Never Mind The Botox: Rachel (10 page)

‘If I had a wife like that, I’d never be home either,’ said Harry. ‘I’d just stay in the office all day eating bacon sandwiches.’

They all laughed and Rachel was pleased that Harry seemed relaxed.

There was then a loud knocking noise.

‘Ladies and gentleman, dinner is served,’ bellowed a small, rotund man standing in the doorway to the Rose Room.

‘Great, I’m starving,’ said Rowan. They found their places on the seating plan and went into the Great Hall. Huge chandeliers hung above circular tables decorated with crisp, white tablecloths and strikingly tall red roses. A string quartet was playing soft, lilting music.

‘See you after dinner,’ Rowan said to Rachel and he squeezed her arm as if to say good luck.

Rachel and Harry found their table, which they were sharing with three other couples. Marcus, Simon and Louise were all from her department and here with their other halves, none of whom she knew. She and Marcus were the most senior people. Much to Rachel’s relief there were no partners on her table.

Rachel could see Rowan and Shali’s table from where she was sitting and Rowan was busy walking round shaking hands with the other people on his table. He’s so polite, thought Rachel. By contrast, Harry had sat down already and was studying the menu.

‘Thank fuck for that! It’s lamb,’ said Harry to no one in particular.

The others looked slightly shocked.

‘Oh, shall we do introductions?’ said Rachel quickly. ‘This is Harry. He’s my, er, partner.’ Boyfriend somehow sounded a bit tacky all of a sudden.

‘Hi,’ said Harry, raising his hand like he was answering a question at school but without actually looking up from the menu.

Marcus followed Rachel. ‘Good evening, everyone. I’m Marcus and this is my wife Melissa.’

Rachel paid close attention as they all introduced themselves, repeating their names in an effort to remember them all. Good networking practice. Harry focused, instead, on pouring the wine, his glass first.

To Rachel’s relief, dinner was relatively uneventful. Marcus’ wife fortunately asked Harry what he did, giving him the opportunity to exaggerate and show off at the same time, two of his favourite pastimes. But he didn’t offend anyone and the stories he entertained the table with were just about decent.

After dinner the disco began playing and people started to move about between tables.

‘Come on, let’s mingle,’ said Rachel.

They went and found Shali and Rowan who were chatting at the bar in the Great Hall.

‘Rowan, why don’t you stay with Harry for a bit while Shali and I do the work rounds,’ said Rachel.

‘Great plan,’ said Harry, turning to order at the bar. ‘Large scotch, no ice. Rowan, what are you drinking?’

‘Your brother’s a good laugh,’ said Shali as they walked away.

‘Yes, and he’s married, don’t forget,’ said Rachel.

‘I know, calm down. I’m just saying he’s great company,’ said Shali.

‘Yes, you’re right, he is. Look, catch you in a bit − I’m off to chat to a few people.’

Rachel circulated around the room, making sure she said hello to most of the partners and anyone else she felt was important. Harry had started off drinking at the bar with Rowan, but the last time she’d looked over he was talking to Paul from the post room. Harry had a habit of making new best friends at this sort of event, particularly those who hung out at the bar and liked sport. Paul fitted the bill perfectly. She could see them drinking and laughing and was slightly concerned that things might get a bit out of hand, but at least it left her free to chat.

‘Hello, Rachel, are you having fun?’

Rachel turned round. It was Carl Stephens and his wife. Rachel composed herself.

‘Hello, Carl, and you must be Sarah, very nice to meet you.’ Rachel held her hand out to an attractive but unremarkable woman in a flowery dress with short dark hair that feathered around her face.

‘Hello, are you in Carl’s team?’ Sarah seemed genuinely interested.

‘Yes, I am. We’re working on a project together at the moment, so he’s keeping my nose well and truly to the grindstone.’

Sarah laughed. ‘Don’t you listen to him. He’s a right old softie underneath.’

Carl looked slightly uncomfortable and was about to reply when Rowan walked past them. Rachel grabbed him, pleased to be able to change the subject.

