Persuading Annie (16 page)

‘Right, that’s it,’ muttered Charles. ‘I was here first,’ and he pushed his horn too. Nothing happened.

Charles started rocking to and fro in his seat.

‘I mean, where
is
the bastard?’ he said, to no one in particular, scanning the street for signs of life. He desperately wanted to get out of his car and kick the Volvo, but there was no point in doing that until he’d checked first that its driver was a dwarf. A tornado of frustration spiralled inside his stomach.

Just then a front door slammed, and someone came out of one of the flats to Charles’s right – a burly young man in a suit that was as expensive as it was tasteless, walking with a ludicrously nonchalant swagger. He was practically walking horizontally. He sauntered to the Volvo and slowly opened the door, looking lazily round the street.

‘He’s just bloody ignoring me!’ spluttered Charles. ‘Look at the smug bastard, he’s completely ignoring me.’ And he hooted again.

At this, the man turned to Charles, stuck his finger in the air at him, smiled and got in the car.

‘There you are dear,’ said Victoria. ‘He didn’t ignore you after all.’

The man then proceeded to find a CD of his choice and put it in his CD player.

‘I should bloody ram him,’ shouted Charles, his face now purple. ‘The arrogance—’

‘Oh for God’s sake Charles,’ said Victoria sharply. ‘It’s made us four minutes later than we were before. We’ll still be the first there.’

‘I-I-I-’ he started, livid at his wife’s lack of loyalty. ‘He’s a bloody bastard bugger,’ he explained to her, stabbing the air in the direction of the Volvo to clarify his point. ‘I bet he was a bully at school. GET A MOVE ON!’ he shouted at his windscreen before hastily locking all the doors.

Finally the Volvo moved smoothly and very, very slowly down the road.

Charles was now hyperventilating, his hands taut on the wheel, beads of sweat forming on his forehead. Victoria watched him. How come he never expended so much emotion and energy on her?

Thankfully, the driver in front turned left at the next junction where Charles needed to turn right. Immediately he was driving up the backside of another car in front. When its brake lights flashed and Charles’s didn’t, Victoria panicked again.

‘
Watch out!
’ she shrieked.

‘Right, that’s it,’ said Charles, jamming on the brakes, undoing his seat belt and opening the car door. ‘You drive.’

‘Don’t be ridiculous,’ said Victoria. ‘You’re the man, you drive.’

But Charles was already walking round to her car door. Annie had to make a move fast.

‘I’ll drive,’ she said and jumped out of the car and into the driver’s seat, leaving Charles no choice but to sit in the back. Victoria panicked.

‘But Annie, sweetpea, you drive like a maniac.’

‘Yes, but I won’t divorce you after the journey.’

Annie drove as slowly and smoothly as she could, forcing herself to concentrate on the road and not on the evening ahead of her. If only the others knew that of all of them, she was the one least suited to the job of relaxed driving tonight, they might have been a tad more resistant to her taking the wheel.

They were the first to arrive. They all needed alcohol badly. Victoria came into the kitchen, gulping down white wine. She was enjoying the heightened state of surviving a near-death experience and was happily telling her sisters-in-law what was wrong with the food, while Charles stood in the corner, half-smiling, nursing his nerves.

When the wine started coursing through his blood system, his blinking mechanism slowed down and that, together with his large, flat feet, which splayed out Hobbit-like from his ankles, created the somewhat unnerving impression that he was a life-size fixture, complete with its own plinth.

Annie helped Fi with the finishing touches to the meal, which was to be eaten in the kitchen-cum-dining room. Unfortunately, the activity did not help her ignore the fact that her stomach was more churned than the butter she was placing on the table.

‘Where are the croutons?’ asked Victoria, peering into the soup.

‘How was your day?’ asked Sophie deliberately.

‘We haven’t got any croutons,’ answered Fi worriedly. ‘Do you think we need them?’

‘You’re having soup without croutons?’ asked Victoria, looking at her blankly.

The doorbell went.

‘Answer the door, Fi,’ said Sophie gratefully. ‘It might be Tony.’

Annie busied herself at the sink, with her back to the door. She heard a male voice in the hall and felt sick.

Fi came in holding Tony’s hand shyly.

