Chapter Thirty-One
Saturday 14th December
Ashleigh – The Picture House Casino, the Marina, Brighton
Ashleigh hadn’t asked Olivier to walk Simon on Saturday because Nan’s friend, Mary, was coming to spend the afternoon and evening with her and had offered to do it. Nan was feeling well enough to move around the house as well, though she was still taking it slowly.
Also, Ash felt like she’d somehow put her foot in it with him yesterday. The moment he’d left, a sinking feeling had overtaken her. They’d gone from snuggling up and being so close to him suddenly needing to go. She couldn’t help thinking it was because she’d opened her big mouth as usual and accidentally insinuated his mum was like hers – which she so obviously wasn’t. Why hadn’t she engaged her brain?
Maybe it was because he was so easy-going all the time, it almost felt impossible to upset him, which of course, wasn’t true. He had feelings like anyone else. He was sweet and sensitive. He had a history as complicated as hers – even if he didn’t make a fuss and go around with a face like he was sucking on a sherbet lemon all the time – it didn’t mean he didn’t have issues.
Fifteen years she’d been waiting for that man to ask her out and within a few days she’d managed to get him to regret it.
But she had to put it behind her because tonight was also Beth’s hen do. The dress was coming along – she’d cut and pinned all the material now. The next job was the scariest. Sewing it all together. At least she could face her friend knowing that she was going to deliver her dress on time for her wedding.
And if Ash was feeling a little out of sorts, that was her problem. This was a once-in-a-lifetime thing (hopefully) for Beth, and so Ashleigh could put on a little black dress and vamp up her make-up to make sure she was ready for a night of dancing and drinking and laughter. Her plan for grabbing Christmas by its tinselling bits and enjoying it had been slightly derailed following Nan’s fall and her mother’s typical AWOL behaviour, but she could get it back on track.
‘You look lovely, Ashleigh,’ her nan’s friend Mary said, when she came down the stairs. ‘Going out somewhere nice? Another date with that nice young man who borrowed my film?’
‘Sorry?’
‘Olivier mentioned yesterday that he wanted to watchIt’s A Wonderful Lifewith you, so I sent him around to Mary’s when he walked Simon,’ Nan explained. ‘He popped over today as well with more food, and took Simon out again. Did I tell you?’
‘No.’ Ashleigh had the urge to scratch her head, but it would have messed up her hair. Maybe hewasn’treally that upset with her?
No. She couldn’t read into that at all. He was just being a decent human being.
‘Oh, thatquichehe’d made and thosepastries. My goodness.’ Mary patted her stomach. ‘Delicious. You snap him up, Ashleigh. A man who can cook is – what do they call it these days? – oh, yes, relationship goals.’
Ashleigh had to laugh. Mary was such a sweetheart. She had a granddaughter who was at university in Brighton and visited her frequently, teaching her new slang and sharing all her programmes and music with her. She kind of wished that she had a relationship with her nan like that…
Quit it, Ashleigh. She had to stop being so doom and gloom. Their situation was different and Nan…well, she was very different to Mary, but Ashleigh loved her as she was.
That feeling snuggled down inside Ash and prompted her to go over to her nan and give her a kiss on the cheek before she went. Nan looked up at her a little shocked; it wasn’t their usual way of saying goodbye. They orbited the house independently – normally calling out to each other was sufficient – but she smiled up at Ash like even if it had been a surprise, it had been a pleasant one.
Ash left the house to a chorus of goodbyes and wishes that she had a lovely time and she walked past Olivier’s house determined that she would. She could worry about what was happening – or not – in her love life another time.
Beth had chosen one of the casino’s down on the marina for her hen do. It was done up in the style of an art deco cinema with plenty of floors above. The first part of the evening was in a private area with all the important women in Beth’s life, from her Granny Caroline who’d flown over from Jamaica for the wedding, to her mother, her aunt and cousins, friends from all walks of her life – college, school, the hotel – and the best friends who Ashleigh had met at the Ivy, and who she realised she was lucky to count herself one of. With so many people crowded around Beth, it reminded Ash of that final scene inIt’s A Wonderful Lifeand she couldn’t help comparing whether any mythical hen do of hers would be so big.
No. It wouldn’t. Although obviously Beth would be there and Romesh and James, then her nan and a couple of her friends who were basically like family. She supposed her mother might make it over. The appeal of taking on the role of ‘Mother of the Bride’ could just swing it if it promised her enough attention.
Ashleigh forced those thoughts out of her head. This was not about her. This was Beth’s night.
As they ate their meal and indulged in wine, the chatter and happiness she could see glowing from her friend was contagious. Some of the older members of the party left after the dessert and Beth led the remaining group upstairs to the casino and the bars.
A marathon of dancing in circles commenced – though they drew the line at putting handbags in the middle. Ash lost herself in the music, focusing on the protective bubble of the friends, the shifting lights and the beat of the music. Whenever a man tried to infiltrate the group, he was rebuffed gently but firmly. Ashleigh felt the weight of her dress spinning around her legs heavily and tried not to remember how it had felt to have Olivier on the dance floor with her. His hands on her hips, his lips on her neck. She didn’t want another man to touch her that way. If she couldn’t have him, it was going to take a long time for her look at anyone else with interest. In fact, when had sheeverlooked at anyone else the same way she looked at him?
She stopped dancing and shook her head. She needed another drink. She was thinking ridiculous thoughts. Over at the bar, she ordered a vodka and jumped when someone touched her waist.
‘Sorry honey.’ Beth’s American friend, Noelle, held up her hands and hopped up onto the bar stool next to her. ‘Just wanted to let you know I was here. You’re so tall, I’m like a hobbit next to you, even in my heels.’
‘I’ve got heels on too.’ Ashleigh pointed down at her toes. She was thankfully too tiddly to notice the effect that wardrobe decision was having on the balls of her feet.
‘Oh, I love that you wear big heels even though you’re tall. No apologies, you own it.’ Noelle held up her hand for a high five and Ashleigh obliged, grinning. ‘I’ve been trying to think who you remind me of… Oh God, what’s her name…’ Noelle snapped her fingers over and over near her head, like she was trying to perform magic to conjure it. ‘Ugh. The one fromGame of Thrones. Sophie Turner! But like, in real life when she’s blonde and looking all rock-chic.’
‘Wow. No. But thank you.’
‘You totally do.’