‘Carl, can I introduce you to my brother, Rowan. He’s here as Shali’s guest. Rowan, this is Carl Stephens. He’s one of the partners in my office.’

‘Ah yes, so he is, pleased to make your acquaintance, Mr Stephens.’ Rowan was slurring his words as he spoke. ‘Sorry if I seem a bit drunk,’ he continued. ‘That’s because I am. Haven’t been out that much lately − you know, new baby and all that. Seems I’ve turned into a bit of a cheap date in the meantime.’

‘How lovely, a new baby. Is it your first?’ Sarah asked.

‘Yes, well, that I know about anyway!’ Rowan laughed and tried to punch Sarah on the arm but missed and stumbled sideways a bit. ‘Sorry, think I better carry on my journey to the gents’ before I fall over completely. Very nice to meet you. And try not to spend too much time in hotel bars now, will you, Carl, hey?’

Rowan winked clumsily at Carl and wandered away in the direction of the gents’.

Carl looked shocked and Rachel was both mortified and speechless at the same time.

‘What did he mean by that?’ Sarah asked.

‘I have no idea,’ answered Carl. ‘Rachel, it seems that your brother can’t take his drink.’

‘I’m so sorry,’ said Rachel. ‘He’s not normally like that at all. I think he’s just a bit worn out by his new baby and a bit out of practice as he hasn’t been going out much for the last few months. I’ll make sure he doesn’t have any more.’

‘Yes, you do that,’ said Carl and spun away to talk to another group of people.

Rachel marched over to Harry at the bar.

‘What on earth have you done to Rowan? He can hardly stand up!’ Rachel said.

‘I haven’t done anything. We’ve just been having a very nice evening, as instructed,’ said Harry. ‘Rachel, meet Paul. Other than being a Reds fan he’s a great bloke. We share the same taste in whisky, which is lucky.’

Harry was obviously now very drunk too.

‘Yes, we know each other, thank you.’

Paul nodded at her with his chin resting on his hand. ‘Just making sure my head doesn’t fall off,’ he said.

Paul and Harry both starting laughing.

‘Really,’ said Rachel.

‘And Paul thinks my trousers are rather cool, don’t you?’

Harry got off his bar stool and paraded up and down, hitching up his trousers to make them look even shorter. A few people looked round at him.

‘Harry, we’re going to leave very soon. So just sit down and stay here while I track down Shali.’ She didn’t want him wandering around in that state.

Harry sat back down. ‘Why would I go anywhere? I’m at my favourite bar, with my favourite mate and my favourite whisky. This is a bloody great night.’

Rachel was fuming. Why was Harry incapable of drinking in moderation? And worse still, he’d got Rowan drunk too. She couldn’t believe Rowan had mentioned the whole hotel thing to Carl in front of his wife. It was definitely time to go.

Rachel walked around the Great Hall a couple of times looking for Shali. She couldn’t see her. Maybe she was in the ladies’. When she didn’t find her there either, she checked the Rose Room. That was empty and being cleared up. Where was she?

Rachel was walking back towards the Great Hall when she heard laughing coming from a corridor just off to the side. She walked over and looked round the corner. Rowan and Shali were coming out of the door of a small anteroom. Shali had her arm round Rowan’s waist and was nuzzling his neck as they walked.

They stopped dead as soon as they saw her.

‘Where the hell have you two been?’ Rachel asked.

She looked at their faces and their dishevelled clothes and suddenly realised what a stupid question that was.

‘Oh my God, no, I don’t believe it!’ Rachel looked at them in shock.

Shali looked at the floor and Rowan stepped hurriedly sideways, dropping Shali’s arm from his waist.

Before Rachel could say anything else, two waiters walked down the corridor carrying trays of glasses.

‘Can we help you with something?’

‘We were just, um, looking for the ladies’,’ said Rachel.

‘They’re over there, on the left. This is the way to the kitchens.’

‘Oh yes, thanks, sorry,’ said Rachel, ushering Rowan and Shali back towards the Great Hall where she grabbed Harry.

