Despite the heartache and the torrential flood of tears, she had finally drifted to sleep, curled on her bed, hugging fluffy cushions with Muffin across her hair. The last traces of alcohol eventually dispersed into her bloodstream, sleeping away all the misery.
Her phone ringing had awoken her and disorientated, she clambered up, looking for the shrill tone to shut it off. Her phone was still in her bag in the kitchen where she had left it, and the walk-through barefoot fully woke her up.
Dammit.
She had a ton of missed calls from her mother and several texts from Abby. It was getting late and checking the time on the phone she realised she should be getting dressed for the party. It was incredibly late already, but she no longer wanted to go.
Calling her mother back and hearing the bright slurring tones and background noise, she realised that they had not left the fete to get ready but had followed the crowds into the manor straight from the activities as soon as the doors had opened. By yelling in the rear, Abby had informed her that most of the partygoers were still in shorts and sundresses and to hurry back just as she was. Abby also sounded suitably merry, her words slightly slurring. She was missing the time of her life.
She looked at her stained white dress and slid it off. Replacing it with a short black floaty dress that could be passed off as formal or casual with a change of shoes and make-up. She fixed her hair into a messy updo and reapplied her makeup to look sultrier and more formal than her daily light touch. She looked better, less tired and frayed. Even the bags under her eyes were temporarily absent after a decent amount of shut-eye.
She slipped on moderate heals but then thought better of the look, opting for flats and no jewellery. Didn’t want to overdo it if everyone else was still in their outdoor outfits. It was borderline casual/formal and gave her an air of sophistication. Garden party glam.
She did not feel up to this. However, the mirror told her otherwise. The memory of his kiss lingered on her lips, her heart still fragile. She pushed it all down deep into the pit of her stomach, closing off her mind and giving herself that mental shake she needed. She had been getting better at this. She couldn’t let her parents down. Or Abby!
Realising she could not drive, she caught a lift from passing partygoers heading to the party. They welcomed her into the car with bright smiles, complimenting how pretty she looked. All familiar faces scrubbed clean and sparkling for the night ahead. Despite the growing darkness, the fete was still busy with teens, younger kids, and the odd adult. Fairy lights illuminated the stands, and screams of delight were still to be heard. It would carry on for a while out here. The fun and chaos still brewing between those too young to go to the dance.
A new large white tent had been erected on one of the cleared lawns, and it seemed an underage disco was starting to get going. The DJ, visible in the open doorway behind a big flashing podium, beats and thumps in time to his nodding head. Many suitable adults in yellow vests with various positions emblazoned across their backs overseeing the rabble of kids running in the flapping entranceway. She recognised no one and carried on past them.
Abby was waiting outside for her and broke into huge smiles at seeing Rose’s arrival.
‘Hey, you! God, you missed so much fun!’ Abby looped her arms with her and started pulling her towards the still-busy gardens.
‘What exactly did I miss?’ Rose hoped it was something involving Morag and a disabling fall, then chastised herself for even thinking that way.
‘Your parents got so drunk that I had to send them to the house to nap it off in the guest rooms. Think your mum was about ready to lay down in the middle of the garden.’ Abby grinned, but Rose just groaned in embarrassment. Even at this age, her parents still had that ability.
‘Then I’m glad I missed it.’ Abby guided Rose through the remains of the fete, which still looked in full swing.
‘Well, I doubt they are any soberer. The last time I saw them, my dad had cordoned them off in the lounge and was popping open his whiskey collection. Seems being your parents meant they’re his new best friends.’
‘Abby, I’m scared to see the state of them. I thought parents calmed down by this age.’ Rose giggled at the thought of the three of them up to no good.
‘Mine certainly didn’t, he’s already been around the dancefloor twirling that goddamn kilt, and I can guarantee he will be up again soon.’ Despite the cringing way she was saying it, there was also a hint of pride in Abby’s voice.
Duncan looked smart and handsome in a shirt and navy trousers as they approached him in the hall, and Abby was almost glowing with pride as she let go of Rose to kiss him on the lips softly. They made a gorgeous couple. Unconcealed infatuation was written across both of their young faces. Neither could stop looking at one another, and the subtle touches between trailing hands were not overly concealed.
