Rivals (22 page)

    Outside, Mrs Makepiece's punk son Kevin was directing cars into a nearby field, and coming in frequently to fortify himself against the cold with slugs of wine. Reg and his two friends were doing sterling work drinking and circulating drink. Grace was already pissed. 'Goodness you look tired,' she said to Taggie. 'What 'ave you been up to?'

    Gertrude grew hoarse with barking as more and more people poured in. The party was plainly a success. Maud had produced a splendid mix: lots of London friends, who were knocked out by the beauty of the house and how good Maud was looking. Many of them had brought teenage children who were borne off upstairs for Malibu and coke in Caitlin's bedroom. Then there were Patrick's glamorous friends from Trinity, a large contingent from Corinium Television, and all Maud and Declan's new friends from Gloucestershire, who were thoroughly over-excited to see so many London celebs. With two hours' hard drinking before dinner, most people were soon absolutely plastered.

    Bas Baddingham stunned everyone by turning up with a most beautiful wife - somebody else's.

    'She left Alistair on December 12th, and was out hunting the very next day,' said Valerie Jones in a shocked voice.

    Valerie could also be heard saying repeatedly that she was simply exhausted after so many parties. 'Fred-Fred and Ay

    simply longed for a poached egg in front of TV tonight, but we felt we couldn't let the O'Haras down,' she said to Lizzie Vereker. 'What a crush, I hope we daine soon.'

    'Did you have a good Christmas?' Lizzie asked Freddie. 'Amizing,' said Freddie. 'Got some triffic presents. The staff gave me a fireman's helmet, cos I'm always rushin" about, and Rupert sent me a loaf of Mother's Pride.' Lizzie giggled.

    'Typical,' said Valerie, her lips tightening. 'And those bantams' eggs you gave us were triffic, too. You can taste the difference. I 'ad one for my breakfast this morning.' Freddie beamed at Lizzie.

    'Nonsense, Fred-Fred,' said Valerie with a little laugh, 'that egg came from Tesco's.'

    James, who'd skipped lunch because he was having his roots touched up, was drinking more than usual and thinking what a lot of amazingly beautiful women there were around: Joanna Lumley over there, and Patricia Hodge, and Pamela Armstrong, and Selina Scott and Ann Diamond.

    Maud was looking sensational too, and there was Sarah Stratton, not looking as good as usual. There were black rings under her eyes, but she still exuded wantonness.

    Sarah was, in fact, in a foul mood. She hadn't had any lunch either, because she'd been hunting for a dress to wear this evening. She had missed Rupert horribly over Christmas. He obviously couldn't ring her, as Paul had been home all the time, but she hadn't even had a postcard, and then in Nigel Dempster's column that morning there'd been a picture of Rupert skiing, with his arm round an incredibly glamorous French actress called Nathalie Perrault. She'd kill him when she saw him.

    Where the hell was he, anyway? Who could she flirt with to irritate him? The most attractive men in the room, Sarah decided, were Declan, who was already drunk, and Declan's son, a raving beauty, who was going to be very formidable in a few years' time when he filled out. Sarah shimmied out to the marquee and, finding Rupert's place card, moved it next to hers. How dare the bastard dally with Nathalie Perrault?

    Bloody Paul had read Dempster too, and made sly little digs about it all day.

    Tony, to his amazement, was thoroughly enjoying the party. Shrewd enough to appreciate his vanity, Maud was treating him as the guest of honour, keeping him constantly plied with celebrities, mostly beautiful women, and introducing him to them as: 'Declan's gorgeous boss. You must get him to ask you down to Corinium, darling.' Tony was soon purring like a great leopard let loose in a goat farm.

    Archie, Tony's beloved son, was getting plastered upstairs with Caitlin's friends. Poor fat Sharon Jones was desperately shy. Caitlin had introduced her to boy after boy, ordering them to look after her, but within seconds Sharon had waddled back to her increasingly irritated mother.

    'I told you, go and make some friends of your own age,' hissed Valerie furiously.

    Mrs Makepiece sidled up to Maud. 'Miss Taggie says we ought to eat; everything's ready.'

    'We can't till Rupert arrives,' said Maud firmly. 'Tell her to wait ten minutes.'

    The doorbell rang. Perhaps this was him. She went into the hall, but Declan got there first, and it was only Simon Harris barging in with the two hyperactive monsters, and the baby in a carrycot.

    'Hullo, Declan,' panted Simon. 'Sorry we're late. Nice of you to invite the whole brood.' Then, seeing Declan's look of horror, he explained, 'I talked to someone called Grace, who said it'd be quite all right."

    Looking around, deciding that this was the sort of nice messy house that wouldn't mind children, Simon let go of the two little monsters. 'Where shall I put the baby?'

