One Day in May - Catherine Alliott [122]
Ralph snorted with delight. Whispered in my ear: ‘Rather sets the tone for the evening, doesn’t it? They’re far friskier than us Londoners, you know. He’ll be shacked up with someone else’s wife before the night is through. Oh, hello, what did I tell you?’
Following the florid one in, we watched as indeed he lost no time in accosting a tall, buxom lady in a low-cut turquoise dress by the door. As he slipped an arm around her waist he growled, ‘Evening, Fiona. What fucks like a tiger and winks?’
‘Gerald!’ she brayed. ‘I’ve no idea!’
He gave her an extravagant wink, then swaggered off to the drinks tray. She broke into peals of delighted laughter.
Ralph rolled his eyes at me. ‘See? I rest my case.’
I grinned and glanced around the room. It was heaving already, noisy too. Despite the throng, the first person I saw, looking gorgeous in his dinner jacket, on the other side of the room talking to an elderly gent, was Hal. He must have changed here, I thought. He’d been in jeans in the garden. Was he staying, then? Which bedroom, I wondered. Which bedroom, Hattie? And which one of these lovelies was his intended? His affianced. For lovely they all were, the women, and I don’t know why that surprised me. The hair was much longer than in London, clothes different too – more glamour, less restraint. Fashion rules seemed to have been thrown away. If it was sexy – wear it, seemed to be the code. There was more velvet, more jewellery, higher complexions from hunting, firmer thighed too, I suspected under those silky evening dresses. I felt slightly pale and underdressed in my simple Armani shift and kitten-heel shoes. These women were high of heel and low of cleavage, tanked up, and as Ralph had rightly observed, raring to go.
‘Some people have come a long way,’ Laura had remarked to me earlier, ‘so we party hard.’ I could believe it.
Across the noisy, braying heads I spotted Letty, in a low-cut, fuchsia-pink number. Her cheeks were flushed, eyes overbright. She gave me an extravagant wave.
‘Oo-oh!’ she shrieked, muscling through. ‘How lovely! You look terrific!’
Her cheeks were boiling as she kissed me. I had a feeling she was well oiled already.
‘Have you seen Hal?’ she yelled. ‘I gather you two met in France – had dinner even!’
‘Um, yes.’ I flushed, glancing round warily and hoping Céline wasn’t in earshot. ‘Well, supper, really. Just to – you know – catch up.’
‘Oh, I do know,’ she roared, with massive innuendo and a sharp dig in the ribs. She was clearly disastrously pissed. I began to feel a bit panicky. So loud.
‘Um, lovely to see you, Letty, but I’m just going to catch Seffy. Won’t be a mo.’
‘Oh, Yes, I saw Seffy earlier, helping the girls. Someone pointed him out. Isn’t he divine? No wonder Cassie can’t stop talking about him! She’s so annoyed she can’t get out this weekend – bloody schools.’
I gazed at her as Seffy came up with a bottle of champagne, butler for the evening.
‘Top up, Mum?’
‘Thanks, darling.’ I said, distractedly, still looking askance at Letty.
‘Where’s your glass then?’
I turned. Came to. ‘Oh. I haven’t got one yet.’
He rolled his eyes. ‘Does help. Oi, Biba!’ He beckoned to his cousin, who was bobbing about with a tray of full glasses. She pushed across as Letty moved on.
‘Hi, Hattie,’ she grinned, offering me a drink. ‘Don’t you love the outfit?’ She and Daisy had dressed as French maids for the evening, in killingly funny little skirts, bibs and mop caps. She dropped a curtsy, eyes lowered. ‘Ma’am.’
‘Love it,’ I assured her, rallying.
‘We tried to get Seffy to put Dad’s tail coat on, but he wouldn’t.’
‘I don’t want to look like a bloody Etonian.’ Seffy moved off with the bottle.
‘And, by the way, I think your ex is gorgeous,’ Biba hissed in my ear. ‘Mummy told me you went out with him at university.’ Her eyes roved across the room as I coloured.
‘Well, no. Not strictly true.’
‘But fancied his brother more, who was married to Letty!’ She pulled a face. ‘I think this one’s way better looking. I’ve seen pictures of the famous