Ralph's Party (35 page)

In the general atmosphere of hatred, jealousy, lust, embarrassment and shock, no one had noticed Karl, whose face was slowly turning from a pale lobster-pink to a bright, lurid crimson and whose large frame was filed with so much anger and rage he looked like he might explode like a microwaved sausage at any moment.

'What the FUCK is going on?' he began, slowly and deliberately, looking directly at Cheri. 'Is this some sort of FUCKING joke?'

This was said almost silently except for the final 'fucking' which was belowed so loudly that they al jumped from their skins and clutched their throats.

The group turned towards Karl. Cheri put out one nervous hand towards his arm. 'Calm down, Karl. It's not what you think. I promise you, you'l understand ...'

Karl jerked his arm away from her touch. 'You FUCKING SLAG.

Don't you fucking touch me. JESUS! I feel sick. Isn't it enough that you destroyed my life?' He leaned in towards Cheri, who cowered into Ralph's shoulder, and began spitting into her face. 'Now you're going to destroy this fela's life too...' He pointed viciously towards Ralph.

'Now, mate, come on ...' Ralph tried to intervene with an outstretched arm. Karl swiped it away like it was ar. annoying fly. He was approaching boiling-point.

'No, mate,
you
come on. I don't know what the fuck; going on here, but I don't like it. Not one bit. Is this al a joke, huh? Is that it?

Why did you realy invite me here tonight? Did thisBlTCHput you up to it?' he snarled

'Karl, please! I promise you, it's not a joke. You'l see, Cheri beseeched, theatricaly, 'it's just not like that at al, it's because I care ...'

'WHAT!' Karl began to laugh, a deep, ominous, unpleasant laugh that made al three of them flinch. 'You! Care! You're incapable of caring about anyone or anything but yourself. You are the most selfish, self-centred, manipulative and evil woman it has ever been my misfortune to meet. You've already ruined my life once and I'm not going to stick around here while you and your "friends" entertain yourselves at my expense.' He slammed his empty glass down on a shelf. Thanks for the invite -
mate,'
he spat at Ralph.

'Please, Karl, don't leave — you can't leave now!' Cheri was desperately holding on to him. If he left now, then al her work would have been for nothing and she'd be stuck at a party she didn't realy want to be at, with a bunch of people she didn't even know, and she'd never be famous.

But Karl extricated himself from her grip, turned on his heel and began to stride through the room, knocking dahlings and It girls out of the way with his large elbows as he moved. The twittering and chattering had died down during the confrontation and everyone now fel silent, apart from one hooter-nosed idiot on the far side, who was so taken with the sound of his own voice that nothing, it appeared, could stop him talking.

Karl had almost reached the door when someone grabbed him from behind and spun him around. It was Smith, who had watched the whole sorry scene unfold in utter horror and had chased Karl uncertainly across the floor of the galery, through the gap in the crowd that Karl had left behind him, and to the door.

'Now listen here ...' he began.

Jem watched from the other side of the room and winced, thinking for the first time how sily Smith realy was. 'Now listen here' - it was the sort of thing that only a realy sily man would ever say. It would be entirely his fault if Karl were to walop him one.

'... now listen here. I don't know exactly what your problem is, but you are
way
out of order and I suggest you go back immediately and apologize to Cheri. That is no way to talk to a lady.'

Karl stared at Smith. He suddenly looked a lot taler than six foot and certainly a lot taler than Smith. His lip curled up in a Rottweiler-like sneer.

'That BITCH over there is no lady. And what - the fuck — has it got to do — with you?' he asked, poking Smith in the shoulder in what looked like an extremely irritating manner. 'Oh - don't tel me -

she's got you in her nasty little grip as wel, has she?' Karl laughed and pushed Smith gently away from him. 'Wel, good luck to you, mate, you'l need it.' Karl turned away and towards the door. .

Smith bridled a bit, looking as if he was seriously contemplating grabbing Karl's arm again and taking this argument outside, but was saved by the timely entrance, of another guest, a pretty blonde woman in a black coat and heels.

'Oh, my God! Siobhan!'

'Karl!'

'Christ! What ... what the ... what're you doinj here?'

'What are
you
doing here?'

1 don't know. Who invited you?'

'I don't know. Wasn't it you?'

'No.'