    At that moment, Rupert sauntered through the open door with snow on his dinner jacket and in his hair, the dingy grey pallor of Simon Harris throwing his Gstaad suntan into even greater relief.

    'Rupert,' said Maud joyfully, 'you made it.'

    She looked so beautiful, glowing under the hall mistletoe,

    that Rupert kissed her on the mouth. 'You look sensational,' he said.

    'Not nearly as sensational as you,' whispered Maud. 'You must have had wonderful weather.'

    'I can feel the temperature dropping here,' said Rupert, as Declan turned on his heel and stalked off towards the kitchen. 'What's up with him?' 'Oh he's just in a bait.' Maud turned to the passing Reg. 'Bring Mr Campbell-Black a bucket of whisky.'

    Going back to the kitchen via the marquee, Caitlin put her place card back on Rupert's right and removed Wandering Aengus who was sitting on Valerie's plate. 'Wonderful party,' she said to Taggie who was grimly pouring turkey soup into bowls on trays. 'Rupert's arrived looking like a red Indian, so Mummy says we can eat now, and Daddy's terribly drunk.' 'Daddy's not the only one,' said Taggie. 'You should see Reg and his friends. Both Tracey and Kev have already buggered off upstairs, and good old Grace is singing "This Joyful Eastertide".'

18

    Tony Baddingham was even happier at dinner sitting between Joanna Lumley and Sarah Stratton.

    'I know by rights you should be on my right,' Maud had whispered in his ear, 'but I thought you deserved a treat.' 'Freddie and Ay'll be leaving early,' said Valerie as she went into dinner. 'The West Cotchester are meeting at Green Lawns tomorrow.' 'They're not meeting anywhere,' said Rupert. 'It's frozen solid outside, so we can all get frightfully drunk.'

    He wondered what had happened to Taggie. He couldn't find her name on the seating plan.

    'You're over here, next to me,' Maud called to Rupert, patting the seat beside her.

    'And next to me,' beamed Caitlin, bolting up to the table and whipping away Cameron Cook's place card which was on his other side. Maud could have murdered Caitlin, but she didn't want a scene in public.

    'You better say Grace," giggled Caitlin, who'd been at the Malibu, 'and she'll come running in singing "This Joyful It was obvious, reflected Tony with satisfaction, that Maud and Declan had had the most frightful row -probably about money. Earlier in the day Declan had very forcibly stressed that it was a tiny party, just a few friends, but there must be

    at least three hundred people here and by the way the Moet was being splashed about, nothing had been stinted, which was good, because the broker Declan got, the more dependent he'd be on Corinium, and the more Tony could torment and manipulate him. Then, looking across the room at Maud's enraptured face turned towards Rupert, her elbows pressed together to deepen her cleavage, her turkey soup untouched, he decided it was more likely that Declan was upset because his wife had a thumping great crush on Rupert. This suited Tony even better, because it meant Declan would crucify Rupert even more when he interviewed him in the New Year. Sarah Stratton, who'd stopped to say hullo to Rupert on the way in, was looking rather bleak as she sat down beside Tony.

    'I'm glad we're next to each other,' he said. 'I wanted to talk to you.'

    'Have you made any New Year's resolutions?' said Sarah, picking up her soup spoon.

    'Yes,' said Tony, his swarthy pirate's face suddenly looking as though he was going to fight off a flotilla of rival clipper ships, 'to keep the franchise." 'I'll drink to that,' said Sarah.

    'I wouldn't mind,' said Simon Harris across the room, helping himself to a seventh piece of garlic bread, 'but Tony came roaring in today saying I'm not having fucking language like that on any fucking programme going out from my fucking station.' 'Sorry to bother you, Mr Harris,' said Mrs Makepiece, 'but your baby's crying.'

    It was not surprising the baby was upset, surrounded as it was upstairs by scenes of Petronian debauchery, as teenagers smoked, drank, necked, and screamed with laughter as they opened another packet of Tampax and shot the cotton wool out like cannons. Archie was sharing a bottle of Moet with Caitlin, who had briefly abandoned Rupert at dinner to smoke an illicit cigarette. 'What has an Upland House girl in common with a Tampax?' Archie asked her.

    'Dunno,' said Caitlin.

    'They're both stuck-up cunts.'

    Caitlin screamed with laughter. 'Have you got a girlfriend?'

    "I did,' said Archie, 'but she went off me because of my zits.'

    'You mustn't worry about zits,' said Caitlin kindly. 'It means you're producing lots of Testosterone and will make a wonderfully vigorous lover later. Piss off, you snotty little buggers,' she screamed, as Simon Harris's monsters raced up and down giggling at the necking teenagers and threatening each other with one of Rupert's borrowed knives. 'My father said all your family were weirdos,' said Archie, 'but I think you're cool.'

