WALKING IN THE WAKE
By Wood nee Hughes
Chantells
The day had been long with little or nothing to do. Shane was due home; the huge electric gates began to swing open. Victoria glanced at the monitor. Shane’s black Mercedes snaked into the drive with the chauffeur almost invisible in his black outfit and smart black cap. One could see the flash of white teeth as he acknowledged the houseboy running alongside. Shane threw a couple of dollars to the boy who retrieved it with joy.
“One day he will get himself killed,” remarked Shane. The chauffeur opened the car door and Shane’s lean body unfurled as he left the car. “Thanks Albert.” He winked at his loyal driver. “I won’t be long.”
“Yes, Master Shane” |
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Victoria had changed into a pale blue silk suit with matching silk shoes and handbag. Her dark hair was drawn back from her face then tightly tied into a knot. She had emphasized her eyes with black eyeliner; her naturally arched eyebrows needed no darkening, a bright red lipstick had replaced the earlier pink tone; she was ready for luncheon, a regular treat each day.
“You look stunning.” Shane brushed his lips across her hair. He was a good twelve inches taller than her. “What about…?
“I’ve booked a table already,” Victoria interrupted. “Chantells?” Shane nodded in approval.
Chantells was a fairly new restaurant, most of the ex-pats were lunching there. Shane quickly changed his white shirt for a black cotton. His tanned skin gleamed. “It’s so hot,” he declared, standing in front of the huge electric fan by the terrace. His shirt blew away from his body revealing a lean-looking and extremely attractive figure. Shane was as dark as his wife and they made an impact wherever they went. Slipping on a white jacket, Shane threw a grey tie about the neck of the shirt allowing it to hang loosely about the collar. “Damn the tie,” he thought. It was no use though, he knew Victoria always insisted on a tie no matter how hot it was. If only he could get on with his work without this continual disruption of luncheon every day. Victoria was waiting for Shane to slide the door open for her.
“Okay,” he declared, “I’m ready.” With that he pulled the door aside. Victoria stepped out onto the terrace. Already the chauffeur had left his seat and was now holding the rear door of the car open for her. Shane tucked his wife in and then walked around the other side of the car. “Chantells,” he instructed. The chauffeur’s attitude had changed in the presence of Victoria. “Yes, boss,” he murmured, easing the Mercedes into an even speed.
The huge ornate doors of Chantells appeared out of the desert like a mirage; palm trees, very green grass, exotic flowers, smoky glass windows, marble floors, servants dressed in white smocks each topped with a bright red pillar box hat with a matching tassel. The doorman, equally adorned, leaned forward. The door opened for Victoria before the chauffeur could get out of the car; he was used to this. He quickly went over to Shane’s door. Shane winked at him and muttered under his breath: “Here we go again.” He and Albert had a special understanding. When Victoria had her rest they would often visit other places. Shane felt really relieved to be out and about alone sometimes. Albert was included in this other world. “Yes, sir,” he declared.
Shane walked round the car to Victoria and took hold of her arm. They began to climb the twelve marble steps to the entrance. The restaurant was on two levels; a circle of tables overlooked the main restaurant below. Round tables with starched white tablecloths decked with shocking pink napkins skilfully folded into lily shapes, cutlery perfectly laid; Victoria loved Chantells. Her chair was already pulled out for her as the Restaurant Manager had recognised the Thornburys, had greeted them and was already leading them forward to their table. A Rhythm and Blues Quartet were playing by the side of a very tiny dance floor. Victoria recognised the music. ‘I’ve got you under my skin’. Shane settled himself in his chair and leaning across to her said: “Did you see their faces?”
“Yes,” she breathed, “some people are new.” She looked across at a blonde lady who had caught her gaze. The lady nodded, the gentleman also looked over touching his brow in acknowledgment. “I wonder who they are,” she whispered. Strangely enough, although everyone had looked up as Shane and Victoria entered, no-one had come forward. “Yes,” Shane added, “there are a lot of new people here today, it’s the contract for the airport.” It was usual for the locals to rest in between the hours of noon until mid-afternoon. This was the time Victoria spent with Shane precious hours. There was no doubt at all of how much Victoria loved her husband. They concentrated on the menu. “I will have the brill with asparagus followed by mutton.” Victoria studied the menu further. Shane added that he would have the mushroom in garlic and would also have the mutton. Music caressed the guests as one by one they were expertly served their choice of courses. Shane had ordered champagne and by now it had arrived, a huge silver ice bucket was set beside the table and the wine waiter, dressed in a stiff white front and white gloves, placed the champagne in the ice.
“Would you like a vodka to begin with, darling,” he enquired. Victoria recalled the vodka she had already downed in one. “Mmm, yes,” she agreed. The sound of the ice, now a familiar sound, clinked into her glass, olives were placed by the side of her plate. She held her husband’s gaze. “James popped in earlier, you didn’t say he was in Beruit.”
