The Last Kiss Goodbye (22 page)

Dusk was settling over London, streaking the sky with gold and violet, and it sent shivers of emotion coursing through her body.

‘I don’t think I’ve ever felt more excited about life and the promise it held than when I walked over Waterloo Bridge,’ she said softly.

Dominic put an arm around her shoulder and drew her close.

‘You said that on our first date, and now I know exactly what you meant,’ she said, looking up at him.

‘I’m feeling it again now, aren’t you?’ he said, nuzzling the top of her head.

As she nodded, he took hold of her hand and turned her around so that she was facing him. She thought he was about to kiss her, but he looked suddenly nervous, a tic pulsing under his left eye, those grey eyes she loved.

‘Marry me,’ he said.

At first she wasn’t sure she had heard him properly.

‘I don’t just want you to come to the Amazon with me. I want to be with you for ever.’

Her heart was racing, and then she started laughing, the sound carried away on the riverside breeze. And finally she said, ‘Yes.’

Chapter Twenty-Four

Nobody was particularly surprised when Dominic Blake insisted on throwing a party to celebrate his engagement to Rosamund Bailey. If cooking wasn’t his forte, then throwing an intimate bash for a hundred of their closest friends was what he was certainly good at.

Ros walked into the stucco apartment in Belgravia and gasped. It was a huge lateral space with a bank of almost floor-to-ceiling windows on one side of the room looking out on to Eaton Square. The polished walnut floors and the elegant grey furniture gave it a glamorous Art Deco feel, and as she accepted a glass of champagne from a man in a dinner jacket, she felt like Audrey Hepburn in Billy Wilder’s
Sabrina
.

‘If this was my house, I’m not sure I’d lend it to anyone,’ she said, looking around the room, searching for breakables.

‘It’s a good friend and they are never in the country,’ said Dominic, taking a guest list out of his pocket and checking it.

‘Do they know how many people you’ve invited?’ asked Ros, peering over his shoulder at the long list of names.

‘Everyone’s well-behaved,’ he whispered, sipping at his champagne bowl.

‘We’ll see about that,’ laughed Ros cynically.

She was glad to see Jonathon Soames and his girlfriend Michaela, who brought her an enormous bunch of peach-coloured roses. Accepting them, she felt like a movie star on stage at the Oscars, but told them not to expect a speech. There were others in the room that she was only meeting for the first time – more university friends, old colleagues from a broadsheet where Dominic had worked straight out of Cambridge.

Her heart fell when she saw Victoria Harbord arrive, especially as she looked more stunning than usual. Ros had seen her without make-up in the pool, and knew she was a natural beauty, but she couldn’t help thinking that Lady Harbord had made a special effort this evening. An emerald-green silk dress with a boat-cut neckline showed off an expanse of tanned shoulders, and her dark blond hair fell in waves down her back.

She waved when she saw Ros and headed over.

‘Ros, you look as ravishing as ever. I love this dress.’

Ros looked down at the blue shift dress she had bought specially for the occasion; it looked very dowdy and ordinary compared to Victoria’s.

‘How are you, Vee?’

‘Good, good. I’ve been following your journalism. I saw your piece in the
New Statesman
. Do you really think they’re going to build an actual wall through the middle of Berlin?’

‘That’s the rumour. It was denied in a press conference, but East Germany wants to stop the brain drain to the West, and I think they’re going to take quite drastic steps to do that.’

Victoria sighed and looked around the room, clearly no longer interested in discussing politics.

‘Enjoying the party?’ she asked, playing with a gold pendant around her neck. ‘I can’t say I ever thought it would come to this,’ she added.

‘You sound surprised,’ replied Ros thinly.

‘I have never doubted Dominic’s love for you. I just didn’t think we’d see him at the altar. How on earth did you do it?’

‘Well, I didn’t need a leash.’

‘Then why are you going with him to Peru?’

Ros glanced at Dominic with annoyance, wondering how much her fiancé had told his friends.

‘Why are you here, Victoria, if you’re not happy for us?’ she said, unable to contain herself any longer.

Victoria put a reassuring hand on her forearm. It was a trick that Ros had seen time and again among Dominic’s high-flying circle of friends. She wondered if it was something they taught you in the fancy schools these people went to.

‘Ros, please don’t be sensitive. Dominic is one of my dearest friends. Of course I am happy for you.’

‘But you don’t think I’m good enough for him, do you?’

Victoria’s expression hardened.

‘I don’t think you’re right for him. There’s a difference,’ she said in a quieter voice.

Ros felt her back stiffen. She knew how easy it was to be intimidated by these people, but she was not going to let it happen.

