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“Mind if I join you? I’m Archie,” he said giving Kate a smile that showed several gold teeth.
“I’m Kate, pleased to meet you.”
As soon as he let go of her hand, Kate wiped it discretely on her pashmina, praying he didn’t notice. Not only was his handshake limp as a dead fish, his skin felt like he’d recently dipped it in a bottle of olive oil.
“Nice to see you Archie, it’s been a while.” Kate was grateful to have Trevor by her side.
“Good to see you too, mate, business going well?”
“Good as can be expected.”
“What is it you do?” Kate asked Trevor, but was drowned out as Archie began a lengthy monologue about his used car business. Kate had a passing interest in cars, but none that could sustain her interest in the ins and outs of Archie’s business for longer than a minute. It didn’t help that she could only catch his every other word above the din. She hoped she was nodding and smiling in the right places.
The sound of a gong broke through the chatter, and everyone began scrambling towards the door.
“Time for dinner,” called Trevor over his shoulder. “Have to hurry if you want a good seat.”
Before she could move, Kate was pushed out of the way by a large lady in a very small dress. Kate pressed herself against the wall, watching the hoards as they rushed towards their roast turkey. She’d be too late for a good seat by now, so may as well wait till the danger of being crushed passed. It was amusing to watch the women tottering along on ridiculous heels and Kate felt reassured that she was in no way overdressed. Well, only in the sense that unlike ninety percent of the female attendants, she didn’t have her boobs or bum on show.
“Madam, could you please take your seat in the dining hall,” asked a harassed looking waiter as he swept past carrying a tray of champagne flutes.
“Yes, sure, I was just waiting for the scrum to die down.”
The waiter nodded politely and Kate made her way out of the bar. Despite the waiter’s wishes, she took a moment to step outside. The cold air hit with a welcome force, the quiet night reviving after the deafening noise inside. Perhaps she hadn’t been missing anything all these years after all. What a lot of effort it was to spend an evening with strangers, drinking cheap booze and eating dry turkey.
Kate took one last, long breath of fresh air before heading towards the dining hall. She walked into a wall of noise and heat, her nose filling with cheap aftershave, sweat, and an undertone of perfume. Despite her reservations, the hall was magnificent. A double height room built of solid stone, the walls were decorated with greenery, fairy lights peeking out of twisting ivy, glass jars glowing with tea lights. It was a breath-taking sight, made all the more impressive by the amount of people they’d managed to cram into it.
Walking through the rows of long tables was something of an assault course. By the time Kate found her table, she’d tripped over a chair leg, had a glass of champagne tipped down her front, and been trodden on by a stray stiletto. Her heart sank as she saw the only chair free on Bob’s table was next to her new friend Archie. Bob was in the centre of the table. He looked up as Kate approached, cocked his head to the two women on either side of him, and grimaced. Kate tipped her head towards the only free chair and met his grimace with one of her own. She wandered to the end of the table and slid back the chair beside Archie, who began engaging her in his used car spiel before she’d had the chance to sit down. It looked as though it was going to be a long night.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
ON THE BRIGHTside, thought Kate, the food was delicious. It was a shame everything else about the evening was like pulling teeth. It took an age for the waiters to serve hundreds of guests, meaning Kate drank far more than she usually would on an empty stomach. Rather than getting her into the party spirit, the alcohol made her sleepy.
As Archie droned on, Kate tried every trick in the book to stay awake. She checked her watch under the table, pinching the skin on her hand as she went. Good, that little jolt would keep her eyes open a while longer. Twenty minutes. That was how long Archie had been running through his company finances with her. There must be some people who could make accounts sound interesting, but Archie’s voice was as boring as his subject matter. He spoke in a high-pitched monotone, and sounded like he either had a cold, or a peg attached to his nose.
“You know, Kate, the thing about profit margins is…”
Kate dug the heel of her right foot into the shin of her left leg, the jolt of pain buying her a few more minutes of consciousness.
“And as I tell me customers…”
With Archie distracted by the spreadsheet he was drawing on a napkin, Kate took a piece of ice from her glass and held it to her neck. Her skin pricked with goose bumps and she calculated the cold spell should keep her awake for a good five minutes.
“It really is a car eat car world out there, Kate.”
Kate threw her head back and let out a raucous laugh. It made Archie jump, but it bought her another few minutes and he seemed grateful she found him funny.
“Finally,” she muttered as the waiters reached her table with desserts.
“I see you went for the warm chocolate brownie,” said Archie, leaning over her pudding and giving it a sniff. “Safe choice. Very safe choice.”
“Um, OK. And how about you?”
At that moment, a waiter laid a delicate pot of creme brulee in front of Archie. “As you can see, Kate, my tastes are more exotic.” To emphasise this, his eyebrows wiggled in her direction. “Yes,acrema bruleyaas they say in Italy. Classic Italian dish this. I should know. Did I tell you my great grandfather was Italian?”
Yes, thought Kate,you did. She refrained from pointing out the dish he was eating was a French classic. “So, have you visited Italy much?”
“No, but I’ve seen lots of photos.”
