Undertaking Love (19 page)

She squeezed Marla’s shoulder to a flurry of ‘aaah’ from around the table, and Marla arranged her face into what she hoped looked like a smile to mask her inner horror at the thought of her mother staying forever.

‘And can I also just add a huge good luck to my darling Brynn before his speech at the taxidermy expo tomorrow. You go, honey!’

She raised her glass down the table towards her fiancé.

A mildly bewildered silence fell across the table until Jonny leapt into the breach feet first.

‘So, Brynn. Taxidermy. Tell me, what’s the biggest cock you’ve ever stuffed?’

Everyone around the table gasped in unison and stared from Jonny to Brynn like tennis spectators. Brynn, for his part, appeared completely unperturbed by the question as he paused for a moment’s thought and chewed on his bread roll.

‘Well, Jonny, I guess that would have to be a bull. Boy oh boy, was he a cracking specimen. Well over two foot long.’

Brynn held out his hands to demonstrate and Jonny’s eyes boggled with excitement. ‘Why do I suddenly feel so inadequate?’ He cackled and crossed his legs.

‘No need at all, Jonny my love,’ Cecilia squawked from down the table. Marla groaned, shut her eyes, and wished for death. Her mother was always eager to don her sex therapist hat. She cast a longing look towards the door. Could she get away with a loo break yet?

Cecilia pointed a long red nail at Brynn.

‘Brynn honey, be honest. Don’t I always tell you that girth is more important than length?’

Brynn turned beetroot, casting a glance down at his own trouser department.

‘I mean,’ Cecilia leaned forward and dropped her voice to a stage whisper and they all leant in a little. ‘I, for instance, am terribly small –’ she glanced at her lap with an exaggerated grimace ‘– down there.’

Marla, who had heard this spiel many times before, waited for the requested earthquake or alternative divine act to strike her mother and shut her up.

‘Anything more than a few inches would just hang around outside in the cold.’ She threw her hands up and nodded sagely at her stunned-into-silence audience. ‘Girth wins every time. A man can never be too wide.’

Dora smiled fondly across the table at her husband. ‘My Ivan’s hung like a donkey.’

Ivan stuck his thumb up at his wife and patted his groin absently as he reached for the butter.

Marla glanced at Tom, who had tears of laughter coursing down his cheeks. He raised his glass in salute. ‘This is hands down the best dinner I’ve ever been to in my life.’

Johnny whistled under his breath and shot an excited look at Emily. ‘Don’t look now, but Gomez and Morticia just walked in.’

Marla followed his gaze to the doors. Crap. That was it. She was done with praying. She cowered behind her oversized menu and hoped desperately that Gabe wouldn’t spot her. She flicked a glance at Rupert. Things had only just settled back into an uneasy truce between them, she wasn’t sure they were on an even enough keel to handle being in the same room as Gabe just yet.

She risked a quick look around the menu to see who Gabe was with.

Oh. My. God.

Was that his
receptionist
?

Marla scrutinised the woman in the clinging black dress with her hair piled up and too much make up on.
It was! It was Melanie. Surely Gabe wasn’t seriously dating that hideous, dog-murdering girl?
But then, why would they be out for dinner á deux at Franco’s, if he wasn’t?

Crap. Melanie was looking their way.

Look away, look away, look away.
But of course, Melanie didn’t look away. She tipped her head to the side and met Marla’s gaze with raised eyebrows and a tiny smile. What
was
that look in her eyes? Was it smugness, or triumph maybe? A horrible mix of both, Marla decided, burning up with hatred.

She murdered Bluey. She’s a horrible manipulative little cow bag, and she murdered my dog.
What the fuck was Gabe thinking
? And did he not think it was unethical to fraternise with his staff? He ought to watch his back. Melanie was the sort of woman who would cry sexual assault the minute he stepped out of line. Marla sniffed and tried to concentrate on the menu, although the idea of food was beginning to make her queasy.

Meanwhile, realising that she’d lost her audience, Cecilia turned to see who Jonny and Emily were craning their necks to get a look at.

‘Who are they, honey?’

She elbowed Marla and nodded over at Gabe and Melanie. Marla feigned ignorance.

‘Err … I’m not sure.’ She glanced pointedly at her mother’s menu. ‘Have you decided? I think I’m going to have the salmon.’

Cecilia wasn’t fooled. ‘Marla, who
are they
?’ she hissed. ‘Ooh, they’re coming over. Introduce me.’