'I've got no idea.'

'Christ, Shuv, you look amazing. What happened to your hair?'

'I had it cut. Look, what the hel's going on? Whose party is this?'

Karl pointed at Ralph, who was watching with an open jaw at the far end of the room. Cheri had repositioned herself discreetly behind a pilar.

'His?' said Siobhan, her face contorted with confusion. 'But... why?

Who is he?'

'He's Ralph.'

'Oh, yes. Ralph. Of course. The invite. But who is Ralph?'

'That's
Ralph. He lives downstairs, Almanac Road. Remember?'

Siobhan struggled to recal. 'Oh, yes, but - why? I don't understand, Karl. What the fuck
is
this?'

Karl shrugged. 'I have no idea.' His frame relaxed, his face softened and he smiled. 'Jeez - who cares? Shuv, it's so good to see you. It is so good to see you...'

He petted her hands and grinned manicaly down at her.

Smith was stil standing behind him, his fists clenched, his hackles stil at attention. He turned to face the rest of the room, which had already grown bored, of the drama and resumed halted conversations as if

nothing had ever happened. What did you have to do to entertain these people? He looked down at his fists and unfurled them slowly, rubbing at the indents his fingernails had left in the palms of his hands. He straightened his tie, ran his fingers through his hair and began walking slowly back across the room, embarrassed that his attempt at a fight, his only ever attempt at a fight, had been staled like that in front of a room ful of Ralph's twattish friends.

He headed straight towards Cheri, who had now emerged from behind the pilar, and put an arm protectively around her shoulder, rubbing gently at the bare skin under his hand. His heart raced. She felt exactly as he'd expected her to feel — like silk spun from the thread of the silkiest silkworm that ever lived.

'Are you al right?' he asked in his best sensitive and caring voice.

Cheri nodded glumly. 'Yes,' she said, 'but I suppose after everything I've done, I deserved it.' She looked away poignantly.

'What! Don't be ridiculous. He was drunk. He had no idea what he was talking about.' Smith was quite beside himself with indignation.

'No, Smith - realy. He was absolutely right about me. It's al true.'

'No!' Smith made them al jump with the ferocity of his dissension.

'He's mad. Realy, Cheri. Don't you pay any attention to him.'

Cheri sighed and Smith continued to rub the smal patch of lustrous skin that lay just beneath his thumb. It was the best piece of skin he'd ever touched; he could quite happily rub it al night.

'Look, Smith,' Cheri continued, 'I told you al this -

don't you remember? — at Oriel? Al about my past, my problems with men.'

Jem stiffened and gripped her glass in her fist as if she was arm wrestling it. Smith finaly stopped rubbing Cheri's shoulder and let his hand drop to his side, aware of Jem's existence seemingly for the first time that day. Ralph flinched and looked away. It was starting.

He hooked his hand through Jem's arm and deftly began to wheel her away from Cheri and Smith.

'Jem, let me give you a personalized tour of my exhibition — a true honour for you.' He smiled cheesily and dragged her away, just as she was beginning to open her mouth to say something. Jem didn't resist. Oriel? What? Smith didn't know Cheri. What the hel was happening? Why was he being so protective of her? What did he know about her? Al that thumb-rubbing and concern and al those compliments about her dress and her hair. And, anyway, wasn't Ralph supposed to be with Cheri?

'Ralph,' she asked in a smal, confused voice, 'what the fuck is going on here?'

Ralph was beginning to feel a little guilty now, but not in a bad way

- a bit like a vet giving an injured animal a painful injection. This was for Jem's good; she might not like it at the moment, but she'd appreciate it in the long run. He put his hands on her shoulders and steered her towards the front of the galery.

'I dunno,' he laughed, 'it's just one of those nights, I guess/

Jem's head was in too much turmoil to demand a more articulate response and she let him move her around like a mannequin. What was al that business with the couple from upstairs - that Irish D J

guy and his

ex-girlfriend? They were standing together now at the door, Siobhan giving Karl a little twirl to show off her new figure, Karl grinning from ear to ear, looking like he'd never been happier in his life. And what did he have to do with that Cheri girl? And how did Ralph know Cheri? And Smith? And ... and ... and ... oh, God. Jem felt quite giddy. Up until this evening Jem had thought that Cheri was just the girl who lived on the first floor, the one she'd had that chat with ages ago, the one who used to be a dancer, the one who was getting married. Yes, that's right, she was getting married wasn't she? And now she was Ralph's date, Karl's enemy and Smith's ... Smith's what? And she certainly didn't seem to be getting married any more. She glanced across the room and saw that Smith had placed his hand back on Cheri's shoulder and was whispering into her ear, his groin twisted pointedly towards her thigh, his eyes glued to her face. Cheri was smiling and laughing and looking very coy.