    Declan, whom Maud had put deliberately between Monica and Valerie, so he couldn't make a scene, was so drunk he was in danger of seriously jeopardizing his career. He didn't even realize Monica was talking about Othello until she got onto Lago. 'He's an even more evil character than Scarpia,' she was saying.

    'Much more,' agreed Declan. 'Very like your husband in fact.'

    'Garlic bread, either of you?' said Valerie, unable to believe her ears.

    'Your husband is an absolute shit,' said Declan.

    'I know,' said Monica calmly, as she tore off a piece of garlic bread. 'However, I have three children and I don't believe in divorce.' 'Nor do I,' said Declan, filling up both their glasses.

    Valerie was absolutely livid when the farmer on her left said, 'You live at Long Bottom Court, don't you?' She didn't want to talk to him at all. She wanted to listen to what Monica was saying to Declan. 'You won't try and wind Tony up too much at work, will

    you?' went on Monica. 'You're very good for Corinium. They need people with integrity. I'd like you to stay.'

    'I'm not sure your husband would.'

    'I think we'd both better stop discussing Tony,' said Monica gently, 'or we might become very indiscreet. This is a very good party. Maud's looking so beautiful.' 'Has anyone ever told you you're a beautiful woman?' said Declan.

    Monica went pink. 'That's jolly well overdoing it. You really ought to eat some of this shepherd's pie. It's frightfully good.' But Declan was looking at Maud who was gazing at Rupert. 'O heart! O heart!' he murmured, 'if she'd but turn her head.' 'You'd know the folly of being comforted,' said Monica, finishing the quotation for him. 'Don't worry about Rupert,' she went on briskly. 'Bertie Berkshire once described him as a "particularly nasty virus, that one's wife caught sooner or later", but we all get over it.' Declan looked back at her, startled. 'Even you?'

    Monica sighed. 'Even me, although Rupert had no idea. Don Giovanni must have been very like him. He can't resist the conquest, and I think, although he won't admit it, he still misses show-jumping desperately, and it's a question of constantly filling the aching void.' 'He's usually filling other people's wives' aching voids,' said Declan bitterly.

    At last Maud had to stop monopolizing Rupert and turn to Declan's old boss at the BBC, Johnny Abrahams, who was sitting on her left. 'Lovely party, darling,' he said. 'Hope you can pay for it. What's up with Declan? Not working out with Tony Baddingham? I did warn him.' 'Don't be silly, " said Maud. 'You know Declan always has rows wherever he is. But look at him now, getting on like a house on fire with Tony's wife.' 'You can talk to me now," said Caitlin to Rupert.

    'How d'you do? I saw you at Midnight Mass,' said Rupert.

    He liked her merry face and her bright beady eyes.

    'Tell me," he went on lowering his voice, 'is your sister ever going to forgive me?'

    'Ah,' said Caitlin, 'well, you haven't been very nice to her. I heard about the groping at the dinner party, which was pretty crass, and the row over the stubble burning. Taggie probably over-reacted there; she's so soppy about animals, she spends her time prising frozen worms off the paths in this weather. What really pissed her off was that you were so unkind about Gertrude.' 'Gertrude?' said Rupert, bewildered.

    'Our dog. You may think Gertrude is very plain, but we're all devoted to her. Taggie's led such a sheltered life, she's never left home like Patrick and me, and she and Gertrude have never been parted.' Rupert grinned. 'Perhaps I should have sent Gertrude a pendant instead.'

    'Oh my God,' said Caitlin in horror, 'it was you! Because you signed it R, we all assumed it was from Ralphie. Taggie's mad about him, you see.' 'Glad I gave her a happy Christmas,' said Rupert acidly.

    'But she's not happy now, because Ralphie's turned up with another woman.'

    'Which is he?'

    That blond over there. Taggie likes blonds, so if you give her time…'

    'Caitlin,' said Maud very sharply, 'go and tell Taggie to clear away the fruit salad plates. We must have Patrick's cake, or we'll be still sitting here at midnight.' She turned to Rupert. 'We've managed to get tickets for Starlight Express the week after next. D'you want to come?' 'Don't talk about things that happen after I go back,' grumbled Caitlin, getting up.

    Taggie, Taggie,' she squealed, racing into the kitchen, 'Mummy wants the plates cleared, then we can have Patrick's cake.' There isn't anyone to clear them,' said Taggie in despair. 'Both the Makepiece children have vanished, and I can't find Mrs Makepiece or Grace, or Reg, or either of Reg's friends.'

    'Never mind that now,' said Caitlin. 'This is far more exciting. It was Rupert who sent you that pendant, because he was sorry about goosing you at Valerie Jones's.'

