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She felt David’s grip on her hand tighten. There was a frosty silence as they eyed each other.
‘May I take one of these?’ asked Susie, waving a copy of Portico in the air. She sounded so polite, so nervous, that both Brooke and David smiled. It was enough to break the ice.
‘And I’d get Eileen to sign it if I were you,’ said Brooke. ‘It might be worth something one day.’
David stepped over to Matt. ‘I’m David,’ he said extending a hand. ‘Pleased to meet you.’
‘Really?’ replied Matt with a little knowing smile. ‘After the Oracle thing?’
‘Brooke explained. It’s all forgotten,’ said David after a moment, smiling at Susie. ‘Brooke tells me you’re invited to the wedding. Both of you, of course.’
‘Wow, me?’ gasped Susie, holding her hand to her mouth. ‘That’s so kind. I can’t wait.’
‘Yeah, thanks David,’ said Matt, obviously quite taken aback. She stood back and watched them chat, seeing Matt wilt ever so slightly under David’s star power.
She felt David’s hand around her waist, firm and strong. She enjoyed the sensation of him being there, of people watching them together. She turned to Susie and said, ‘I’m so glad we’ve all finally met.’
And it was true. The sense of relief was palpable, almost like a physical release of pressure. But there was something more: a feeling of righteousness that, despite the thoughts and desires, she had not betrayed David’s trust. And now everything was out in the open and in its place. She had an overwhelming sense that things were as they should be.
*
‘Who on earth is that terribly unkempt woman talking to Brooke?’
Meredith had been watching the scene from a distance and did not like the look she had seen pass between her youngest daughter and the man she recognized as Matthew Palmer. She had met him once before, at Parklands many years before, and had predicted back then he would be trouble. The sort of sullen, long–haired boy with no real drive to do anything with his good looks and brains. Although she had been reassured by Tess Garrett that his quote to the Daily Oracle had been taken out of context, Meredith did not like to see him back in her daughter’s life. Well, at least he had a girlfriend with him. Or at least she thought it was a girlfriend, though she looked more like a nuclear disarmament peace protestor who had walked in off the street.
‘I assume we’re talking about Miss Greenpeace,’ said Liz with a sly half–smile. ‘Perhaps it’s a friend. I mean, who knows who Brooke is running around with these days. I met Jessica Johnston the other day; she says the old Spence crowd don’t see anything of Brooke any more.’
Meredith clasped her Hermès Kelly bag close to her body and vowed to quiz Brooke on it later.
‘I think it’s time to go,’ she said, glancing around the room with distaste. ‘Are we having supper? Wasn’t there something you wanted to discuss?’
‘Yes,’ said Liz smiling with anticipation. ‘I thought perhaps we could go to Daniel?’
‘Daniel sounds fine.’
*
A red velvet throne sat invitingly at the back of the room. Tess knew it was a prop, but it looked so wide and soft, like a bed in a department store during a hard afternoon’s shop, that she couldn’t resist sitting in it just for one moment. She took off her shoe and rubbed the arch of her foot as she looked around at the party. Across the room she could see Brooke and David laughing with Matt Palmer. It really was quite uncanny how the two men looked alike. The same height and build; the same dark, good–looking features. Matt Palmer’s eyes were narrower than David’s, his face looked more tired, his clothes not as sharp or expensive looking. In fact, Matt Palmer could be David’s naughtier, cooler big brother.
‘Tess Garrett. How wonderful to see you again.’
She looked up to see an elegant elderly gentleman smiling at her.
‘Charles Devine?’ she smiled.
‘The very same, how could you forget me, darling?’ he said, stooping to kiss her cheek.
It had been six months since Tess had last seen Charles Devine, the eccentric English gossip who had charmed her at Brooke and David’s engagement party. Despite Meredith’s description of him as a silly social butterfly, Tess had barely seen him at any of the recent society functions in New York, leading her to suspect that Charles’s place in the Upper East Side firmament was on the wane.
‘What on earth are you doing here?’ she asked, rising to her feet.
‘I adore books and I adore parties,’ said Charles. ‘Why shouldn’t I be here?’
She couldn’t disagree, but she had a feeling Charles had another reason for coming.
‘Is it pleasure or business tonight?’ she asked.
‘Well, I was actually hoping I might bump into you, darling,’ he said conspiratorially.
