Trophy Life (20 page)

Amy breathed a sigh of relief as she watched from her table. Along with Harry, she was seated with Giselle and James and two other older couples who were old friends of Andrea’s. Andrea’s empty seat was also on their table, ready for when the presentation was over.

Jinny Evergreen’s speech was incredibly moving. Despite her nerves, she spoke eloquently about the children, their plight and how the money they raised would be used. Her dedication was clear for all to see. Amy was overwhelmed with pride, both on Jinny’s behalf and for organising an event which was going to further this exceptional cause. So what if Julia thought they were pompous? Who cared if her mum didn’t consider this a proper job? She may not be being paid, but she was making a real difference for real people.

Clapping unreservedly as Jinny's speech ended, Amy caught Freddie’s eye across the room. They smiled at each other, clapping in time with one another. He nodded at her from where he stood in the kitchen doorway.

'Red or white?' asked a smooth sounding waiter from behind her. Amy turned and was about to request a red when the label caught her eye.

'Oh no, this isn’t the right bottle,' she said. 'There must be a couple of those by mistake. We ordered the house wine.'

'All the red we have is like this,' the waiter replied, looking a bit concerned. He was young, maybe eighteen and Amy imagined he had just picked up one of the hotel’s bottles.

'No, they look alike, but this is Chateau Laffite. The one for the tables is Chateau Magnifique.' She smiled sympathetically. 'Don't worry.'

She was certain it was his mistake. She had checked the order herself before it went, but there was no need to make him feel bad. She would fix it. Calmly she asked the waiter to go and check with Jemima. But when he returned, he only reaffirmed what he had said a few moments earlier; that all of the red wine was Chateau Laffite. 

Feeling the first hint of a chill sweep down her spine, Amy stood up and excused herself before going to find Jemima. She showed her all of the wine lined up in the kitchen, with crate after crate bearing the elegantly inscribed Chateau Laffite label.

'It matched the order,' Jemima said, showing her a copy of the receipt and order papers. But Amy could barely focus on the words. Her head was spinning. This couldn’t be right. She wracked her brain to try to remember the cost of the Chateau Laffite. It had been over £100 a bottle, some of the vintages had been even more. And she was facing crate loads of the stuff.  What would this mean for the amount they had raised for the charity? Would it reduce it significantly? Might they have wiped out any donation at all?  She shuddered. They might even owe money.

Amy's mind crackled with possible solutions, which it threw out and discarded wildly, frantically. Could they retract all of the wine quickly and replace it with something else? She peered out of the kitchen at all of the wine already poured. Not that they had anything to replace it with. 

With her head in her hands Amy started to think about how this could possibly have happened. She had approved the order herself. She had approved it and given it to -

Her head jerked up and she stalked out into the hall straight to Olivia’s table. Smiling through gritted teeth she asked Olivia to join her in the kitchen, which she did with infuriating languor, sauntering slowly as Amy practically sprinted.

'Yah,' said Olivia as she looked at the crates before her, 'That’s Chateau Laffite.'

'But I asked for the Chateau Magnifique.'

'Oh no. What a shame.' Olivia's expression as she lifted her wine to her lips was completely innocent, but Amy thought she saw a glint in her eye.

Could she have done this on purpose? Right now Amy didn’t have the time to consider it. She had an event to run and some serious explaining to do to Andrea. In any event, standing where they were in the kitchen they were creating a fault in the ant line of waiters migrating with platters of starter plates.

As Olivia slinked back to her table, Amy was left standing by the kitchen doorway, holding onto the frame for support, desperately wondering what to do. Who could help her? She looked over at Harry who was deep in conversation with Giselle and James and realised she didn’t want to ask him for help.

'Amy, there’s a teeny problem developing in the lobby.' It was Esther, looking like a fish gaping in shock at being taken out of water.

