Oh, I meant my friends have a genuine problem,’ giggled Tash. Ted didn’t get the joke. He blushed and said that was unfortunate.

Tash noted that Rich wasn’t on his best form either. Despite being at the fun end of the table, he was very quiet. Tash thought that maybe he was missing her as much as she was missing him. She couldn’t reach him physically, so she tried to catch his eye and create quiet moments of intimacy in between the chat and chaos. It was impossible. He stared resolutely at his plate. Had he caught the sun? He was very red. Or perhaps he was flushed with alcohol. God, she longed to kiss him. When Tash kissed Rich, she was sure that he was the perfect partner for her. She forgot that Mia left her feeling grubby and not quite up to scratch.

‘How are you getting on with the boarding?’ Jayne asked Mia. Tash wondered if Jayne was being mischievous. She hoped so. What a pal. Perhaps she’d heard Mia patronizing Tash and was making a point that everyone couldn’t excel at everything. The warm affection Tash already felt for Jayne cranked up a notch or two. ‘Would you call yourself a freestyler or a linderet?’ Jayne pursued. Tash wanted to giggle.

Mia scowled. ‘I haven’t reached the stage of developing a style,’ she admitted.

‘What does that mean, a freestyler or a linderet?’ asked Kate, who was trying to take the spotlight off what was clearly, for Mia, a sore point.

Rich explained, ‘I’m a freestyler, which works well here as Avoriaz is full of natural hits and big air opportunities.’ Kate nodded politely, although she was none the wiser. ‘Jason is likely to become a linderet as soon as he develops a style of his own.’

‘They play a lot, in parks, doing clever tricks,’ said Mia, who, Tash noted, had at least mastered the lingo, if not the toe and heel edges. ‘Linderets spend their time showing off, mostly,’ she added, as though she were already someone’s mother.

‘Still, you have the best teacher I could imagine. I’m sure you’ll be flying down the slopes soon and not just on your bum,’ said Jayne. Tash wanted to kiss her. ‘I’ve learnt such a lot of new moves from Rich, and my general technique has improved no end under his tuition,’ she added with a smile and a wink at Rich. Tash noticed that Rich looked uncomfortable. He wasn’t good at receiving compliments. But wasn’t Jayne a sweetie? She was trying so hard to be nice.

‘When?’ asked Mia.

‘We spent some quality time together this afternoon.’

‘I wouldn’t call it that,’ said Rich.

‘I can’t thank you enough. I’ll never forget it.’ Jayne gazed at Rich.

Rich looked up from his
raiole de foie gras
and glared back at Jayne.

‘Really, it was nothing,’ he said, stonily.

‘It meant a lot to me,’ smiled Jayne.

Poor Rich, you’d think he’d never come across a friendly woman before. He didn’t seem to know how to deal with Jayne. Men are so vain, thought Tash, with an indulgent smile. Patently he thought Jayne fancied him and found it embarrassing. Yet it was obvious to Tash that Jayne was simply being friendly. Jayne had just been ditched, her confidence was at an all-time low. Women often became overly eager to please and be found pleasing at such times. That neediness, plus alcohol, did run the risk that friendliness became borderline flirtiness, but Jayne meant no harm. Tash would explain all of this when she was next alone with Rich. She’d tell him to go easy on Jayne and not to be quite so cutting. If she were ever alone with Rich again, that is. She was beginning to wonder if their wedding night would turn into a gang bang.

When the meal was finally over and everyone had eaten and drunk more than a sensible amount, Jase suggested that they make a move and go to a club. Jayne seconded it and Mia and Lloyd passed the motion. Ted and Kate excused themselves, saying they were in desperate need of an early night.

‘Whey hey, why not take advantage of a childless room?’ smiled Jason.

‘For God’s sake, Scaley, do not judge everyone by your own mucky standards. The most likely thing on their agenda is sleep,’ snapped Mia.

While they bickered, Tash grabbed Rich’s hand and whispered in his ear, ‘Shall we slip away?’

‘And do what exactly?’ he asked, smiling. Clearly Rich was happy to be judged by Jase’s mucky standards.

‘Not that,’ Tash giggled, immediately picking up on his lascivious tones. ‘Well, at least, not right away. I thought we could hire a horse and sleigh, and see the resort at night.’

Rich didn’t hesitate. They made a run for it.