Playing by the Rules (4 page)

Driving through the gates of her old school did nothing to relieve her worries. What had possessed the organisers to hold it there? Did anyone really need to hear the echoes of excruciating Year Ten socials? Kate certainly didn’t. The memories of that Kate, brainy but awkward, only mildly spotty but still dateless, was precisely what the New Kate wanted to suppress – or preferably expunge – from her memory and everyone else’s.

But how she was going to do that in a setting that brought it all back was beyond her. The mere thought of the gym, which somehow always managed to be simultaneously sweaty and cold, was enough to bring her out in an anxiety rash. As they left the car and walked towards it, Kate could feel itches forming in places she knew she wasn’t going to be able to scratch. And she couldn’t help feeling that she was going to be massively overdressed.

But the gym was transformed.

Someone – or probably a team of someones – had strung the walls with what looked like thousands of fairy lights, then overlaid them with great swathes of filmy white stuff, completely obscuring the athletic instruments of torture that were normally their main feature.

The same magic-workers had draped the basketball hoops in sprays of little pin lights that sparkled like trailing stars, and tucked tiny posies into the backs of covers that hid the folding speech-night chairs. Tall candelabras stood around the edges of the room, and hundreds of short, fat candles in flowerpots nestled in floral arrangements on the tables. It was elegant. It was magnificent. And it couldn’t have looked less like a high school gym.

She turned to Jo.

‘How did this happen?’

Jo grinned at her.

‘Do you like it? That’s why I wanted us to come a bit early, so you could get the full effect without too many people here. I knew it was going to be fantastic.’

‘But how —? I know this is my first reunion but I don’t think they’re normally like this. Are they?’

In reply, Jo pointed to the opposite side of the room, where a shortish woman was laying down the law to a posse of waitstaff, all very smartly dressed in head-to-toe black.

‘One of our old classmates has an event management company now. A rather successful one. Do you recognise her?’

Kate looked. At first glance, it wasn’t anyone she remembered. But then, no-one could possibly have looked like that while still at school. For a start, not many schoolgirls were that well endowed. This woman had filled out well past the proportions favoured by Hollywood, but rather than hiding behind baggy clothes she had clearly decided to flaunt what she had.

Even from the other side of the room, she was a knockout. It wasn’t just the hand-made corset or the frankly magnificent bosom that it was making the most of. It wasn’t the laced ankle boots peeking from beneath the froth of petticoats. Her outfit was three parts steampunk, two parts dominatrix and five parts fabulous, but that wasn’t what riveted Kate’s attention. It was the woman herself. As she briefed her almost slavishly attentive troops, energy and confidence radiated from her with the force of sunbeams, dazzling and delighting in equal measure. Then she turned towards their side of the room and Kate’s mouth dropped open.

‘Is that
Belinda
?’

Jo chuckled. ‘Sure is. We see quite a lot of each other now. She hires art from me for her events sometimes. She’s come into her own, hasn’t she?’

If there was an award for understatements, Jo would have been a hot contender at that moment. Kate had always been friendly with Belinda, but the girl she remembered was a chubby, shy, miserable goth who spent most of her hours at school hiding behind her hair. Kate had been wondering why anyone would have gone to such trouble to transform the gym for one night, but now she began to understand. There couldn’t have been a clearer way to make the point that things were not the same as they had been at school.

Kate felt her itches start to subside. Things
weren’t
the same as they had been. She might not look as different as Belinda did, but she wasn’t a gawky teenager any more and she didn’t need to feel like one. So she had just been dumped, but no-one had to know that. She had a great outfit and a handsome escort. She pulled back her shoulders, accepted a champagne from one of the snazzily dressed waiters and took a sip. It was surprisingly good. Another good omen. Maybe she could pull off this reunion thing after all.

Then a silky voice slid into her ear and burst every last bubble in her champagne.

‘Well,
hello
there! Kate, isn’t it? Look at you! You haven’t changed a bit!’

