He seemed to know an awful lot about Kate. Pennies started dropping in a way I didn’t want them to drop. ‘Just a minute,’ I said as my mind went blank on names and an unwelcome thought struck me. ‘You’re not Kate’s fiancé, are you?’
‘Good God, no,’ he said. ‘I’m her cousin. Let me get that glass refilled for you. And I’m not anybody’s fiancé, by the way. Or anybody’s anything.’
We were on our third glass of champagne when I said to him, ‘I suppose you’ve got a job in the City, as well?’
‘Sort of,’ he said. ‘Members of our family tend to end up studying maths at university. And then they go into the City.’
‘Like Kate,’ I said.
‘Exactly,’ he said.
‘And now she’s marrying someone else in the City?’
‘Yup. Hugo. Plays the banjo, speaks three languages and cheats at Monopoly. I suppose we should go and greet the happy couple.’
I picked up the parcel and we went to find them. Kate, looking happier than I’d ever seen her, was dressed as a fairy princess—surprise, surprise—and Hugo was wearing knee-breeches and a frock coat. ‘People keep asking me if I’m Ken,’ he said. ‘Who’s Ken?’
‘He’s had a very sheltered upbringing,’ said Kate to me. ‘He’s only got brothers.’
‘Kate’s told me a lot about you,’ said Hugo charmingly, after they had fought their way into the parcel and admired the salad bowl.
‘She’s the voice of Florabunda deodorant,’ said Kate. ‘And Mrs Morrell’s Country Mushroom Pies. And Moggy Brex.’
‘Really?’ said Oliver. ‘That’s so much more interesting than what I do. Shall we go and get some food? It’s in the marquee. They might even have some of Mrs Morrell’s Country Mushroom Pies.’
Mercifully, Mrs Morrell would have been way out of her league. There were platters of blinis, beautifully decorated canapés and a carvery buffet with huge bowls of glistening multicoloured salads, then profiteroles and syllabub and shortcake and mounds of fresh strawberries and raspberries. And the champagne never stopped coming.
As we ate, Oliver asked me about my work, even the hanging-about-in-the-background jobs and the ice cream selling. I supposed that if he worked in an office surrounded by computer screens and financial data he would find what I did fascinating. I asked about his work but he said that he couldn’t say much for reasons of confidentiality.
‘Do you think you can dance in that thing?’ He eyed my dress doubtfully.
‘One way to find out,’ I said.
The band had relocated to the fringe of the dance floor and was now playing a selection of classic French numbers. ‘Oh, lovely,’ I said. ‘La Mer. My favourite.’
‘Very appropriate,’ he said, ‘given your costume. And, come to that, mine: France and the sea.’ He took my hand and led me on to the dance floor. Then he took me in his arms and we started to dance. I felt a delicious anticipation of the electricity of physical attraction. Our bodies touched lightly. Crunch.
‘Dear God,’ said Oliver. ‘What on earth have you got on under that dress?’
‘You don’t want to know,’ I said.
‘Don’t be so sure,’ he murmured.
We went on dancing until the band pleaded desperate thirst and announced a break and then we walked around the garden. There were lanterns strung in the trees and the scents of jasmine and lavender drifted lazily. The evening was getting impossibly romantic, which I suppose was appropriate, given that it was an engagement party. Oliver took my hand. ‘We could go and look at the pond,’ he said. ‘They were going to light it.’
I said, ‘You know this garden?’
‘Of course I do,’ he said. ‘It’s Kate’s parents’ house. I spent some of my formative years here—catching tadpoles, watching dragonflies, getting covered in mud.’
Coloured lights glowed from the trees around the pond and, of course, there was a bench.
‘This isn’t as romantic as I’d hoped,’ said Oliver. ‘I can’t get closer to you than about two feet.’
‘Sorry, it’s the panniers. The most fashionable ladies at Versailles had to go through doors sideways.’
The party ended some time after midnight when the champagne ran out and the band got to the end of their repertoire and said they’d have to start on Gilbert and Sullivan again. ‘Let me take you home,’ said Oliver. ‘I’ll just go and get my hat.’
We found a taxi and Oliver helped me in. ‘At least no one’s going to ask to share the cab,’ he said, settling on the opposite side of the seat from me. ‘And I think I’m learning how to cope with your costume. D’you need some help with that seat belt?’
When we arrived at my rather humble apartment building, Oliver paid off the taxi. ‘I’ll see you to the door,’ he said.
‘What about getting home?’ I said. He waved a set of keys at me.
‘Kate’s flat,’ he said. ‘Just round the corner. She’s staying with her parents. So I can crash at her place. I borrowed her keys when I went to get my hat. I thought perhaps I could take you out to lunch tomorrow.’
‘Dressed like that?’ I couldn’t resist asking.
‘If necessary,’ he said. ‘But I thought I’d go out and buy some clothes. Unless some of Kate’s will fit me…No, not really.’
‘Clothes…’ I felt my face drop. ‘I can’t get out of this dress by myself,’ I said. ‘It’s all done up at the back with laces and things.’
‘Can I help?’ he asked.
‘Er—’ I wondered momentarily about the advisability of this.
‘I could do it with my hat over my eyes,’ he suggested.
There was nothing for it. He came up to the flat. Getting in and out of the lift was quite an experience, and once we’d got my front door closed he put his hat down and undid the laces on the dress for me. ‘You’ll have to loosen them as well,’ I said. ‘Or else I won’t be able to get out of it. And then the same with the corset.’
‘It’s amazing what they did before Lycra,’ he said. ‘Will that do?’ he asked about five minutes later.
‘Fine. Thank you.’ I had to hold up the front of the dress to stop it sliding downwards. Then he kissed my back between my shoulder blades. It was wonderful. Electric. A concentration of all the sensations that had been trying to get through that wretched corset.
‘You’ve got a lovely back,’ he said as I turned round.
He kissed me on the lips.
‘I ought to go,’ he said. He kissed me again. ‘I really ought to go,’ he said.
‘Yes,’ I heard myself say, then I kissed him back.
He did go. The lock clicked softly behind him.
Always leave them wanting more, I thought. I wasn’t sure whether it referred