Rose couldn’t deny the look of uncomplicated love between them. Again, that tiny surge of envy tried to surface, but she pushed it down, deep into the recess of her mind and pulled a smile back on her face. ‘I’ll catch you up later. Rose needs a guided tour.’ Abby winked at him before releasing him and returning to Rose’s arm.
‘You look very nice, Duncan. Very smart and handsome.’ Rose smiled at the boy. She didn’t know him well, but what she did see of him was all good. He seemed good for Abby, and the affection was genuine.
‘Thank you, Rose. You girls look lovely too, and many a head will turn tonight.’ He smiled, a hint of red creeping up his cheeks, and then he was turning to his friends and gone. Abby’s eyes followed him out of sight with a satisfied sigh that just screamed, ‘My boyfriend’s so dreamy.’
Rose was quickly dragged around and introduced to several family members of Munro, who had come for the party. After all, this was their annual event. A chance to get together and have a good old knees up. It was one of the few times a year that so many of them gathered under the roof of this old house, and she had already lost count of the number of Munros she had met.
Abby dragged her to a group of men, all equally handsome in fitted shirts and casual jeans, beers in hand. All in their late twenties. They looked like a typical bunch of guys out for a drink any weekend in any city.
‘This lot are my adopted brothers. Well, except those two, who are my cousins.’ She gestured towards two black-haired, well-built men to the rear who raised their beer bottles in unison. They bore a striking resemblance to Rob and Hamish, which was a little distracting. She took a moment to glance over the fact the Munro Gene was very strong. Neither had those clear grey eyes, though.
They all shook her hand one after the other as Abby graced her with names, smiling and kissing her cheek, introducing themselves by short nicknames instead, none of which were obvious, but she didn’t like to ask. They had the manners of the old-fashioned, despite their youthfulness.
‘This is Rob’s crew!’ She laughed and waved a delicate hand in a half circle at the men.
‘Talking of which, where is he?’ One of the tall, dark-haired cousins piped in and nudged Abs in the shoulder with his bottle.
‘God knows! He was milling around somewhere in the hall earlier.’ She passed Rose a glance as though this little piece of information would upset her, but strangely, Rose felt okay. Earlier at the cottage had somehow helped her heart a little. Abby continued with her introductions.
‘They all went to school together, and this one...’ She pulled the arm of a tall blonde. ‘Is Damien. Rob’s best mate and all round geekazoid. Watch him; he’s a creep.’ she was grinning wildly, obviously in jest, as he bopped her on the head with his beer and grinned. He was slim and athletic looking with baby blue eyes and a soft sort of gentleness to his face. His blonde hair flopping over his forehead lightly reminded her of Duncan.
He looked much younger than his age, and Rose felt an instant fondness for him. He reached forward, taking her hand and placing a gentle mock kiss and bow upon her fingers. She laughed at the motion, enjoying the company of these good-humoured fellows.
‘I’m the better-looking one.’ He winked; she smiled, seeing that he was not serious.
‘I think you’ll find Rob wears that crown.’ Another of the men cut in and was met with immediate mumbles.
‘Err, no. I think I’m the one the ladies prefer.’ Another hit into the conversation, and soon all of them were arguing over who had more sexual prowess and appeal, loudly and messily, as they all shoved and poked at one another. Rose listened and laughed at the comedy of it.
She had never thought of Rob being one of the lads and having a group of mates like this. She could not imagine him among them or how he would behave surrounded by these jocular blokes. It somehow seemed at odds with the smooth mature businessman who ran around overseeing so much. Just another layer to his complex self.
One of the men tugged Abby’s cheek in a little squeeze, and she batted them away. Obvious that she had known all these men for a very long time. They were teasing her about her height and obvious maturing. Pointing out her boobs had ‘come in’, becoming a woman instead of a ‘wee lass’.
‘Get lost, perves.’ Abby slapped away hands that were ruffling her hair, poking her in the face, and generally teasing the hell out of her.
‘She’s one of the women now. I guess we had all better be nicer to her, seeing as she’s turning into a stunner and lost the pigtailed knobbly kneed look.’ Her cousin jested the one she had learned was called Gavin.
Taking a cue from what was said, one of the other men mock knelt on one knee, proposing marriage and sending Abby into a laughing fit.