“Oh, did he?”
“I’m afraid he came whilst I was dressing so it was a short visit.”
“Oh, did he say he would come over later?”
“I merely said I would see him at 7.0. I suppose it was an invitation of sorts.”
Shane’s eyes darkened. “Not another party,” he thought.
The starters arrived. Victoria was a little disappointed that there hadn’t been anyone she knew at Chantells. “Maybe we should have gone to The Diner,” she said.
“Why?”
“Well, there isn’t anyone her, darling.”
“Does that really matter?” He sounded irritated.
“Well, it makes life more interesting.”
Shane picked up his drink and drained the glass. It was going to be a long afternoon.
Victoria began to quietly sing along with the music.
“Have you nothing to say?” enquired Shane.
“I’ve said it all!” snapped Victoria. It was obvious she was missing the usual attention.
“You can’t always be the belle of the ball.”
“I beg your pardon?”
“You heard.” Shane felt more confident as he downed another vodka.
“That’s your second one, go steady, admonished Victoria.
“Oh yeah, and it’s not your second? I bet you had a large one with James earlier.
“Why can’t I have a second one?”
Victoria realised that Shane had had more than two vodkas. “Did you drink before you came home, Shane?”
“No, no, a thousand times no. Now can we please get on with the meal.
Victoria remained quiet. She picked up her knife and fork and began to eat the beautifully prepared brill. Shane also began to eat his starter. Champagne was duly served at his nod. The atmosphere had changed and Victoria desperately tried to pull Shane out of his dark mood. She made light conversation to which Shane muttered replies.
The blonde woman had noticed the change in the attractive couple. “Did you see that?” she whispered to her escort.
“Yes, I did.” He picked up his napkin to mop his lips. “Shall we introduce ourselves?”
“Why not?”
The blonde woman’s name was Kate and she had accepted a luncheon date with John Armitage when he had come over to quote for the airport and her husband had asked her to accompany him.
John Armitage was about 5ft 9ins tall and he carried himself like a penguin; always out with his chest and down with his chin. His dark hair was flecked with grey. Today he had chosen a grey pin striped suit with waistcoat to match and a gold watch chain hung from his inner pocket. He stood up, bowed towards his companion and then walked over to Shane and Victoria. Shane got to his feet pushing his chair back with a clatter.
“So sorry to interrupt you,” said John, “but I could have sworn I saw you this morning at the meeting about the airport.”
“You may have done yes, I was there for a few minutes. May I introduce my wife Victoria?”
Victoria nodded and held her hand out meekly.
“My name is Shane Thornbury.”
“John Armitage and Kate Allsop,” he replied.
The blonde nodded again. Victoria forced a smile and returned the nod.
“Perhaps we can have coffee together,” Armitage ventured.
Shane looked across at Victoria. “Er…yes,” he stammered, knowing Victoria meant no!
John Armitage nodded towards Victoria and then returned to his table. Shane sat down with a thump.
“Did you have to agree?” asked Victoria angrily.
“Ssh!” Shane continued to eat, adding an occasional gulp of champagne. “What’s the matter? I thought you wanted to meet more people.”
“Oh, all right then, ask them over at 7.0. For a moment Victoria relaxed. This was an excuse for a drinks party. She managed a smile. The atmosphere had changed again now that a party was on the horizon.
The meal was excellent and drinking vodka followed by champagne had softened Victoria’s mood. By the time coffee came around she had mellowed beyond imagination. Shane had also mellowed; the music was really soothing. He indicated that coffee would be taken in the lounge, accompanied by two large brandies. After a few more minutes they followed the waiter to a circular coffee table on the edge of the patio. John Armitage nodded to his glamorous guest. “Let’s go.” They arrived at the table moments after.
Kate held her hand out to Victoria who brushed it with her dainty fingers. “Hello,” she declared.
“I’ve heard about you,” said Kate.
“How do you mean?” asked Victoria, now a little intoxicated.
“Well, you are talked about because you are a very attractive couple, and especially at parties. I was told always to include the Thornburys. They are a must at anyone’s party!”
“Oh!” exclaimed Victoria, “as long as it is good I don’t mind.” She allowed her smile to broaden – she was going to like Kate. “Why not join us for drinks this evening at 7.0?” she enquired.
“That would be lovely, may I bring Freddie?”
“Freddie?”
“My husband, darling,” she laughed.
“Of course.”
The two ladies giggled and nudged each other’s shoulders as they collapsed into the lounger together. “Oops!” Victoria almost spilled her drink.
“Steady on!” Shane declared.
John Armitage had taken to sitting on a high backed chair, out with his chest, feet tucked back. Shane had flopped down on the other lounger. “Well, isn’t this nice?” he declared. “Cheers!” He raised his brandy glass.
Victoria raised hers; Kate and John raised their coffee cups. “Won’t drink now if we are going to drink later,” said John.
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