‘Right, get your coats, we’re going outside to flag down a black cab. This evening is turning into a right bloody disaster,’ said Rachel, forcing herself to keep her voice down.

The four of them got into the taxi in silence. Harry soon fell asleep, shortly followed by Rowan. Rachel couldn’t bring herself to look at Shali, who said nothing until the taxi reached her road.

‘Just here on the left thanks,’ Shali said to the taxi driver as Rowan woke up. ‘Good night everyone.’

Only Rowan replied.

Rachel prodded Harry as they reached his flat. He looked out the window.

‘Can’t I come to yours? It’s still early.’ He tried to put his arm round Rachel.

She pushed him away. ‘No you can’t, and you have no idea what time it is,’ said Rachel.

‘Yes I have, it’s…’ Harry peered at his watch, trying to focus enough to see the hands. ‘No, you’re right, no bloody idea.’

‘Harry, go home. Call me tomorrow when you get up.’

Reluctantly Harry got out of the cab.

The taxi dropped off Rachel next.

‘I’ll call
you
tomorrow,’ she said, scowling at Rowan as she got out of the taxi. Rowan nodded sheepishly.

When she got into her flat, she sat down on the sofa and put her head in her hands. Despite the fact that she’d had a few drinks, she felt stone cold sober. What would Carl have made of Rowan’s remark about hotel bars? What if he’d seen her when she walked into the pillar in the hotel reception? The crash was so loud that they were bound to have looked round. And then there was Rowan and Shali. How could they? How could Rowan? Rachel couldn’t decide which nightmare she was most unhappy about.

She shivered: it was late and she was cold. She crawled slowly into bed and pulled the duvet up over her head in an attempt to block out the images that were dancing through her head.

Chapter 8

The next day was Sunday. Rachel decided it might not be best to ring Rowan at
home, so she sent him a text message instead:
Call me when you can, R
. She resisted the temptation to add ‘Judas’ at the end: too melodramatic.

Rowan rang after lunch.

‘Hi, it’s me.’ His voice sounded croaky.

‘Hi, can you talk?’ Rachel asked.

‘Yes, I’m in the park with Naomi. Laura’s having a lie down.’

‘How are you?’ Rachel asked.

‘Feeling sick as a dog,’ said Rowan. ‘You?’

‘Not bad, a bit rough round the edges but could be worse.’ She couldn’t keep up the polite chat for long. ‘God, Rowan, I can’t believe you and Shali. What were you thinking?’

‘Rachel, it’s none of your business,’ said Rowan.

‘What do you mean it’s none of my business? It was me who invited you, it was my work party and you were with my friend. How much more of my business could it be?’ Rachel was furious.

‘I mean that it’s my business to sort it out,’ said Rowan.

‘Oh really, and how exactly do you intend to do that?’

‘Look, I really didn’t mean for anything to happen. I had too much to drink and just got carried away,’ said Rowan, not answering the question.

‘That’s no bloody excuse! What are you going to do now, leap on someone every time you drink too much?’

‘No, of course not.’

‘Well, why did you do it then?’

‘I don’t know. It just sort of happened,’ said Rowan.

‘These things don’t just happen, Rowan − you’ve got to want them to happen. And what about Laura?’ Rachel asked.

‘Laura and I haven’t been getting on that well lately. She just seems to have, well, you know, lost interest in me. All she cares about is Naomi.’ His voice cracked as he spoke.

Rachel paused slightly. He sounded pretty upset. Well, he deserves to be, she thought, and carried on. ‘I also can’t believe that comment you made to Carl Stephens, and in front of his wife, about not spending too much time in hotel bars. Are you trying to get me sacked?’

‘Shit, Rachel, did I? I don’t remember that at all. I’m so sorry, what an idiot. Did he figure out that we saw him?’

‘I don’t know. He looked pretty cross, though. I’ll have to see how he is tomorrow, I guess, and just try to bluff my way through it. Thanks for nothing.’

‘I am sorry, Rachel, really I am.’

Rachel couldn’t bring herself to say it was okay. ‘What are you going to do now?’