‘And why would that be, Victoria? Am I too Jewish? Too working class? Too opinionated for a trophy wife? How do I not quite fall into your very narrow view of what is good marriage material?’

‘I don’t care who you are or where you came from,’ said Victoria, keeping her tone light. ‘Tony was a butcher’s son, born in the slums of New York, but he has made his mark in society in spite of where he came from.’

She took Ros’s hand and wrapped both of hers around it, her self-assurance softening to concern.

‘You excite Dominic, Rosamund. You madden him, you intrigue him. You are as exotic as the jungle and as familiar as the girl next door, and believe me, that is quite an intoxicating combination. But you are just too different to make it work. I mean, do you ever socialise with his friends?’

‘Like who?’

‘His friends! These people?’

‘I’ve seen them,’ she said stiffly.

‘Occasionally, by all accounts.’

Ros knew they were both aware that it had happened just a handful of times.

‘Ros, there is a difference between a marriage of opposites and an incompatible partnership. Dominic keeps his worlds separate, you and them, because he knows you just don’t mix. He will never let go of his friends, so his solution is to keep you apart. But how is this anything other than a temporary solution? At some point he will have to make a choice. And even if he does choose you, which I suspect he will, there will be a part of him that will be forever resentful. I should imagine the same goes for your friends. How much do they like hanging out with Tory boy? They don’t, and so never the twain shall meet.’

‘We love each other, that’s what counts.’

‘Does it? I thought you of all people wouldn’t have such a rose-tinted view of life.’

‘What are you saying, Victoria? What are you
really
saying here? That I shouldn’t marry Dominic?’

‘Have you set a date?’

‘Not yet, no.’

‘Well, I wonder why,’ said Victoria, taking a glass of champagne and wandering off into the crowd.

Not even another couple of glasses of champagne, downed in rapid succession, could calm Rosamund.

‘I’d say the party’s a success,’ said Dominic, slipping his hand around her waist.

Ros nodded and smiled with as much enthusiasm as she could manage. But whilst she knew she had no loyalty to Victoria Harbord, she could not tell her fiancé about the conversation they had just had and how much it had upset her. For a moment she was reminded of an episode with bullies she had experienced at school; for weeks she had been too scared to speak out against the girls who had tormented her for being too ethnic, and too smart. Even though she had stuck up for herself in the playground, it was only when she spoke out and canvassed support around her, teachers and other pupils, that the bullies went away.

And yet still she could not tell Dominic about Victoria. He loved his friends, she knew that, and she didn’t want to create a wall between them.

‘Right, I want to meet some of your friends,’ said Dominic, taking hold of her hand. ‘Sam. Where’s Sam? I want to introduce her to my friend Edward.’

‘She’s definitely on her way,’ said Ros, scanning the room. The party had started at 7.30, and all of Dominic’s friends seemed to have arrived by eight o’clock, yet none of the people Ros had invited – Sam, Alex, George, the manager of the café where she used to work and three new Primrose Hill friends – were yet here.

She breathed a sigh of relief when she saw her parents standing awkwardly at the door, the first of her fashionably late contingent. Her father was in his smartest suit; her mother was wearing something that resembled a saucer on her head.

‘Mr and Mrs Bailey,’ said Dominic, squeezing Ros’s fingers as they went over to greet them.

‘Dominic, what a beautiful place,’ said Valerie, almost speechless as she looked around.

‘Sadly it’s not mine,’ said Dominic, making sure they had drinks.

‘In which case, I’m going to have to take you into my study and talk about your prospects,’ said Samuel, already looking giddy on the champagne.

Ros laughed. She knew how well Dominic got on with her father. When he had gone round to officially ask for Ros’s hand in marriage, the two men had disappeared to the pub and returned three hours later laughing like old friends, which had only impressed upon Ros how badly she wanted to marry him.

A few more of Ros’s friends arrived, and Dom announced that he wanted to make a speech, banging a teaspoon against a crystal glass.

‘Gather round, everyone. I’d like to say a few words.’

‘There’s a surprise,’ shouted Zander from the back of the room.

Everyone laughed, then made a semicircle around Dominic and Ros. He thanked them all for coming, and gave a few special mentions to those who had helped with the arrangements.

‘Ever since I was a little boy, I’ve wanted to be a journalist,’ he told the sea of faces. ‘I’ve always been fascinated with words, and what they can do. Words can make you laugh, they can make you cry, they can alter your opinions by giving you hope and wisdom and knowledge. They have an alchemic power to change things. Words changed my life,’ he said, clutching Ros’s hand tighter. ‘One day earlier this year, I read a blistering, roughly typed attack on
Capital
magazine, and I knew I had to meet its author. Words brought Ros Bailey through my door. And then one word made me happier than I have ever been in my life. That word was “yes”.’