'Jem? Jem, are you al right?' Ralph was leaning into her face and staring into her eyes, looking concerned.

Yeah... sure... I'm fine.' She tore her gaze from the unpleasant and unsettling little scenario; she couldn't deal with al this right now.

Besides, she had Ralph to herself for a few moments and he was about to show her his paintings, which, in al the drama, she hadn't even glanced at yet. She took a deep breath.

Ralph was stil staring into her eyes. He opened his mouth as if he was about to say something, closed it and opened it again. 'I know I've already said this, Jem - but I'm going to say it again anyway.

You look drop-dead gorgeous. You realy do. That dress is ...

stunning. And I love, absolutely
love,
al these little roses in your hair.' He touched one gently with a fingertip. You are, without a doubt, the most beautiful woman in this room. I'm so glad we're friends again — so glad.' He picked up her hand and gently kissed the back of it.

'Oh, Ralph, so am I. I realy missed you, you know.1 Jem blushed and giggled and kissed the back of his hand too, feeling immediately that this was an embarrassing thing to have done, clearing her throat and turning away to hide her blush. 'So, er, are you going to show me these famous paintings of yours, then?'

Damn Ralph, she thought, always sending me into these paroxysms of confusion.

Ralph flushed slightly, pleased as punch with the little damp patch on the back of his hand that Jem had left there with her lovely soft lips.

'OK.' He placed one hand gently on her waist and pointed her towards the first painting. This one's caled "Pink Lipstick and Peonies".'

Jem gasped and put her hand over her mouth. 'Ralph - that's - is that? It's me, isn't it?' She spun around towards him with wide eyes.

It was a smal portrait, rich in colour and detail, a close-up of Jem's face wearing a huge, open smile that showed al her teeth, her head surrounded by a bed of pink, purple and mauve flowers in ful bloom.

Ralph nodded and steered her towards the next painting.

It was Jem again, head and shoulders this time, in a field of shiny red and green chilies. The next one was of Jem, and the next, and the next. There were stil lifes, too, of flowers and spices and chilies. Jem suddenly felt embarrassed and self-conscious.

'Ralph...' she began.

'Shhhhh' - Ralph put a finger to her lips - 'just look -just enjoy.' And there she was, just as he'd envisaged, twisting her head this way and that, peering at the captions, turning towards him every now and then with a quizzical look on her face that said 'You're mad,' but that was also ful of affection, wonder, excitement and, he was absolutely sure of it, love.

'So, is there any particular reason why you didn't tel Jem about our little drink at Oriel at Christmas?'

Smith looked momentarily nonplussed and scratched his chin. 'Oh, but I did. I guess she just forgot,' he sniggered, and pushed his hands deeper into his pockets,

'Hmmm.' Cheri let it pass. 'She's a lovely girl, isn't she? I bumped into her once, outside the house and we had a little chat. I thought she was gorgeous.'

Yeah. Yeah. I suppose so.'

'It's funny, because we spent al that time talking at Oriel and you didn't mention her once ...'

'Wel...'

'Quite gave me the impression you were single, actualy.'

Yeah, wel

'Which is a shame, because I sort of hoped that you would be.' She circled the rim of her glass with one long, brown finger. 'We got on very wel that night, didn't we?'

Smith's eyebrows shot up to his forehead and he stood up straight.

'Oh, God -1 mean, Jem and me - it's nothing serious, realy.'

That's not what she told me.'

'Huh?'

'That time I chatted to her outside the house. That's not what she told me. She told me al about her dreams

and how you and she were - how did she put it? -destined, that's right,
destined
to be together.'

'Wel, Jem's very sweet but she can be a bit-' He puled an extraordinary face involving crossed eyes, a protruding tongue and an index finger circling around his temple, then snorted and shoved his hands back into his trouser pockets.