‘Shut up, you nonce.’ Abby squealed, batting him away before he scooped her up and threw her over his back effortlessly. Rose could not help but let their infectious fun and laughter filter through, and she felt better than she had in weeks. They had an energy that was catching, an easiness and light humour you had to get caught up in.
Damien leaned in purposefully while Abby was being swung around like a rag doll.
‘Is a dance later out of the question?’ He seemed shy and sincere, and Rose smiled genuinely.
‘Of course, I’ll dance with you, Damien. It would be nice.’ he smiled, lowering his eyes and raising his beer in a laddish gesture. A gentled head nod, a little worse for the wear already.
Back on her feet and looking completely breathless, Abby pulled Rose off to find her parents and save them from her dad. Getting respite from the rowdy men and managing to calm her hair back into a sleek style.
Soon enough, they were back in fighting form and already boogying on the dancefloor. Rose cringed at the sight of her parents trying to do the time warp, joined by the now transformed man of the hour, Hamish Munro and smiled affectionately. She could not help but laugh, watching the antics as she crossed towards them. Her parents looked so alive and young and were having an amazing time.
‘R’ooo’se.’ Her mother squealed at seeing her, a little girlishly, an obvious slur to her speech. She embraced her with kisses on both cheeks. ‘Mum... Dad... Mr Munro.’ Rose nodded and smiled at all of them.
‘You look so much better and very beautiful.’ Her mother stroked back her hair from her face in her usual maternal manner and then pinched her cheek. ‘Showing him what you’re worth!’ She winked, cheekily grinning and turning back to rejoin her dancing partners. Rose sighed and resisted the urge to eyeroll. Rarely had she seen her parents drink, and right now, she had no desire to get caught up with them while she was very much sober.
Abby coaxed Rose into a little five-minute dance and twirl to appease the old folks before they left them all to it and headed to the pop-up bar. She was in great need of something cool in her parched throat; it was stuffy in here already and was only half filled with hot bodies.
‘Just a coke Ab’s!’ She stayed her hand as she gestured to the barman. ‘You sure?’
‘Yeah, I want to stay clear-headed. I still feel a tiny bit fragile. No more booze for me right now, okay?’ she squeezed her hand gently and smiled warmly, knowing that staying sober when she would ultimately see Rob again would be for the best. She would need to handle seeing him with Morag, no doubt, and she didn’t want a repeat of earlier.
‘Okay, dokely, Lovely!’ Abby ordered them two cokes, deciding to join her friend’s sobriety for the time being. A show of support.
The hall was fast filling up, and Rose unexpectedly caught glimpses of Rob across the room. She had, for once, not been looking for him, but still, her eyes had managed to find him amid a sea of faces. He saw her too, but true to his word, he did not react but kept his distance, smiling briefly at her and turning away. It didn’t feel good, but it felt safer than having him approach. Her eyes lingered on his wide shoulders and dark shirt a little longer than she should have, and she had to pull her gaze away, chastising herself inwardly.
Oh god, how much she missed him.
Morag sashayed across the floor as though to serve as a reminder as to why Rose should keep her distance, her casual outfit from earlier replaced with a figure-hugging short black dress and killer platform heels. All evidence of anger and crazy safely locked down as she headed straight for Rob’s side. Rose swallowed hard and bit her lip to quell all the emotions swirling inside her. Unable to stop looking her way.
There was a look on Morag’s face that was hard to translate and a few words in Rob’s ear, pressed close enough to him to make it obvious she was not entirely amused. The tension in both of their body language told Rose that she wasn’t being friendly. He turned to shrug her hands off his arm, saying something to her. Close to her face, almost nose to nose, before turning and leaving her alone.
To anyone else, it looked like a domestic between lovers, which only irritated Rose more. She instantly wondered how many people in this town thought Morag was his girlfriend.
Morag turned, scanning the crowd, possibly checking if anyone had seen the interaction, only now she looked livid. She glared at his back as he stalked away towards the group of men Rose had met earlier and was greeted with a beer and a chorus of a lot of ‘Yays’, back-slapping and male bonding ensuing. Realising there was an audience, she threw back her hair, pasting on a bright fake smile and picked at the canopies on the table.
Rose knew she shouldn’t be watching and staring, but something in the little scene had made her feel better. Slightly triumphant despite not even knowing what it was about. Seeing him push off her normally wandering hands and putting distance between them was enough to lighten the heavy thud in her chest and make her relax a little.