'Esther I’m really sorry, but I have a teeny problem developing
here
.' Amy had just finished the sentence when a crash of enormous proportions sounded from the direction of the entrance. Amy quickly took in Esther’s 'I told you so' expression before half-running, half-strolling her way to the lobby, attempting but failing to look casual. As she rounded the final corner, she saw the source of the crash, a large high vase of lilies, now spread on the floor in an artful splatter.

'Why the hell did I think I should get back with you? I must have been out of my frigging mind!' Amy saw a gesticulating Miles Slater confronting a rather rumpled Binky Hijinx.

'Frigging? Who says ‘frigging’? Miles, for a rock star you really are a loser.'  Binky truly couldn’t look less interested if she tried.

'I mean, who is this bloke? I always thought you shagged around, but I’m pretty sure this is a random waiter.' Amy looked in the direction that Miles was signalling and now spotted a slightly sheepish figure attempting to slink away. Upon inspection, she guessed he was the car valet rather than one of the waiting staff. 'The least you could do is be a bit picky. I mean have you got a clue what this would do for my reputation? I am
Miles Slater
for goodness sake. I can’t have my girl be cheating on me with randoms.'

'Oh I am so sick of hearing about your reputation,' Binky intoned, eyes to the celling in exasperation. 'You
garden
Miles. You have a model train set. That’s hardly smashing up TV’s in hotel rooms, is it?' Amy was impressed by the fact that, even throughout what was supposed to be an argument, Binky still managed to keep her eyes firmly fixed on her phone screen.

Amy was just wondering whether she should be doing something and, if so, what, when Binky simply sauntered off, leaving an infuriated Miles to storm off in the other direction. Hopefully that would be the end of it. She told Esther to arrange for a barrier to go up immediately so nobody was hurt by the glass, to make sure the staff cleared it up promptly and made a silent note to ensure they compensated the vase owner, which was probably one of Freddie’s suppliers.

She felt a sense of command until she remembered that this wasn’t the end of her problems. Not even close. There was still the issue of the wine to contend with. What was she going to do? The whole event was intended to raise money for The Children’s Fund. What if this meant that all of the money was gone? She could feel her heartbeat quicken, racing faster and faster as more realisations dawned on her, none of them sequential or helpful. She felt a tap on her shoulder and turned to see Freddie. She almost collapsed with relief.

'Jemima just told me,' he said, his face a picture of concern.

'Oh Fred. The money. The charity.' The panic was creeping over her again, surrounding her like a sandstorm. Everything was turning cloudier and she couldn’t see beyond it. 'Has it all gone? Was this all for nothing? What will I tell Andrea? And Jinny? They had plans for that money.' Her voice cracked as she said the final words, her head down as she felt her knees start to buckle.

The first she knew of Freddie's closeness to her was feeling the warmth of his breath and the pressure of his grasp as he supported her arm. He moved her to one side, whispering, 'Don’t let this get to you. These things happen. Breathe slowly. There must be a way to fix it. We’ll fix it.'

She wasn’t sure why. Maybe it was the slow tempo of his voice, maybe the calmness of his words, maybe just his presence, but she sensed her breathing slow and even out. She leaned against a counter top which was now beside her. Tightly closing her eyes and tilting her head back, she tried to think.

How much money had been spent on the wine? Could they return it? Not necessarily. She certainly couldn’t count on that. She had to do something now. Everyone had come here tonight to raise money. There must be a way to make more.

Her head whipped forwards and she opened her eyes wide. 'I have an idea. I have no clue if it’s enough, but it’s something. But we need something to replace the remaining red wine.'

'Ok, don’t worry, I’ll take care of that,' Freddie said. 'The hotel always has some house stuff spare. What’s the idea?'

Ten minutes later, Andrea was standing at the podium again, this time announcing an impromptu auction of the remaining bottles of Chateau Laffite.

'Let’s start with the first crate. Any takers?'

In a room with several multimillionaires all looking to be seen as the most philanthropic, the price went higher and higher. There was laughter and excitement as people shouted out their bids, with Andrea slipping seamlessly into the role of auctioneer. Amy thought it would have been fun had it not been so terrifying at the same time. Thirty minutes later, all of the crates sold, she breathed a sigh of relief. Amy still wasn’t sure where it had left them on a balance sheet but it had to be a huge improvement on where they had been before.

