Chapter Six

The cocktail party is better than expected when Emily meets Daniel again

CHAPTER SIX

Jen was not short of visitors the next day, leaving me at a loose end with no valid excuse for missing the cocktail party. My bad. But she had asked me to be her representative, and I would do my duty with as good a will as I could muster. Jen was secretary for the charity and I knew the cause was close to her heart. So I dressed with care; black, strappy dress, cut just above the knee, black, glittery gilet, tiny silver studs and matching pendant. Black, wedge-heeled sandals added some height and gave me confidence. I wore my hair in a French plait, tres chic.

Dolly drove us to Yewell Manor in his battered old mini. He loves that old car; calls it 'The Mouse', you know, after Minnie Mouse. It is twenty-years old, a classic red one. Dolly keeps it spotless, washing and polishing it every Sunday. It's his weekend ritual. I can always tell when The Mouse turns into Swan Street. God knows how it makes it to the top of Perry hill, but it hasn't failed yet, but Dolly loves his Mouse and no other car will do.

His Uncle Dickie offered to buy him a brand new mini for his twenty-fifth birthday. A bit extravagant, perhaps, but the family is loaded; more money than sense I always say. It will all be Dolly's some day. The title too; Sir Damien Dolland; not his cousin Annabelle, who lives in the US with her new husband Clyde. Sir Dickie has disinherited his only child after she wed in secret and they are not on speaking terms at present.

“What's up Belle?” Dolly broke into my thoughts. “Tuppence for them.”

I was far away, looking out of the window at the woods, slowly fading into the dusk.

“Thinking” I said, non-committal.

“'Bout what?”

“Stuff.”

“Jen? No, there's something else. I know you too well. There's a pachyderm in the vicinity.” Dolly turned the mini onto the long driveway that wound up hill towards the manor house. “She's happy, Mouse” he said out loud to the car. “I know that secret smile. She's met someone. Tell me all, Em”.

“How do you know when you've met that special someone?” I asked him.

“Everything just feels right, I guess. You just know.” He smiled cheekily. “You'd be the one for me, Belle, if that was my thing.”

Dolly began to apply the brakes as the car approached the house. “Now the boy in the chippy, or that new gardener here; he could really float my barque.” He pulled up alongside a red lotus and put on the hand brake. This time it held.

“He's straight” I informed him. “Tried to chat me up last time we went walkabout in the park.” Dolly cocked a questioning eyebrow. “When you were primping in the gents.”

He snapped his fingers. “Girlfriend, if you've got it parade it!”

We got out of the mini and headed for the front door. “Ready?” Dolly knocked and we waited side by side each mentally preparing ourselves for the ordeal to come.

We were soon in the thick of it. Cocktails were served in the upstairs sitting room. There were about twenty or so people, some of whom I knew well, others only by reputation. A waitress circulated with a platter of mini bites on sticks, another with cocktails and mock-tails for those who were driving. Little bowls of nibbles and dainty trays of cheese and snacks were dotted around on delicate tables. I tried hard not to drop crumbs on the plush pink mat which stretched the length of the room. I knew that it had come from Harrods for a ridiculous price.

Sir Dickie made it his personal mission to introduce his heir to those present. Herbert Pace, president of the Rotary Club, and his wife Ellen. He was a jovial, round fellow, so unlike his thin and pinched wife who looked as if a bad smell had invaded the room. The mayor and mayoress, His Honour Leo Pratt, looking very frail. He was due to retire soon. Dolly's mother Stephanie was there too, talking with her sister, Lady Cecilia, YCCS chairwoman, and Lyndsay Roth who was treasurer. And lastly we were introduced to the new boy in town, Daniel Cooper, looking very handsome in a dark blue suit and open necked shirt.

“My nephew and heir, Damien Dolland and his young lady, Emily Jackson”, Sir Dickie introduced us, hands shook all round. “Daniel's the new editor for the valley rag, also writes the events and entertainment column. He's here in his official capacity to cover the launch of the YCCS fundraising campaign. Drives a Lotus; you may have seen it parked outside.”

Dickie puts great store in material things; measures a man by the type of car he drives.

Daniel almost managed to keep a look of recognition from his face. I, on the other hand, was rendered tongue-tied. Sir Dickie carried on speaking for us all.

“I'll be able to put quite a bit of business your way, young fella. It is my intention to stand for election next year, when Pratt stands down.” He glanced across the room to where His Honour was holding court with Lady Cecilia and Mrs Roth. “Maybe earlier by the look of him. I'm going to make an announcement later on. Plenty of fodder for that paper of yours. “ He paused for breath.

Typical Dickie. Whatever the occasion he could always be relied upon to make it all about him. “I'll pay a retainer, of course, when you become my Press Officer” he continued. “There'll be family occasions too, if my nephew ever gets around to popping the question.”

That kind of comment usually flusters Dolly. He can never drum up the nerve to deliver a put down. But this time he rose to the occasion and seemed unusually composed when he spoke to his uncle. Daniel's presence seemed to give him more confidence.

“Sorry to disappoint, Uncle Dickie. I have no intention of getting married in the near future, if ever.”

A waitress approached and refiled our glasses. As Dolly calmly sipped his mock-tail , Sir Dickie, put in his place, for once, made his excuses. He began to circulate among his guests and Dolly drifted away to join his Aunt. Daniel and I were left with an awkward silence.

“How's your aunt” he finally asked.

“She's having tests.”

He downed his drink in one, surveying the room until his eyes rested on Dolly.

“He's not really your boyfriend, is he?”

“You can tell?”

“He's giving me the eye.” Daniel raised his empty cocktail glass in a silent salute across the room.

I smiled and placed a finger to my lips.

“He hasn't come out yet?” Daniel said with surprise.

“Not to Sir Dickie. The old boy would have a fit. Dickie hates anything that's different.”

“But it's so obvious”. Daniel's blue eyes almost pulsed with amusement. The roller-coaster sped up again.

Across the room Dolly caught my attention. He signed 'he's hot'. To my astonishment Daniel's hands moved too; he signed back 'thanks'. I pretended to ignore them both, but Dolly's mother was nearby and had seen all. She glared across at her son and said quietly to me, 'tell him to stop that. It's rude'.

Daniel was looking over my head, intent on the painting above the fireplace but as Stephanie took his arm he gave her his full attention.

“Let me introduce you to the Pace's, Mr Cooper.”

As she led him away Daniel signed 'see you later'.

The roller-coaster spiralled into overdrive.