Kate forced a smile and looked up. ‘Up’ because the voice was coming from a woman who was a good inch taller even than Jo (whose nickname had been giraffe, back in the days when they gave each other nicknames). Ten years hadn’t diminished her height or, apparently, her talent for insulting with completely innocuous-sounding words.

This dubious talent had tricked a lot of the teachers when they’d been at school together, and it seemed to have fooled Jo’s date now. Matt was looking at the newcomer’s cascade of blonde hair and long legs with frank admiration, seemingly oblivious to the chill emanating from the other two women. Catching a glimpse of Jo’s face out of the corner of her eye, Kate heard an invisible baseball umpire yell ‘Steee-rike
two!
’

Of course, it had
sounded
like a compliment. But from this particular girl’s mouth, what it really meant was, ‘Look at you! When we were at school, you were a bookish geek, and I was a goddess.
So
glad to see that the status quo hasn’t changed!’

She was also ignoring Jo, which was another thing that hadn’t changed. While Kate-baiting had been one of Crystal’s favourite sports in their schooldays, she had generally avoided tangling with Jo. Most people did. When it came to a battle of wits, Jo was always armed and dangerous. Where Kate would seize up and get tongue-tied in the face of Crystal’s honeyed attacks, Jo was likely to let fly with some barbs of her own. Proving that Kate wasn’t the only one who hadn’t changed, Jo spoke up now, with enough honey in
her
voice to swamp five queen bees.

‘Crystal!
Sooo
good to see you! Doesn’t your hair look lovely! But then, it always did, didn’t it? What colour
is
that, exactly? No, don’t tell me . . . I know . . . Clairol Ash Blonde! My cleaner uses that
exact
colour. She swears by it. So
close
to natural, and
so
reasonably priced.’

If you closed your eyes it could almost have been Crystal herself. Kate felt a giggle collide with the champagne in her throat and thought it best to keep her mouth shut. Crystal looked daggers at Jo, but contented herself with saying, with just the suggestion of a hiss, ‘My hair is
naturally
blonde, Josephine.’ Then she turned back to Kate.

‘Aren’t you going to introduce me to your date?’

And just like that, she administered the blow that sent Kate tumbling, head-first and helpless, down the slide of memory to the regions where she kept everything she most wanted to forget.

It was her final year formal. She wasn’t going to go. The friend she was supposed to go with had fallen ill and the thought of showing up dateless in front of Crystal and her cronies had been too much. But at the last minute, Jo had set her up with one of her cousins.

Once, Kate had fantasised about going to her Year Twelve dance with Josh. But she’d never really believed it would happen and when the formal finally arrived he was already working overseas. Jo’s cousin wasn’t as good-looking as her brother, but then, very few were and he was available and willing. And she didn’t really want to miss it. So she had gone with him.

And Crystal had stolen him.

Not to keep, of course. That wasn’t her style. It was the conquest she enjoyed. But after being asked to be introduced – in exactly the same words as she had just used – she had tucked him under her arm and taken him away. She had spent half the night dancing with him and he had spent the other half watching her and, worse, talking about her.

The memory was one Kate thought she had got over years ago. The ritual effigy burning she’d done with Jo had helped. But now, with Crystal gazing at Josh with lust in her eyes and a smile that was pure piranha, it was back, in all its humiliating glory, and her embryonic bravado was draining out of her as if it were water and she’d suddenly become a sieve.

But then Josh’s arm slid around her waist.

It was completely unexpected – and had an even more unexpected effect. His encircling arm warmed her, physically and emotionally, and the frozen horror brought on by the dreadful memory began to thaw. The holes in her bravado closed over and she discovered a wellspring of strength that she had never before felt in the face of Crystal’s hostility. Rather than a horrific re-enactment, the situation felt like a chance to finally stand up to this cow. Kate smiled sweetly at her old nemesis.