Marla sunk lower in her chair and chanced a look at Rupert, whose thunderous expression confirmed that he had also clocked Melanie hauling Gabe across the restaurant.

Jonny leapt to his feet – ever the genial host despite the fact that it wasn’t even his party. The gentle way that Gabe had handled Bluey’s death had left Jonny with a new-found respect for Marla’s adversary. He reached out and shook Gabe’s hand. ‘Gabe.’

Marla was at least heartened by the way he dismissed Melanie with a curt nod.

Cecilia was out of her seat and bobbing like an excited child as she waited to be introduced.

Gabe glanced around the table like a watchful lion sizing up the enemy. His gaze came to rest on Marla just as her mother delivered a sharp kick to her shins to make her stand up.

‘Gabe. This is a surprise.’ She placed her menu down slowly and stood begrudgingly next to her mother. ‘This is my mother, Cecilia.’

Her ingrained good manners demanded that she make introductions at the very least.

‘Mom, this is Gabriel Ryan. He runs the funeral parlour. You know, the one
right next door
to the chapel.’

She shot her mother a warning look and Cecilia frowned for a second. She’d heard enough about the High Street battle to be aware that Gabe and Marla were not the best of friends.

Please don’t say anything ridiculous, Mom. Just say Hi and let them return to their table.

‘Oooh. I’ve heard a lot about you, and all bad, you naughty young man!’ Cecilia’s eyes danced as they always did in the presence of an attractive man. Marla should have known better than to hope family loyalty would trump good looks.

‘Come on over here and let me fraternise with the enemy!’ Cecilia’s laughter tinkled as she threw out her arms to beckon him closer.

Naughty young man? Fraternise with the enemy?
Marla was instantly transported back twenty years to schoolyard fights. Her mother had never fought her corner then either, especially if the kid in question had a good-looking dad. But Marla was all grown up these days, and she was going to kill her mother for this. She’d let Brynn stuff her too, for good measure.

Gabe’s smile couldn’t have been more awkward as he made his way around the table and kissed Cecilia’s overly powdered cheek.

Marla watched in horrified fascination as her mother fluttered her false lashes and swooned under Gabe’s attention. The fact that this particular good-looking man was trying to wreck her daughter’s life was clearly not reason enough to refrain from flirting.

‘Good to meet you, Cecilia. Marla tells me you’re to be married soon?’

Marla’s toes curled as she peeped at Rupert through her fringe. She hadn’t talked about her mom with Rupert before this visit, so her obvious confidence in Gabe was not likely to go down well. Oh dear. He was purple-in-the-face kind of angry.
Please don’t make a scene, Rupert.

‘But then he’s never asked you about your family either, has he?’
the little devil on her shoulder prompted.

‘Please, come join us. We’re having a bit of a party,’ Cecilia asked.

‘We’d love to, thank you,’ Melanie piped up and beamed at Marla’s mother.

‘We would?’ Gabe shot her a quizzical look.

Melanie leaned in and cupped her hand around Gabe’s ear for privacy.

‘There’s been a bit of a hitch with the others, they went to the wrong restaurant,’ she whispered.

It was a toss up for who looked more mortified, Marla or Gabe. Shock robbed them both of the power of speech for a crucial moment, and Cecilia jumped in and beckoned the waiter over and organise two extra chairs next to her own.

‘And who is this delightful creature?’ Cecilia enquired, her eyes on Melanie.

Delightful?
Marla reached the end of her tether. ‘This is Melanie, mom. She’s the one who killed Bluey.’

Melanie blanched beneath her make-up and Rupert coughed nervously.

‘Marla, darling, that’s umm, not...’ he flicked a glance between Marla and Melanie. ‘Well, not strictly fair.’

Why. Thank. You. Rupert.
His lack of public support stung like a slap.

Tom raised his glass again, merry as a mad monk on too much wine and not enough food. ‘A toast.’ He paused until everyone had quietened down to listen. ‘To Bluey.’

‘Who’s Bluey?’ Brynn hissed to no one in particular as everyone reached for their glass.

‘Marla’s Great Dane. Melanie ran him over.’ Emily supplied as she topped up her wine glass with more water.

‘Lovely big boy he was,’ Dora said, her lip quivering so much Brynn was moved to upend the wine bottle into her glass and pushed it towards her.

Ivan nodded and pointed a crooked index finger at Brynn. ‘I’ll tell you something. He’d have given your bull a run for his money. Huge todger. Spotted it when he piddled on my roses.’

