He ordered us both a brandy and he pulled out a bar stool for me to perch on, but I shook my head politely. I’d been sitting for the last two-and-a-half hours, I didn’t want to sit again already. He sat on it instead and pulled me in between his legs in an intimate stance. Positioning his hands on my hips, he pulled me in close enough to talk over the noise. The band was setting up, as the waiting staff transformed the dining room into a dance floor, dragging tables and chairs discreetly to the side of the room.
‘Are you having a good night, girl?’
‘I’m having a great time, thank you for bringing me.’
As I leaned into him, I caught sight of the blond over his shoulder. Her burning stare depicted disbelief, so much so thatI felt compelled to look away and pretend I hadn’t noticed her. I squeezed John’s arm to alert him just before she tapped him on the shoulder roughly.
‘I don’t know who the hell you think you are,’ she spat at him.
He turned around, and annoyance flashed over his features at the disruption. ‘Jennifer,’ he acknowledged her curtly.
‘You think you can treat people like shit and get away with it,’ she snapped.
‘If you want to talk about treating people like shit, I’m not the one here shouting and causing a scene,’ he said quietly, calm in contrast to her angry demeanour.
‘You will learn the hard way, my dear.’ Her tone dripped with sarcasm as she pointed her spindly finger in my face. ‘You’re no better than any of the rest of us,’ she said, rage moving through her shaking hands.
‘Excuse me.’ John stood up from the bar stool and towered above her, positioning himself in front of me protectively. ‘Don’t you dare talk to my girlfriend like that. You know nothing about us,’ he hissed.
People were beginning to stare; heads turned and conversations nearby halted. The couple next to us nudged each other and John eyed them pointedly until they looked away.
‘She’ll find out what you’re like, John Kelly. The hard way. And maybe that’s exactly what she deserves.’ She stormed off as thunderously as she had arrived.
John shook his head in disgust at her. ‘Some people have no class,’ he said calmly, though a few tell-tale beads of sweat lingered on his forehead. ‘Where were we?’ he said, placing his hands on my waist again.
‘What is her problem?’ I asked him.
‘She a complete nutter. A stalker.’
‘Why is she still bothering you?’ I asked, confused.
‘I have no idea. She’s a little obsessed, although I have no idea why.’
‘Is it always going to be this way?’ I whispered trying not to let my emotions get the better of me. Not easy, especially considering how much I’d had to drink already.
‘What way?’ he asked.
‘Me wondering if every woman in the room is a frog? If every woman has a story to tell about my boyfriend?’ Tears threatened the corner of my eyes.
‘Lucy.’ He took me in his arms. ‘How many times do I have to tell you there was no one that meant anything to me before you? Especially not her. I swear on Harley’s life.’ He attempted to make light of the situation while simultaneously reminding me of the commitment of the dog. He was good, I’d give him that.
The band began to play their version of The Lumineers “Ho Hey” and he led me to the dance floor and put his arms around me. I felt better. It was the newness that threw me. I wasn’t used to the whole town knowing our business and people like her forming an opinion on us.
‘Let’s get another drink,’ I suggested as I clocked Jane and Trisha at the bar.
I felt tired, although the party was really only beginning to get started. The months of travelling and worrying were catching up with me. I was physically and mentally drained. I’d have loved nothing more than to crawl under the covers with John, but he was preoccupied with the two Michaels, discussing the potential benefits of getting the three houses re-insulated at the same time, with a foam job in between the walls.
‘I’m going to the ladies’ room,’ I told Jane, turning away.
‘I’ll come with you,’ she said, having witnessed the heated exchange only an hour earlier.
We walked together through the throng of gyrating merry guests on the dancefloor. The toilets were packed, the queueextended out the door. We got in line with the others. The band began to play a few Christmas songs, which could be clearly heard from the toilets.
‘Are you ok?’ Jane asked tentatively.
‘Just tired. I feel like the weeks are catching up on me,’ I confided.
‘Is it any wonder? But you will have a lovely Christmas. Once you get your things over, you can unpack and settle properly. And we’ll get a good few nights organised over Christmas so you won’t get the chance to get homesick,’ she promised.