‘Of course, Crystal. This is Josh Marchant, but he’s not just my date. He’s . . .’ She paused and looked up at Josh’s face in a way she hoped looked coy, but was in fact a plea for him to play along. Had Jo explained enough? He smiled down at her and gave the tiniest of nods.

‘Her fiancé,’ he said, playing the game like a champion. For the first time, Kate understood why they called sportspeople heroes. ‘Nice to meet you.’

He extended his hand to Crystal, but the smile he turned to her didn’t reach his eyes. Evidently he was more sensitive to atmosphere than Matt. Or he had a really good memory. Or both.

For a wonderful moment, it seemed that Crystal had been beaten. But you don’t get to be queen bee (or queen cockroach, as Jo said later) by taking defeat lying down. Switching her target, she addressed Jo; the first time in living memory she had done so willingly.

‘Marchant? Can this be
your
brother, then, Josephine?’ Her tone implied that she would have sooner expected to find a looker like Josh related to a gargoyle than to Jo. ‘Where
have
you been hiding him? Some of your other friends might have wanted a chance with him.’

She shot a seductive glance over her shoulder at Josh. Apparently, she was so convinced of her own irresistibility, it hadn’t occurred to her that he would be anything other than delighted by her obvious interest. Her sensitivity to atmosphere was obviously on par with Matt’s.

‘Hiding him? Oh, I wouldn’t say I have been
hiding
him. He does travel a lot, of course, but I would have said that all of my
friends
,’ the emphasis was slight, but unmistakeable, ‘have had ample opportunity to meet him.’ She flashed Crystal a smile that was all teeth and insincerity, and went on, before she had a chance to reply. ‘Besides, my
dear,
’ Jo was in Crystal-mode again, and Kate marvelled at the edge she had managed to put on a word that was usually a term of endearment, ‘you can’t seriously mean that you need
my
help to meet men? Oh, Crystal, don’t tease! We all know that you are
much
too gorgeous to still be on the shelf. I bet you’ve been married for years. Come on now . . . don’t hold out on us! Where’s your husband?’

Kate had to give Crystal points for poise under pressure. There was only the tiniest of pauses before she replied.

‘I’m not married, Josephine.’

‘Well, what do you know?’ Jo’s eyes widened in apparent amazement, although Kate was fairly certain that she had been able to see Crystal’s ringless left hand all along. ‘Who would ever have believed that Kate would have beaten you to that, as well?’ She shook her head wonderingly. ‘Oh well, in that case, you mustn’t waste your time on boring old us. If you’re still single there are bound to be scads of men
dying
to catch up with
you
. Why, your ex-boyfriends alone must run to dozens! We’d hate to hold you back. Go! Mingle! We positively
insist
!’

Crystal knew when to concede a battle. Pausing only to kiss Kate – which Kate assumed was mainly to give Josh a good close view of her cleavage, since she gave only the briefest of goodbyes to everyone else – she took the hint and went.

And somewhere inside Kate, some old hurts faded and in their place she felt the beginnings of something that might almost be called mojo.

Kate watched Crystal’s progress across the room with a mixture of relief, elation and amazement. Relief that she was gone, elation that she’d left without her trophy this time, and amazement that old grievances could still be so fresh in both heart and mind ten years after the event.

Josh seemed more amused than anything. Under the cover of his sister explaining to Matt (at some length) the background of the story, he murmured, ‘Penny for your thoughts.’ Kate looked up at him. ‘You seemed miles away.’

‘Oh! Sorry! It’s just . . .’ She trailed off, suddenly embarrassed.

‘Just what?’

‘Oh, it seems so silly, now. I just realised that meeting Crystal was one of the things I was dreading about coming to this reunion. Can you believe that? It was all so long ago!’ She shook her head, really feeling silly now that it was all over. ‘You’d think we’d all be old enough to know better!’

Josh smiled at her. ‘Well,
she
apparently isn’t. She doesn’t like you, does she?’

