Venus Envy (23 page)

But my abortive engagement to Justin was as close

a I ever got. His ring was an emerald, a tiny green chip surrounded by seed pearls. I gave it back to him. I once saw a picture of Hannah in Country Life and her engagement ring was a socking great diamond. I suppose he felt her rolling acres deserved more in the way of ostentation. Sometimes I wonder what happened to that cheap little bauble he got me, think how I should have guessed the depths of his commitment when I saw it. But I can say honestly enough that getting that ring - at the bottom of a glass of wine, how clich6d - was one of the happiest moments of my whole life.

I know I wouldn’t have been happy with Justin. Right now, he’s campaigning to reinstate chains on women prisoners giving birth. ‘Let’s not forget these people are felons,’ he was quoted in the Telegraph. ‘If you can’t do the time, don’t do the crime.’

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But still. Back to the Brides thing. The other part of it was that when you had one of those magazines - on the train, the Tube, anywhere really - other women noticed. The whole world noticed. Girls smile wistfully and wish they were you. Fat housewives give you motherly grins. Old men wink. Young guys say, ‘You’re better off wi’ me, luv.’

And now I was in the middle of a walking, talking Brides feature, except Tom would never be so tacky as to let a magazine take photos of his brother’s wedding. Ellen was going where Sue and Melissa and Gillian and Penny have been. Where Bronwen and Keisha and Gail could have been several times. Where the whole world, except me, seemed to go. She had got it all. The

flowers, the cake, the rock on her finger.

And she’d got me.

‘We’ve ,got no time to run up a matching outfit.’ Thank God, because the twins’ floral print was better suited to curtains. Or a Holiday Inn bedspread. ‘What do you think of magenta? Mrs Drummond has a lovely Laura Ashlw’

‘Er, I think I’ll pop into Gloucester,’ I interrupted hastily. ‘Grab something simple.’

Ellen’s pudgy face fell. ‘Magenta would be smashing with the bouquet.’

Bloody hell, woman, I’m not going to look like an over-boiled Frankfurter .just to coordinate with your flowers! ‘But it’s horrible with copper hair. I’ll pick something ‘that goes, I promise.’

Outside the ancient windows I could see a squirrel hanging on the. branch of a yew tre. He stared at me despisingly before throwing a nut in my direction. I couldn’t even get rodents to give me any respect.

‘Please, Ellen.’ I was desperate to get out of the house. But then I remembered I didn’t have a car: Keisha and Bron had nicked our wheels.

‘OK.’ She looked crestfallen, but she didn’t want a

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row. That was the Ellen I remembered: she’d always give in to me. ‘If you’re sure.’

‘Double sure with a cherry on top. Oh look.’ I pointed out the window as a Bentley screeched to a halt outside the front door. ‘That must be Gail.’

Gail flung her arms round me in a pretty display of sisterly delight. Pukesville, she was usually as glad to see me as the gas bill. She was wearing a peach silk suit and she must have spent the whole of yesterday in a tanning salon. Her tiny legs were nutmeg brown, her blonde hair was blowing about her face.

‘Wow, those look like Manolos,’ I said, looking at the strappy, sexy bits of nothing on her feet.

‘Mmm. Snowy got them for me. Snowy, darling, could you grab the luggage?’

Snowy stepped out of the driver’s side. She was willowy and elegant in a white cotton pant suit, with a chic little hat and huge dark glasses. Her long hair was braided down her back. She walked around to the car boot swaying like a greyhound and lifted out two Louis Vuitton cases.

‘Gosh, let me get those for you.’ Charlie rushed forward, practically ripped them out of her hands. He was flushed, his mouth slightly open. His gaze travelled all over Snowy’s gorgeous lean silhouette. His tongue was practically on the gravel. It’s sick-making, the effect that girl had on men.

Snowy favoured him with a smile and whipped off her glasses, to reveal blue eyes silvered and turquoised into smoky beauty. Her perfectly neat plucked brow arched just a touch.

Instinctively I pressed finger to my own N0el Gallagher specials.

‘Gail, how sweet of you to come,’ Mrs Drummond said, and there was a hasty round of introductions. ‘I don’t think I know your friend.’

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‘This is Olivia White. She’s our schoolfriend and she ferried me down,’ said Gail artlessly, ‘hope you don’t mind.’

