She gives up. “How are you enjoying being on the road?”
A loud ringing interrupts his reply. Almost everyone in the bar checks their phone but it is John who answers, “’Right, mate?”
If Anna expects him to rise and leave the bar to take his call, she is disappointed. He sits at the table, supplying desultory comments to his caller and to the rest of the bar. John is clearly one of those people whose voice, already loud, increases in volume when on the phone. It makes it impossible for anyone around him to continue a conversation until he has finished. Neither is his call of such great interest that all others are keen to eavesdrop. When he ends it, he looks around and explains. “My mate, Timmo. We’re trying to arrange a meetup while he’s over here.” It’s a needless explanation. The entire bar has long worked out the purpose of the call. Then he adds the irrelevant detail, “Timmo’s dad is a Sir.”
“Anna’s dad is a baron,” Bella drops the bomb.
“I didn’t know that!” James exclaims.
And John turns to look at her with new appreciation in his eyes.
It is not something Anna advertises. At school, she was not alone in having a noble parent. It never occurred to her it was remarkable. But not long into university, she began to understand other people’s reactions. Some were impressed, some envious. But almost all immediately assumed she was at a top London medical school because of who her father was, not who she was. It was not long into her first term before she began actively obscuring her background. Unfortunately, her acquaintance with Bella pre-dates that point. Bella is oneof the few who knows of her family and has indeed met her mother and father. When they took Anna to move into her university accommodation, they happily introduced themselves to any available roommates in their usual genial fashion, “Baron Larkford”, accompanied by a firm handshake, and “Lady Larkford”, with the barest touch of flesh.
Anna shrugs. “Why would you?”
“Do you live in a castle?” John asks.
“No,” says Anna. “I live in a garret in London.”
But Bella answers for her. “It’s not a castle but it’s massive. I’ve seen pictures.” On the internet maybe, because Anna hasn’t shown Bella any. Like most students, Anna had had family photos scattered around but they tended to be from holidays abroad and ski trips.
“I don’t live there,” Anna says, desperate to head off speculation about her family home. “I live in London.”
“In her family’s London house,” Bella elucidates. Anna regrets how unguarded her tongue was in her younger days. Bella knows far too much about her family.
“Does that mean you are a ‘Lady’?” James asks, obviously trying to work out the ramifications of this news.
“No, I’m a ‘doctor’,” Anna replies at the same time as Bella says, “No, she’s an ‘honourable’. The Honourable Anna Mortimer.”
Something strange is happening to John’s face. The look of sneering civility he used towards Anna when he was talking about his friend Timmo is being replaced. He almost looks genial.
He turns to her. “Maybe we know some of the same people?” he says.
“I doubt it,” Anna mutters. “Bella and I only have mutual friends from uni. We don’t have any of the same school friends.”
“Oh!” John ejaculates. “Bella and I didn’t go to the same school.” He names his alma mater with quite evident pride, but it is a school Anna has never heard of. She is familiar with most of the leading private schools and even some of the lower ranked through sports fixtures or extracurricular clubs. She nods pleasantly to John and holds her tongue. Help comes unexpectedly from James, who to Anna’s certain knowledge is one hundred per cent state school educated. He obviously has zero interest in any conversation beginning,Do you know … ?
“You were about to tell us of your travels before you were interrupted,” James brings the conversation back on track.
John leans back in his chair, seemingly spreading himself wider. “Well,” he starts. “I’ll tell you about what happened to me in New York.” He embarks on an immensely detailed and long-winded anecdote in which he single-handedly saved a handful of celebrities from some or other ignominious fate. Anna is unclear about the details as she drifts off a couple of minutes in, her eye caught by the bartender mixing cocktails. James and Bella appear to have maintained focus, full of compliments for John’s quick thinking. As John finally reaches the end of his story, Anna adds her own, “Amazing,” trusting that John isn’t clever enough to distinguish the ambiguity of the word.
John disappears to the restroom as James goes to the bar for more drinks. Bella leans towards Anna. “When I arranged for John to come here, I didn’t realise I was going to meet James. I love my brother, but he keeps trying to butt into our time together. He even crashed last night’s date. James and I have so little time before we have to go back to different ends of the country. Do me a favour and keep him occupied tonight?” She opens her big amber eyes wide. “Please?”
Although the eyes don’t work as well on Anna as they do on men, she does find herself sighing in agreement. She had been considering ducking out of the evening and going to bed early inorder to avoid any more of John. But Bella is a friend and so is James. They deserve their shot at love, unexpected though the affair is. She can endure John for one night. How bad can it get?
When John returns and sits next to her, somehow his chair moves so his leg is rubbing against hers. Trapped in a corner, she has nowhere to go. Normally, she would simply knock his knee out of the way, but mindful of her recent promise to his sister, she merely tries to shrink a little. Never has a round of drinks dragged so. Anna is soon regretting her promise, particularly when Bella focuses her attention on James and John turns his to Anna. She can anticipate it’s going to be a long night.
In the Heat of the Night
“Where are we going?” James asks.
“It’s a surprise. It wouldn’t be much of one if I told you now.” Bella bites her bottom lip like a child about to open the biggest Christmas present.
The car they are in pulls up to the kerb outside an office block.
“I’m not nearly drunk enough for this.” Anna looks at the sign saying “Karaoke”.
As they push through the door, she is met with the smell of fried Mexican food underlaid with the scent of hot, slightly sweaty bodies, the air-conditioning struggling to keep up with the heat. She dreads to think what this place would be like at weekends, although it’s pretty full for a mid-week night. The décor is dark wood and exposed brick, the lighting dim apart from the stage.