The residual tension from the encounter forced itself out of Kate in the form of a giggle. ‘No she doesn’t! She never did. And I never understood why. I didn’t do anything to her – not deliberately, anyway. It was as though I offended her just by existing.’ She shook her head, reflecting that there was another thing that had survived the ten years untouched: she still didn’t understand what made that girl tick. ‘Maybe it was the new-girl thing. I don’t know. But luckily, not everyone was like that. There were
some
people who liked me!’

For a reason unknown to Kate, it was suddenly very important to her that Josh know that not everyone hated her.

Now it was Josh’s turn to laugh. ‘Kate, relax! You don’t need to tell me that. Even if no-one else had
ever
liked you, I know my sister worships the ground you walk on and I trust her judgement more than I trust my own. Besides, I was there, remember? I knew you when you were at school.’

He looked straight into her eyes as he spoke and she was intensely aware that his arm was still around her, and that they were so close that she could feel the heat of his body through the thin fabric of her dress. Was it natural for his skin to be so hot? Or was it hers? Whichever, it felt to Kate as though, between them, they were generating enough heat to be a fire hazard.

With an effort that felt much bigger than it should have, she tore her eyes away from his and looked over her shoulder.

‘You know, Josh, Crystal’s gone now. You really don’t need to keep your arm around me.’ She hoped he didn’t know how hard she had to work to sound casual.

Josh pouted and the mischief was back in his eyes.

‘Now, Kate, is that any way to speak to your fiancé?’

Kate felt the heat in her face and wondered desperately how many times this man was going to make her blush in twenty-four hours.

‘Oh, Josh, don’t tease! You know I only said that for Crystal’s benefit. You don’t have to pretend when we’re alone.’

Josh put on a look of great seriousness as he shook his head.

‘Ah, no, my dear, that’s where you’re wrong.’

Kate felt her insides do a flip at ‘my dear’.

Immediately, her self-preservation instincts kicked in and she started rationalising as though her sanity depended on it – which, in the circumstances, it possibly did. Jo called her ‘hon’ all the time. Terms of endearment were obviously a family trait. It didn’t mean anything. But neither her insides, nor her cheeks, which were rosy
again
, seemed to be getting the message.

‘You’ve made your bed and now you must lie in it.’

It’s just a saying! It’s just a saying
! the self-preservation instincts chanted, like a mantra. But they might as well not have bothered. Kate’s insides had progressed from flips to full somersaults, she had become hotter
still
, and all she could do was hope fervently that he wouldn’t mention beds again any time soon.

‘You have claimed me as a fiancé. So for tonight at least . . .’

At least
? her mind echoed. With a sinking feeling, Kate realised that her self-preservation instincts had gone AWOL and apparently taken her better judgement with them. Now her thoughts had joined her body in responding to Josh in quite inappropriate ways. What would be next? She pressed her lips together so at least her tongue wouldn’t betray her.

‘. . . that’s what I must be. Because people will be watching.’

‘But —’ Kate began. Before she could get past the first word, Josh gently turned her around so she was looking in the same direction as he was. She didn’t need him to point out who he was looking at. She saw her, too. Crystal, giving them an evil look, over the heads of some people she was ostensibly talking to.

Perhaps it was the consciousness of having an audience. Perhaps it was the warmth of Kate’s bare shoulders under his hands. Or perhaps it was the sweet, flowery scent that seemed to be coming from her hair. Josh himself couldn’t have said with any certainty what prompted him – but in that moment, he forgot that he had promised his sister he would behave himself.

Slowly and deliberately, savouring the smoothness of her skin, he slid his hands from Kate’s shoulders to her waist. Then, before she had time to object, he put his arms around her, pulled her in so her back was snuggled against him, bent his head and kissed the nape of neck.