‘Hi guys!’ greeted Tony, grinning at everyone. ‘How y’all doin’?’ He was enormous. About six foot four, square. He slapped Charles on the back affectionately, almost winding him. He shook hands with Victoria and Annie, unaware that the vigorousness of his handshake was as offensive to Victoria as it was unnerving for Annie.

* * * * *

Jake and David were late. Either that or they weren’t coming at all. It had occurred to Annie that the poor men had been put in rather a difficult position. They could hardly refuse an invitation from clients, yet they probably had hundreds of things they’d rather do than go to a dinner party hosted by Charles’s sisters. Like sit at home and hum. What if they didn’t come at all? What would she do with all this spare adrenaline? She wondered if anyone had a treadmill she could borrow.

When the doorbell finally went again, Annie took a swig from her glass of wine and steadied herself at the kitchen table. Jake and David entered the room.

David was all smiles, his eyes not knowing where to alight first. On seeing Sophie, however, they decided soon enough where to land last.

Jake was more reserved. He stood rigidly, his eyes fixed firmly on his two charming hostesses as if his life depended on it, a grim grin planted on his face and a tension in his body that Annie was beginning to find familiar.

On the arrival of the two men, an unspoken tension descended upon the room. Everyone shifted slightly to fit them into the kitchen, and the dynamics shifted with them. Tony’s increasing insecurity with Fi caused him to bristle at the sight of two unattached men, especially one with features that were more even than his own; Charles and Victoria, now fully recovered from the horror of their journey, became alert observers; Sophie and Fi became filled with the joy of vague possibilities and Annie thought she could hear hollow drumming in her ears.

As if that wasn’t enough, every person in the room was uncomfortably aware that these two men could save the Markham livelihood. Such a thought made most of the party feel grateful to the men and concerned for their own welfare. Except for Victoria. Victoria saw only that her father’s employees should feel honoured to be here.

Fi introduced Tony to Jake and David, rather less proudly than she had introduced him before.

‘Wine?’ Sophie asked Jake, with a smile just big enough to show the dimples in her cheeks.

‘Perfect,’ answered Jake and David in unison, smiling back at her.

Oh dear, thought Annie. Neither man was here for purely business reasons and Jake was after Sophie.

She took another swig of wine.

* * * * *

The table seating had not been officially planned, other than firmly in everyone’s minds. This led to the predictably polite yet predatory start to any dinner party. Guests moved with feigned indifference towards the evening companion of their choice when they felt the meal was imminent. Then, when Sophie shrugged her pretty, round shoulders and said ‘Right then, shall we eat?’ various hands which had been hitherto happily clutching wine glasses suddenly shot out to the backs of chairs, claiming ownership. Gracious, grateful smiles all round indicated that everyone was happy. Except perhaps Victoria, who quite frankly, could have done better.

Sophie sat down first, followed speedily by Jake who claimed the seat opposite her. Fi followed immediately, seating herself at Jake’s right, followed swiftly by Tony opposite her. Annie and David both put on a valiant performance of ignoring the fact that they had no part to play in this game of musical chairs and, smiling bravely, proceeded to sit opposite each other. Victoria and Charles were left to fill the head and foot of the table. Victoria sat huffily down at the end in between Annie and David, feeling all the humiliation of being left till last. Charles placed himself next to Jake and Sophie, feeling hungry.

Annie couldn’t have found herself further away from Jake if she’d tried. Good, she thought. I can be calm here. And safe.

She was fast learning how it was going to be. She and Jake were to be in mixed company without ever mixing company. Jake was quite clearly not going to pay her the slightest bit of attention. Not a word would be spoken, not a glance exchanged, nor a reference made to allude to the fact that
he even knew she was in the room, let alone that he had once been willing to share his life with her.

Fine, she thought, filling up her wine glass. That was fine with her.

As the evening progressed, Annie came to the slow realisation that everyone was very, very dull. Especially when Fi and Sophie started drilling Jake on his career. It went on for what seemed like hours.

Eventually, she decided it was time to join in. It would make a nice change to hear her own voice this evening. Or in fact anyone’s other than Jake’s.

‘He’s ever so good at his job,’ she chimed in rather shrilly. ‘He’s going to sack 1,200 people from Markhams.’

Sophie and Fi’s eyes widened.

‘Wow!’ they chorused.

Victoria was notably impressed.

Annie frowned and took a sip of wine. That hadn’t worked.