She watched him being enveloped into the masculine group, laughing and joking, clinking beer bottles and behaving as lads did on a night out. He looked younger, carefree, and unlike his normal ‘all business’ self. Still the best-looking of the group of men, she noted. Oblivious to the seething stares cast at him mere feet away by his red-headed serpent.
It helped that Morag was angry and storming away; her chin held high and daggers flying from those slanted eyes and a deep frown.
Maybe tonight, Rose would get a chance to relax without being assaulted by the view of Morag feeling Rob up and acting as if she owned him.
Abby caught her arm, bringing her back to the present and yanked her towards the dance floor as her favourite song came on. Relieving her of her drink as they passed the last table, she swung her into a clearing with little protest.
The floor was already busy, but there was still room to move, and Rose fell into the beat of the music effortlessly. One thing she had always been good at was dancing. She loved to dance and could already feel her tension lifting and floating up into the high ceiling. Duncan appeared behind Abby and began shimmying and sashaying with her, receiving a gentle shove in the chest and a mock telling-off. He leant down, briefly kissing Abby on her lips, his hand wandering over the girl’s backside sneakily, then moved off to rejoin his friends dancing nearby. She smiled at him, her eyes shining with love. ‘He’s a really nice guy, you know?’ Rose yelled over the music.
‘I know!’ Abby had not torn her gaze from the tall boy across the floor, obviously smitten with the tall, sturdy frame and light hair. ‘He even gets on with Rob, which I have to say is a bonus. I was sure Rob would take his head off when I finally admitted we were dating.’
‘He’s definitely a keeper then!’ Rose laughed as Abby turned back her way, a strange misty look in her glittering cheeky eyes.
‘I love him, Rose!’ Her eyes filled with emotion, and her cheeks flushed. It was almost as though she had been afraid to say it aloud, and it scared her.
‘Tell me something I don’t know!’ She shook her head, grabbing Abby and spinning her round, killing the conversation as the music upped a gear and a dance tune blended in effortlessly. Somehow the sound got louder, so talking was impossible.
They danced until their feet ached, stopping briefly to sip their drinks and scream to another favoured tune. Abby and Rose were well-matched in dancing skills and enthusiasm, and she was having a good time. Even with Rob in full view, his group of men chugging down beer and talking to one another with animated gestures. Rose was enjoying herself.
The goodbye at the cottage. The lack of serpent by his side. It all felt somehow more bearable. She could do this if she set her mind to it and kept a reign on these damn emotions.
Her parents appeared and danced terribly beside them for two songs before admitting defeat and heading off to find a comfy chair among the sea of faces. Not that Rose was complaining, it had been excruciating, and she wondered if she would ever become the kind of parent who embarrassed her kids that way. They did think they were Torvill and Dean.
The hall was mobbed! The lights had been lowered to darkness, and the twinkling fairy lights and disco balls were creating a moving pattern across the mass of bodies. It was almost magical.
The air around them quietened slightly as the pace dropped. A softer song blended in, slowing the tempo and bringing the chaos of hyper-dancing down to a calmer movement like a wave across the floor. Duncan appeared, pulling Abby towards him, and Rose turned to head off in search of food, not wanting to be a third wheel just as Damien appeared before her, mock bowing and offering his hand out towards her.
‘My lady, I would like to have that dance now.’ He smiled shyly.
‘Of course, kind sir.’ Rose grinned and curtsied, joining in the game, accepting his warm gesture and letting him lead her back to the floor to take up a slow dance waltz position.
He was a good dancer and a strong leader and effortlessly moved her in time to the music. Swaying gently. There was something sweet about him, almost childish, and she would never have put Rob and Damien together as best friends. They were like chalk and cheese.
‘You’re a great dancer, you know?’ He smiled down at her from his tall height. ‘I could see you from over there.’ He motioned to where they had all been assembled earlier, and she resisted the urge to look over, afraid she would catch Rob’s eye. Afraid it would make her feel as uncomfortable as the night she had danced with Matt, Damien was completely different.
‘Thanks! You’re not so bad yourself.’ her smile was genuine as she did mean every word.