He turned and took both of her hands.

‘Ros Bailey, I love you so much. I can’t wait to marry you and I am honoured that you want me as your husband.’

A cheer went up around the room. Ros found herself beaming at everyone until she spotted Victoria Harbord standing at the back, unsmiling, just sipping her champagne. Their eyes met, and Ros felt not triumph, but a sweet, overpowering sense of relief that everything was going to be okay.

‘I missed the speech,’ said Sam, throwing her arms around her.

‘You came!’

‘You didn’t think I’d miss a party in Eaton Square, did you? Gosh, I haven’t been here since I was a deb in ’55.’

‘Your natural habitat, then,’ laughed Ros, imagining her free-spirited friend navigating the social mores of the Season.

‘Put it this way, I know half the girls in the room from Cheltenham Ladies’,’ whispered Sam.

‘They must be glad to see you,’ replied Ros honestly.

‘Absolutely. They look at me, listen to what I do, and feel grateful for all their life choices.’

Ros laughed. ‘Well I’d rather be you than them any day of the week.’

‘Your sparkler. Let me see it,’ said Sam, grabbing Ros’s left hand and lifting it up to inspect it.

Ros fluttered her fingers to show off the beautiful ruby ring that Dom had presented her with the day after his Waterloo Bridge proposal.

‘It’s gorgeous,’ sighed Sam. ‘It makes me want to meet a man who loves me as much as Dom loves you. Is it terribly unfeminist of me to think like that?’

‘There’s absolutely nothing wrong with wanting to love and be loved,’ smiled Ros, touching her arm. ‘Speaking of which, Dom wants to introduce you to his friend Edward,’ she said, waving him over.

‘Oh good. Is this a set-up?’

‘Just call him Cupid,’ whispered Ros.

Dom was feet away from them when the butler tapped him on the shoulder.

‘Excuse me, Mr Blake. There’s a phone call for you.’

Dominic frowned in puzzlement.

‘Ladies, I’ll be back in a minute.’ He winked.

‘Go on, then. Charm us out of trouble.’

‘What do you mean?’ asked Sam when he’d gone.

‘The flat belongs to some American friends who I swear don’t know the scale of the party. The complaints from the neighbours have probably started.’

‘Mr and Mrs B. How are you?’ said Sam, turning to Rosamund’s parents.

‘I could get used to this sort of night out,’ laughed Ros’s dad.

‘If this is the engagement party, what did the pair of you have in mind for the wedding?’ asked Valerie, a crease of concern appearing between her brows.

‘Something small. Intimate. I had something half this size in mind,’ replied Ros.

‘Good, because your father has been terribly worried. I understand our responsibilities and we fully intend to pay for the wedding, but there has to be a limit.’

Sam’s brows shot up with the excitement of an idea.

‘I know. You can use my parents’ place.’

‘Sam, don’t be silly,’ said Ros.

‘I’m being serious! It’s just ninety minutes out of London and we’ve got a huge terrace for drinks and a ballroom for dancing. I’m afraid the sofas smell a bit of cat pee and you’ll probably have to invite Mum and Dad, but buy them a crate of gin and they’ll be delighted to host the wedding.’

‘Sam, that’s so generous of you. Too generous, in fact,’ said Ros, putting an arm around her friend. ‘I couldn’t possibly make that sort of imposition.’

‘I agree,’ said Samuel awkwardly. Ros looked at her father, knowing that his unwillingness to accept Sam’s hospitality was rooted in pride.

He didn’t need to worry. She and Dom had already discussed the broad strokes of their wedding.

Ros had no desire for a big white dress, nor the religious conviction to exchange vows in church. Instead she fancied Chelsea registry office for a handful of their closest family and friends, and a meal afterwards of roast chicken and lemon tart; things that reminded her of Provence. She had already seen the perfect dress: a cream knee-length shift in Bazaar on the King’s Road.

‘You should at least think about it,’ said Valerie, sipping her champagne. ‘I think it would add something special
having the celebration at such a good friend’s home.’

‘Well the offer’s there, but you’d better hurry up and make your mind up,’ said Sam with a shrug. ‘You should at least have a date and a venue in place before you leave for your trip. You can’t leave the crowds hanging.’ She winked.

‘Trip?’ asked Valerie, peering up at them from under her hat.

‘The Amazon trip.’