It Started With A Tweet(88)

‘Shall I crack open a bottle of bubbles?’ asks Rosie, jumping up. ‘Celebrate your last night with us?’

‘Your last night?’ says Alexis, looking confused.

‘Yes, I’ve got to head back to London tomorrow.’ I try and read his facial expression, but I can’t tell if he looks sad or if he’s struggling to work out my accent.

‘The painting won’t be the same without you,’ he says, and in his sultry French tones he makes it sound so sexy.

‘No, it won’t be. We might actually get some paint on the walls,’ says Rosie.

‘Hey, that’s not fair,’ I say laughing. It’s woefully true though. I’m sad about leaving this project, but in reality, Rosie got all the practical genes in the family. I might be the queen of organisation but I’m not a natural when it comes to ticking things off the lists I’m making.

Alexis’s foot rubs up against mine and I don’t think it is accidental this time. Maybe Rosie’s right, I do deserve a little bit of fun on my last night.

*

‘Hark, look at you, lovey, don’t you scrub up well,’ says Liz as I walk into the village hall. She’s sitting behind a trestle table with a cash tin in front of her and a list of names. She looks expectantly at us until we hand her our tickets.

‘Go on through and enjoy yourself. And you,’ she says pointing her finger determinedly at Alexis, ‘you have to save me a dance.’

‘Always,’ he says with a pout.

It looks like I might have competition for my French fancy. And I don’t think it’s only from her. We walk into the hall and all eyes are immediately on us. I’m initially flattered before I realise that it’s mainly the female eyes of the room, and most of the women are gazing at him. The hall itself and is unrecognisable from the yoga class, with hay bales and bunting and dim lighting.

Rosie and I find the makeshift bar, and Alexis goes off to do his rounds of adoring fans.

‘You’d think he’s a celebrity,’ says Rosie as we watch him have his biceps stroked by one woman, while another leans in close to him and snaps a selfie with him.

I watch him and I bite my lip. I’ve always wanted to sleep with a celebrity. Maybe now’s my chance.

‘You both came,’ says a woman bounding over to us, and it takes me a minute, as she bundles us into hugs, to work out that it’s Jenny.

Now, I thought Rosie and I had made an effort in our jeans and sparkly tops, but Jenny has gone all out with her knicker-grazing, short, lacey black dress, and a fiercely dyed red bob.

‘You’re just in time for the good stuff. The band’ll start in a minute, and I think most people are here.’

I scan the crowd, looking for her date, but I don’t see him. I make eye contact with Rodney and he raises a glass in my direction and gives me a wink.

Jack’s not here, though. Which I know I should be relieved about; the last thing I wanted to see was him here with Jenny draped over him, but I can’t help feeling a little bit sad.

‘Drink?’ asks Rosie, as Jenny bounds off to give Alexis an even bigger hug than we got.

‘Yes, please.’

We get a few odd looks as we get our drinks, not because there’s anything wrong with us, but I think because we’re outsiders in the village and people have that kind of nosey curiosity.

‘You’re the ones who have bought Lower Gables farm, aren’t you?’ chuckles one man. He nods. ‘Knew Ned well. It’s nice to have a bit of life back in the old place. Good on you.’

He pats Rosie on the arm and walks off.

‘I’m so pleased you talked me into coming,’ I say to Rosie as we stand up against the wall and try to blend in with the chairs. The thought of anyone pulling us up into the scary dancing is quite unreal. I do remember doing country dancing once at Guides. The prospect of having to hold hands with sweaty Lucy Rivers, who I always seemed to get partnered with, seems preferable to dancing with most of the men here. Speaking of whom, Rodney has just appeared at our side.

‘Ladies,’ he says, tipping his imaginary hat.

‘Rodney,’ I say, feeling awkward. This is the first time I’ve spoken to him since I left his kitchen. ‘Have you met my sister, Rosie?’

‘No. It’s a pleasure,’ he says kissing her hand.

I see him clock her wedding ring and he drops her hand quicker than a hot potato.

‘Can I interest you in a dance?’ he asks me.

‘Um,’ I say, wishing that another young man would cut in, but alas Alexis is acting like a maypole with girls dangling off him in all directions, and my usual white knight is nowhere to be seen. ‘OK,’ I say, at least taking relief in what Jack said about most of his actions just being loneliness.

‘Ooh.’ I jump as he grabs my bottom, I hope by accident, before his hand finds the small of my back as he leads me across the dance floor.

The band announces the song, and suddenly I find myself being trotted around with my hands latticed with Rodney’s.

‘Follow my lead,’ he says as he proceeds to walk me forwards and backwards.

‘Oops,’ I say as I step on the woman behind me as we change direction once more. ‘I don’t think I’m a natural.’

‘Stick with me and I’ll teach you,’ he says winking.