Two minutes later, Fi and Sophie exploded into girlish giggles at something Jake said. Shit, thought Annie. I couldn’t giggle like that any more if I tried. God, they’re so young. It’s probably still a novelty for them to go to the toilet.

Because Jake was the centre of attention at the other end of the table, he became the centre of attention for the evening. Tony had started the evening competing with him, following every reference to business deals with an anecdote of his own. But he soon realised that his words were falling on deaf ears. He stopped competing and instead grew morosely and oppressively quiet. Fi and Sophie, blissfully unaware, teased, taunted and tested Jake, egged on by Charles, who found the show most enjoyable, and of course, had a vested interest.

‘When on earth do you have time for relationships, eh?’
asked Charles, putting into words what everyone else was wondering.

‘I don’t,’ replied Jake simply, with a short shrug.

‘Oh,’ murmured Sophie, taking some wine to hide her disappointment.

Jake realised he’d replied too hastily. ‘Well, I mean, I didn’t up until now,’ he rushed. ‘I mean, now that I’m working and living in the same area, my life is suddenly much simpler.’

‘Oh,’ murmured Sophie, taking some more wine to hide her relief.

Annie raised her eyebrows to heaven. Pathetic.

‘Who wants to play Pictionary?’ asked Fi suddenly.

There was a moment’s pause as everyone took in the change of subject, before a general opinion that this was a splendid idea.

Everyone moved contentedly into the cosy sitting room where brandy, port, chocolates and the boardgame Pictionary awaited them. The rules of the game were simple. Words, phrases and sayings had to be drawn to a fellow team member who had to guess what they represented. A correct guess meant progression round the board and the first team to get round the board won. Simple, light, harmless entertainment.

Right, thought Victoria. If I don’t win, I’ll divorce Charles.

‘Ooh! Pictionary!’ she exclaimed excitedly.

Everyone shrank slightly from her exuberance.

Charles started to feel uncomfortable. Please don’t let me be her partner, he started praying silently. I’ve disappointed her enough in life already.

‘Shall we get into teams?’ he asked hopefully. ‘Men against women?’

‘Oh no,’ said Sophie, ‘where’s the fun in that?’

‘Ah yes,’ mumbled Charles in reluctant agreement. ‘Where indeed?’

‘Couples!’ shrieked Fi. ‘I mean, pairs!’

Tony felt hopeful for the first time all evening when Fi then proceeded to grab his hand. He couldn’t help giving Jake a quick grin and was momentarily unnerved when Jake gave him a bigger one back.

‘Right, Charles,’ Victoria said to her increasingly pale husband, ‘we have to win this.’

‘Well, it’s not about winning, is it?’ he attempted bravely.

Victoria shot him a warning glance. Oh God.

There was only Jake, Sophie, David and Annie left. No one was in any doubt how this would work out and indeed, all it took was one quick glance between David and Annie, a slightly more lingering one between Jake and Sophie and the teams were decided.

‘Who’s going to keep an eye on the egg-timer?’ asked Fi. ‘Victoria always cheats—’

‘I beg your pardon?’

‘I mean – it always gets a bit—’

‘I’ll keep an eye on it,’ volunteered Charles. ‘Perhaps Victoria should join someone else’s team so I can do it properly.’

There was an outcry. Charles’s last attempt to keep control of the egg-timer (three years ago now) had resulted in pandemonium and at least one broken nose. He umpired almost as well as he drove.

‘No, Annie’s the egg-timer watcher,’ said Fi firmly. ‘She’ll keep us all in check.’ She winked at Annie.

‘Right you are,’ said Charles forlornly. It appeared his fate was set.

‘I’m Green,’ said Victoria. That was her lucky colour.

‘Oh damn, I wanted to be Green,’ said Jake, laughing. The room went silent.

He obviously didn’t know the rules.

‘I said it first,’ said Victoria, forgetting she was with strangers now.

Jake sensed the game had started already. ‘OK,’ he said easily. ‘You’re Green. It never suited me anyway.’

The others silently chose their colours and Annie picked up the dice, smiling inwardly. This game would certainly test Jake and David’s professionalism.

‘Right,’ she said calmly. ‘The highest number goes first. We’ll start on my right and go round the circle. Victoria, throw the dice.’

It suited Victoria to obey her sister so she picked up the dice, kissed it and threw it gently on to the boardgame.