Kate told herself that he was doing it for Crystal’s benefit; that it didn’t mean anything; that she should ignore it. But streams of what felt like liquid flame were spreading through her body from where his lips had touched her skin and they were impossible to ignore.

It wasn’t as though her embattled self-preservation instincts weren’t trying. She could feel them, rummaging around furiously in her brain for something appropriate, something witty, something clever – anything, in fact – to say. But then he kissed her again, behind her ear, and the streams turned into rivers. Then the rivers turned into rapids, and started bubbling their way into some extremely interesting parts of her anatomy. With the feeling of a woman going under for the third time, she found she was rapidly losing the ability to think at all. She had already lost any inclination to insist that he keep his hands to himself.

For Josh, who had been half-expecting to be slapped, this was an extremely satisfactory result. Since he had inhaled the fragrance of her hair, he had more or less stopped thinking too and he wasn’t in any particular hurry to start again.

Of course, if anyone had asked, he would have said it was all about getting one up on Crystal. As it happened, he
did
have a good memory, and he had no trouble remembering the grief she had caused his sister and her friend. Why it should matter so much to him that she get her come-uppance at this late date, though, was something he chose not to examine too closely.

Nor did he choose to think about why he was so ready to be known as Kate’s fiancé. He, Josh Marchant, whose most serious long-term relationship had been with his car. Josh Marchant, self-proclaimed commitment-phobe, who had once
literally
left the country when a girl had started hinting at marriage.

All he knew was that, from the time he had held Kate that morning, he had had a very decided inclination to do it again. If this fiancé act gave him that excuse, he wasn’t about to waste the opportunity.

Fortunately for Kate, who was beginning to feel that she was not so much a fire hazard as actually on fire, a watching sibling can hose down the hottest of encounters. Having finally finished explaining things to Matt, Jo had got around to noticing the state of affairs between her brother and her friend. She didn’t say anything. She didn’t need to. She merely raised an eyebrow – but to her brother, it was obviously eloquent enough. Under its influence, Josh didn’t quite manage a blush, but he did release Kate, contenting himself with one last kiss for the top of her head and with shooting his sister a look that
dared
her to make something of it.

A silence descended on the group. Jo was still looking at her brother with the air of someone who was not going to make things easy for him. Josh was pretending not to notice. Matt was gazing curiously in Crystal’s direction, apparently trying to get his head around teenage female politics. And Kate had temporarily lost the use of her tongue, as well as her brain.

‘So, shall we mingle?’ Josh asked, eventually, of no-one in particular. His face wasn’t giving anything away, but he seemed disinclined to look directly at his sister or her best friend.

Kate thought mingling was an excellent idea, but since she imagined coherence was probably still beyond her, she settled for nodding. Matt was occupied with looking at his feet and muttering something that sounded like ‘Women!?! Sheesh!’ So it was left to Jo to actually answer Josh’s question.

‘Yes, brother dear, perhaps it is time to spread our charms around,’ Jo said, with another arch look, which Josh ignored. ‘I see some of my old art-class cronies over there and I really should catch up with them. You never know, one of them might be turning out stuff I can put in the gallery.’

As lucid thought returned to Kate, she marvelled that Jo could think of work at a time like this. But then, Jo was at least as committed to her art gallery as most people were to their partners. She was probably thinking about it all the time. Besides, Jo wasn’t the one trying to deal with a casual fling that felt anything but casual and a fake fiancé who seemed determined to act like a real one.

Kate accepted another champagne from a waiter with great timing and downed it in two gulps. It might only be counterfeit courage, but right now she’d take any sort she could get.

Jo smiled at her approvingly. ‘Go, Kate! We’ll make a party girl of you yet. Here, have another,’ she said, pushing her own fresh champagne into Kate’s hand. ‘I don’t need it. Places to go, people to see! I’ll see you two at dinner.’ And with that she was gone, cleaving through the sea of people like an elegant battleship on a mission, dragging Matt along in her wake.

Leaving Kate alone with Josh.