    'There's no way we're going to get 300 slices out of this.' Taggie nearly dropped Patrick's cake. 'What did you say?'

    'Rupert sent you the pendant.'

    'He couldn't have,' whispered Taggie. 'I hate him.'

    'No, you don't. He's really nice. Go and sit next to him. I'll try and find Reg and his mates to carry the cake in and people can eat it on their fruit salad plates. Go on, Tag.'

    'Never, never,' gasped Taggie. She was deathly pale now. 'I'm going to send it back.'

    Maud's plans had gone seriously awry. She had wanted them all to be dancing and she and Rupert to be standing under one of Caitlin's hundred bunches of mistletoe at midnight, but they were still sitting at the tables waiting for Patrick to cut his cake. Why on earth couldn't Taggie be more efficient?

    At five minutes to midnight Declan got somewhat unsteadily to his feet, and tapped the table with his knife. 'I'm very pleased to see you all here tonight,' he said, 'and I'd just like to drink my son Patrick's health. He's a good boy and he's given us a lot of pleasure over the years.'

    'And me too,' piped up Patrick's girlfriend, Lavinia, and everyone laughed and sang 'Happy Birthday' and said 'Speech! Speech!' As Reg and his mates staggered in very perilously carrying the cake, Patrick stood up. Speaking in public didn't rattle him in the least. He had all Declan's assurance:

    'I'd like to thank my father and mother for having me,' he said, 'and giving me such a wonderful party, and for my sister Taggie for doing all the work, and making this wonderful cake.' For a second Maud looked furious at the loudness of the cheers. 'Thank you all for coming, and for all your presents, which I'll open later when I get a moment.'

    There were more loud cheers. Then, just as Caitlin finished lighting the candles, like the dark stranger coming over the threshold, Cameron Cook walked in. She was wearing an extremely tight-fitting, strapless, black suede dress, which came eight inches above her knees. Three-inch cross-laced gaps on either side from armpit to hem made it quite plain she was wearing nothing but Fracas and Mantan underneath. There was a heavy metal chain round her neck, and among the heavy silver bangles worn over her long black suede gloves gleamed Tony's diamond bracelet.

    Anyone else would have looked tarty in that dress, but Cameron, with her marvellously lean, sinuous, rapacious beauty, succeeded in looking both menacing and absolutely staggering.

    'Holy shit,' said Patrick into the microphone.

    Everyone screamed with laughter.

    'Blow out your candles,' said Caitlin.

    Still gazing at Cameron, Patrick blew them out with one puff, then turned to Declan. 'Who the hell's that?'

    'The biggest bitch in television,' said Declan bleakly.

    'She may well be your future daughter-in-law,' said Patrick.

    'Christ, I can just see her with a whip,' muttered Bas to Rupert.

    'Perhaps that's what gets your brother going.'

    Basil turned to Daysee Butler: 'Did you know your boss was heavily into SIN?'

    'Who's she?' said Daysee.

    'Sorry I'm late,' said Cameron, fighting her way through the crowd to Maud's side. 'We've had a lot of hassle at work.'

    'Lovely to see you at any time,' said Maud. 'Caitlin,' she added pointedly, terrified that Caitlin might start monopolizing Rupert again, 'will get you something to eat.'

    'She needs a drink,' said Patrick.

    Goodness, he's pretty, thought Cameron. Like Declan, but purer-looking, somehow.

    'Aren't you going to cut your cake?' she said to him.

    'I've got to wish,' said Patrick. Never taking his eyes off her, he slowly plunged the knife into the cake, right up to the hilt.

    'I didn't have time to buy you a present,' said Cameron.

    'You brought yourself,' said Patrick, slightly mockingly. 'Just what I wanted.'

    Filling up his glass with champagne, he handed it to her. 'Thanks.' Taking it, Cameron drained the glass. Just at that moment, from speakers all round the tent, Big Ben boomed out the twelve strokes of midnight. As everyone started kissing everyone else and cheering, Patrick drew Cameron into his arms and kissed her on and on and on. At last they broke away. 'The coup defoudre,' said Patrick softly. 'I've waited twenty-one years for this to happen.' 'Look at Tony's face,' whispered Lizzie Vereker to Charles Fairburn with a shiver.

    As the last notes of 'Auld Lang Syne' rang out, Declan could be heard saying, 'Bloody January again.' Plates were being cleared away, tables pushed back and the marquee cleared for dancing, as the women drifted upstairs to do their faces. Telling Cameron he wouldn't be a second, Patrick went off to the kitchen to thank Taggie. Oblivious that Monica might be watching, Tony fought his way over to Cameron and seized her arm: 'What the hell are you playing at?' Cameron winced. 'Celebrating Christmas. It hasn't been great so far.'