‘You look really pretty, you know. It’s a nice dress. Makes you stand out. Classier than most of the girls here.’ He was sincere and sweet, but Rose didn’t like where this conversation was heading. The nervousness of his facial expressions, despite being well and truly drunk and the slow creep of colour across his cheeks. She could tell his brain was whirring and clicking, trying to carry out whatever plan he had souped up mid-dance. She had that anxious feeling building inside, suddenly aware that this majorly drunk man would make a move on her after all. His eyes were glued to her mouth in that undeniable way.
Shit! Rob’s best friend of all people!
Her face strained with the effort to keep smiling, and she tried to put some distance between them. A hard task when he was holding onto her as though his life depended on it. He was practically sweating nerves. It was obvious that, being best friends, they had similar tastes in women.
But what about loyalty?
Rose found that distasteful.
Looking around briefly, trying to catch Abby’s eye, she knew he was still talking, but she was no longer listening. Nodding and raising her eyebrows as though she was responding to the brief conversation Damien seemed to be having with her as she looked for an easy escape route that wouldn’t embarrass him. She was too late and saw the kiss coming in advance, turning her face evasively. Being slower than her, Damien planted his lips firmly on her cheek, realising he had missed his target. He looked embarrassed, and his cheeks started to redden. He made another move forward, more certain of the mark this time and assuming his drunkenness had been the cause. This time he had an intense purposeful look in his eyes as he descended again.
Rose's facial expression and raised hand stayed his advances. She looked around fleetingly, unsure of what to do next.
Rose caught Rob’s eye directly through the crowd, feeling that overwhelming surge of panic rising. Aware that he had probably seen the awkward encounter, but his face gave nothing away. He just stood pouring beer into his mouth from his glass bottle, his eyes steadfast on hers and almost statue-like in his pose. The man beside him was unaware he had lost interest in their conversation.
‘Look, Damien. You’re really lovely! You are! It’s just...’ Rose dragged her focus back to the task at hand, faced with a floundering man mortified at her rejection.
‘Shit, you have a boyfriend, don’t you?’ He frowned hard, hands moving around nervously as they were standing still in the middle of the moving dancefloor, no longer touching.
Rose felt confused. For his best mate, he had no clue that Rose and Rob had once been lovers. That it had only been recent, and things were still raw between them.
‘Not exactly, but I’m still getting over someone.’ Rose smiled gently, Damian was still standing close, but it became obvious the rejection had him looking for an easy escape. She could see his eyes flicking to the sides, looking for a way out, and that surge of embarrassment staining his upper cheeks and forehead. Rose felt immediately sorry for him.
‘Do you mind if we sit down, my feet are aching from all the dancing?’ She said softly, patting him gently. It was a little white lie to save his grace as much as hers. Relieved and almost grateful, he gave her another mock bow and let her walk off before returning to the podium area and being enveloped back into the group of men.
Rob was still glancing her way between responding to his friends, his eyes never leaving her as she made her way off the floor. He smiled at something that was said to him, that thousand-watt killer smile, but it didn’t seem to reach his eyes. He appeared to be fully focused on what had just taken place on the floor instead, and now that it was over, he stopped looking her way and turned his back. The joyful noise echoed her way and a hint of his laugh. It sounded genuine despite his previous manner.
Rose literally could not handle another episode like that today. She felt like she had been on way too many rollercoaster rides. Lately, it was becoming way too familiar a feeling. And what she needed was a long evening of carefree emotionless fun that didn’t involve advances from men or watchful eyes that made her feel guilty.
The entrance hall, bustling with people, was quieter than the dance hall. Venturing out, she found her parents perched on a loveseat by the main stair, chatting to another elderly couple on a matching couch. The relief washed over her, and she slid on to perch beside her mum, welcomed with a motherly arm slid around her back. A simple gesture bringing back her childhood memories of her mum reading to her.
It was safer out here. No more men trying to seduce her, no bodies bumping and grinding around her, and no more staring eyes watching her every move and making her feel guilty even when she was doing nothing wrong.
She soon bored of the conversation, though. The rotational planning of a vegetable garden was not something she would ever find passion in, and the call of some great music beckoned her. Abby would be done with kissing as this was a firm favourite. She was always singing it in the car on full blast. Just the beat alone had her hurrying back to find her friend.
She went back in search of her, grabbing a glass of bubbly from a passing waiter.
One wouldn’t hurt!