The band was on stage again and people were dancing enthusiastically, while others chatted at the tables. Binky and Darcy were by the bar with Kitty Hijinx, talking to a pair of good looking men who Amy recognised from the Splish Splash party. One of them had been called James, she remembered. Amy considered that the room really did look incredible. She walked around, talking to various members of the Society and their husbands and partners. Many had brought their extended families.

The younger women congratulated her on 'spicing things up' and a 'hot night' while Lady Fenella grabbed her by the arm with surprising force, looked up at her and said, 'Well done. I was getting so sick of the dinner. If I had to eat one more prawn cocktail I would have screamed. This is much better.'

Amy had just finished talking to some of the older club members when she saw her. To be precise, she saw the back of her, but that was all it took: The rigid stance, the wide shoulders, that limp black hair. Jackie, her old supervisor, was standing next to table ten, cocktail in hand. It took Amy a few moments before she realised, to her horror, that she was in deep conversation with Olivia and Darcy.

Amy froze. Her past. Her training contract. Her mistake. It had all felt so distant since she left that she could almost pretend it had never happened. Wipe the slate clean. She certainly did her best never to think about it anymore. Yet there it was, embodied singularly and terrifyingly in front of her in the unprepossessing form of her old boss. 

Could she avoid her? Just pretend she didn’t know she was there? Why not? There were hundreds of guests. In fact, Amy found herself wondering how it was she hadn’t known Jackie was coming. She knew that guest list back to front. Maybe she was someone’s plus one? Amy shuddered at that possibility.

'Amy! Yoo hoo!' The shrill voice of Darcy broke into Amy’s thoughts like the horn of a ship disturbed the silence of the ocean. Oh no. It was definitely Darcy, calling her over, waving energetically. Darcy who, completely obliviously, was cheerfully summoning her to the lion’s den.

She thought about fleeing, but that seemed about as realistic as the ground swallowing her up in that moment. After all, where would she flee? The room was so crowded she wouldn’t get very far and she may end up just causing a scene. So, like a hapless chunk of space rock being inevitably pulled into a giant black hole, Amy felt herself propelled towards the group, an automatic smile plastered onto her face. As she approached, both Olivia and Jackie noted her, her presence inciting different reactions in each.

Olivia was swollen with smugness, clearly still ecstatic at Amy’s earlier panic about the wine. In fact, as Amy finally reached the group, Olivia couldn’t help but mention it.

'Jackie, this is Amy,' she trilled. 'Amy is the mastermind behind this evening. Hasn’t she done a super job for her first time? Of course it hasn’t been without the odd mishap. Is everything alright since your little mistake?'

Amy bristled. Here she was, in front of Jackie and she wanted her to think that she was doing brilliantly. Simply super. She wanted Jackie to imagine that law had just been a blip in Amy’s life. A misstep. And that since then, she had found her way.  Instead, Jackie would now think that Amy stumbled from one mistake to the next. To say it was humiliating was an understatement.

'Actually Amy and I know each other,' Jackie said. 'How are you?'

Amy hadn’t been able to look at Jackie’s face properly until now. She was so shocked by her being there and so overwhelmed by the possibility of what it could mean that she hadn’t been able to, but now she forced herself to meet her eyes. When she did, she saw a malevolence she never thought possible: A smiling, leering anger that simmered just beneath a serene exterior, but so close you could touch it.

'I’m well thanks,' Amy croaked. She knew she should ask the same in reply, but couldn’t. Was this really happening? Surely it was too surreal.

'Really?' This cheery question was from Olivia who, sensing possibilities, prodded for more. 'How do you know each other?'

'Amy worked for me,' Jackie said evenly. Now that Amy and Jackie’s eyes had met, it was like they were bonded together; they didn’t seem to be able to look away. 'She was my trainee actually,' Jackie continued.