Brynn clapped his hands in delight and looked over at Gabe with hopeful eyes.

‘You haven’t still got him in the deep freeze have you, Gabriel?’

‘No, he bloody well hasn’t!’ Marla banged her glass down on the table. With as much control as she could muster, she shot out of her chair to make a break for the sanctuary of the little girls’ room. She would have made it, had she not barrelled headlong into a strong pair of arms instead just a few feet from the table.

‘Marla, I thought it was you.’

She looked up, and one glimpse of the familiar, craggy face of her ex-stepfather Dr Robert Black was enough to make her crumple against his crisp white shirt.

He was an unexpected and comforting lifejacket in a stormy sea, and she clung on tight.

‘Robert?’ Cecilia’s voice quivered from behind them, stripped bare of her trademark confidence.

Robert smiled warmly at his ex-wife. ‘Cecilia. Long time no see.’

When Marla returned to the table some minutes later, her main course was cold and her seat was occupied by Robert, head to head in quiet conversation with her mother. Marla couldn’t help but notice the way her mother leaned her body in towards him, or how her face had softened in his presence in a way that had nothing to do with the candles flickering on the table.

On Cecilia’s other side, Melanie looked up from her salad, giving Marla a sly wink over Gabe’s dipped head.

Marla comforted herself with a split second fantasy of gouging out Melanie’s eyes with one of the dainty silver fish knives that lay close at hand.

Perhaps Brynn would like to pop them into his pocket to dissect later. On second thoughts, maybe not. No doubt they’d be full of putrid, evil stuff that would splatter the walls if he sliced into them, because Melanie’s smug look was laced with pure bromide.

Robert spotted Marla behind him and jumped up to fold her into another quick hug. He held her at arms length and looked her over with a concerned frown.

‘Alright now, sweetheart?’

She blinked quickly as a fresh platoon of tears marched eagerly up her tear ducts.
Left, right, left, right!
Fall back! Fall back!
His kind, fatherly tone threatened to unpick the good the five minutes she’d just spent deep breathing with Emily in the ladies’ had done. She smiled, her eyes overly bright.

‘It’s so lovely to see you,’ she answered. Robert had been more of a fatherly presence in his few short years as Cecilia’s husband than her own dad had been in a lifetime.

‘You too, honey. Call me soon, yes?’

Marla squeezed his hands and nodded.

‘Who are you here with?’ she asked, keen to steer the conversation into less emotional waters. Behind her, Cecilia leaned forward to catch the answer to the question she probably hadn’t dared to ask herself.

‘It’s a work thing,’ Robert said. ‘Bit dry, to be honest. Was a relief to spot my favourite girls over here … my favourite girl.’

He tailed off and corrected himself with an awkward smile. ‘My favourite girls’ had always been his term of endearment for Marla
and
Cecilia, and it was clearly inappropriate now. Hearing it then was almost enough to summon the tears legion back to duty.

Brynn shot around the table and screeched to a halt behind Cecilia’s chair. It was a tactical error. Standing near Robert only served to highlight the fact that Brynn was a head shorter and a darn sight less attractive.

‘Brynn Holt. Taxidermist. And, Cecilia’s intended.’

He slicked hair back into place and held out his hand towards Robert.

‘Intended for what?’ Jonny called. ‘A glass display case in the cellar?’

He earned himself a high five from a rather drunk Tom and a sharp elbow in the ribs from Emily.

Robert suppressed a smile.

‘Dr. Robert Black. Gynaecologist. And ex-husband number five.’

‘Oooh, excellent,’ Tom said, brightly. ‘You should be able verify Cecilia’s tiny fanny claim, then.’

Gabe spluttered on the large glass of wine that Cecilia had pressed on him. Brynn looked askance, Robert looked amused, and Cecilia, who loved nothing more than discussing sexual anatomy around the dinner table, nodded in excitement.

‘In my professional capacity, I most certainly cannot.’ Robert frowned at Tom, and then grinned. ‘However, in my capacity as ex-husband, I can indeed confirm that Cecilia is delightfully snug.’

Parting shot delivered, he turned on his heels and headed back to join his own party. Marla realised with a jolt that most of
their
own party had been too interested in Robert to carry on conversations between themselves, and now he’d gone they were all gazing at her like attentive students in a classroom. All except Jonny, who leaned back on his chair legs to watch Dr Robert’s retreating backside.