‘The more the merrier,’ said poor Mrs Drummond. Ellen came across to hug Gail and Snowy. Next to them she looked like a pregnant elephant. Charlie muttered nice things but he could hardly take his eyes off Snowy’s ass in that tight suit. There was no VPL whatsoever. My God, I wondered if she was wearing underwear? Most of the guys were back from scouting the churches. Danny and Ted were watching my sister and Snowy and talking intently to each other. Karl and Bill were laughing loudly and grinning like Cheshire Cats. I felt a sick little thud of jealousy. Wouldn’t it be great if guys looked at me like that everywhere I went?

‘Alex, you never told me your sister was so ravishing,’ Danlay Boyle said loudly. ‘And with such edible

friends. Any time you want me to babysit …’

I smiled weakly and fled into the house.

Ellen grabbed me before I could make a dash for it upstairs. ‘Are you going to borrow your sister’s car for Gloucester?’

I’d rather not. It was Snowy’s, and I didn’t want to owe that bitch any favours.

‘I think she might be needing it,’ I lied.

‘Then Tom will take you. Tom!’ Ellen padded across and pulled Tom out of the kitchen. His face tightened when he saw me; a little muscle was going in his cheek. ‘Would you run Alex into Gloucester? She’s going to be my maid of honour. And she n6eds a dress.’

‘Didn’t you want to use Mummy’s pink Laura Ash?’ said Tom.

‘I don’t think it’ll suit me,’ I said levelly.

‘I’m sure Ellen will love it,’ Tom said.

‘Maybe.’ I took a breath. ‘But it won’t suit me.’ Ellen was a little worried now, her huge cheeks were

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reddening. Tom glanced at her. “Course I’ll take her, Ellen. Come on, Alex, we’ll go now.’

Outside I could hardly look at him as we headed into

the maze of cars.

‘Which one’s yours?’

‘The Rolls over there.’ He pointed to a stunning, low-slung Silver Phantom. ‘It’s not locked.’

The old Tom would never have-let me get into a car myself. I wrenched open the door and slid inside, frowning. Tom got in without a word, buckled up and eased us out on to the drive. We slipped noiselessly through his grounds: the trees half-golden, half-green; chestnuts scattered across the path and all the lawns ‘perfectly cut.

‘You know, the wedding day is about the bride,’ he

said stiffly, once we were out on the open road.

‘What?’

‘It’s not about the dress suiting you, it’s about what

Ellen wants.’

‘Well. I’m stepping in at the last minute and I’m not

going to look like a Christmas decoration,’ I snarled.

Tom laughed. ‘Don’t worry, Alex. Nobody could mistake you for an angel.’

‘You’ve got no idea what it’s like in the real world,’ I

spat. ‘Dating Miss Perfect Linda and all those other

nice girls. Life’s not that neat for the rest of us.’

‘You prefer a using bastard, a shabby little playboy

like Seamus Mahon,’ Tom said blandly.

‘Seamus and I have nothing to do with you.’

‘You do while you’re under my roof. And Dolores is

also my guest.’

‘Wrong again. Ellen wants me to be her bridesmaid. Would you like to explain to her why you’ve chucked me out?’ Tom was silent. ‘See, your hands are tied, so you can shove it with the lectures, OK?’

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‘So you will not give him up? You don’t care if people see you together?’

It was not like that any more. It never had been. Part of me wanted to explain, what Seamus told me, how I

broke it off. But screw him!

‘My life’s my business.’

‘Seamus Mahon.’ Tom sounded almost bitter. ‘Well.’ He paused for thought, his knuckles white on the wheel. ‘Maybe I owe you an apology. It’s your life,

why should I care?’

‘Why indeed?’

‘He’s your speed. I - I once thought I was your speed.’

Oh right, and now you know I’m a scarlet woman, now you know better. ‘Well, Tom, don’t trouble yourself with those thoughts any more. I could never go for a man like you.’

‘Oh?’ he asked softly.

‘No.’ I wished I smoked, I would have struck up a fag right then. ‘Insufferably arrogant, Tory, moneyed idiot. Think you’re better and cleverer than the whole world. And you’re so damn pious, they should build a church to you. “Saint Thomas the Slimmer.” It’s a good job you’re not Catholic, Tom, you’d bore the priest to death in the confessional, wouldn’t you? Being so much purer than everyone else. But it’s pretty easy to be pure when nobody wants to tempt you.’

Tom was quiet for a moment. ‘I had no idea you thought of me that way.’

‘And I had no idea you would sit in judgment on

me.’

‘Was I wrong? Was it not how it looked? Maybe he

did just pounce on you.’

‘He did.’

‘So you weren’t having an affair with him?’

My turn to be silent. Tom looked away from me and put his foot down. We were going at a raging speed.

‘I’m not scaring you, am I?’ he asked.

My fists were clenched but I wouldn’t give him the satisfaction. ‘Not a bit.’

‘Great,’ Tom said, and pushed his foot to the floor.

In Gloucester Tom parked outside a big shopping centre.

‘This isn’t much good to me,’ I told him. ‘W.H. Smith’s and Debenhams. Do you expect me to get something decent in Marks & Sparks?’

I was so frazzled now you could have fried an egg on me. It was an unseasonably hot autumn day, I was sweating madly in my smart knits and Tom had made me furious. What with Ellen and Seamus, I was feeling pretty wretched, if you want the truth. What were we doing in this provincial hellhole? I doubted there was a Prada boutique in the whole county. God, he probably expected me to go shopping in C&A. He was trying to blackmail me into wearing the magenta thing with the huge bow.

“It’ll have to do.’ Tom leant back lazily against his car and looked me up and down. Damn it, I didn’t like the way he did that. It used to be OK, but then Tom used to be as big as a house. Now he was still big, but

he was stocky. Muscular. He looked like a real male. I found it disturbing.

‘There must be some designer shops round here. Gloucestershire’s full of rich women.’

‘But I’m not a woman,’ Tom said flatly. ‘Why the hell should I know where they are?’

I stomped off towards the shopping centre to .find Tom following right behind me.

‘What the hell do you think you’re doing?’ ‘Coming with you,’ he said simply.

‘I don’t need some hulking brute following me into womenswear.’

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‘You prefer pansies like Mahon who can be taken for women?’

‘He’s not a pansy. And what kind of a word is that?’ ‘I don’t go for political correctness, Alex. The man’s a pansy. Coloured suits and long hair and couldn’t lift

a can of baked beans without help.’

‘He’s got short hair.’

‘It’s coming over his collar. And you’re going to get me, I’m afraid. I can’t afford to have you getting lost

and then delaying me getting home.’

‘Go away.’

‘What are you going to do?’ asked Tom, smiling sunnily. ‘Call a policeman and tell him I’m stalking you?’

I was spitting mad. ‘Maybe.’

‘Well.’ He grinned infuriatingly. ‘There’s one, over there. Be’my guest.’

A WPC with a face like a horse’s butt was striding across the square right in front of us. She looked very important and busy.

I clenched my teeth and hit him. ‘Bastard!’ My fist connected into solid muscle, it actually stung my fingers.

‘Now, now, violence never solves anything,’ Tom said.

Had he always been like this? Overbearing, insistent on his own way? I suppose he had, but Tom and I had seen eye to eye at Oxford. He’d never approved of Justin, but he’d never given me any lectures either. Although Justin was single. And when I wanted to quit at. Hamilton Kane, he’d laid down the law then too, but I hadn’t minded, because I’d truly wanted to stay.

I minded now. I rejected everything in M&S in a second flat. Debenhams was better. Before you start laughing, they had a Pierce II Fionda exclusive design

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a long, scoop-necked silky thing in dark iris. I tried it

on, deliberately taking ages.

‘Oh, it does suit you, modom,’ the assistant told me, peering .in through the curtain.

I stepped out to show Tom. He could eat his heart

out, The long sweep of the material forgave a lot of sins. It showed my height and my smallish waist, it gave me a decent cleavage, and the colour was amazing with my hair and eyes.

I twirled, letting it catch the light. I knew I looked

like a deep-blue tiger lily.

‘You’re not wearing that,’ Tom said flatly.

I bridled. ‘This is perfectly decent.’

‘You’re not wearing that. You’re not going to tpstage the bride,’ Tom said, adding firmly to the

saleswoman that we didn’t want it, thank you.

‘I bloody do want it,’ I snarled.

‘Then you can get yourself back to Carrefour. I suppose you could take a taxi, but you don’t know the way, do you, sweetheart? You’d have to ring Ma for directions. And tell her why I left you here.’

‘You’re insufferable,’ I gasped as I peeled the gown

off. It was even worse because the assistant forgot who was in what cubicle and whisked back my curtain, flashing me in the full glory of my grimy M&S knicks to Tom. She screamed, I screamed, she yanked back the curtain.

‘Don’t bloody gawp at me, you peeping Tom!’ ‘Appropriate, huh?’ I could hear the smile in his voice. ‘Don’t worry, Alex, there’s nothing there to interest me.’