Undertaking Love Page 0,57

Marla had become desperate. In the end they made it anyway, but hey ho: the more the merrier.

Brynn sidled up to Marla as they walked through the double glass front doors at Franco’s.

‘What a fabulous smell,’ he murmured, his mouth far too close to her ear for comfort.

God, please let him mean the food and not me, Marla prayed silently.

And please don’t let him order a nice Chianti, either, or I’ll insist he sleeps somewhere other than my house tonight.

‘Jonny!’

Marla waved as she spotted her saviour lounging in the bar area, looking particularly splendid in a leopard-skin shirt, a lurid blue cocktail in his hand.

‘Well don’t you look lovely, darling.’

He smiled and kissed her cheek with a nod of approval towards her close-fitting aubergine silk dress, which was held up on one shoulder with a glittering brooch. She’d opted for all-out vintage glamour tonight in an effort to prove to her mother how sorted her life was. She was sophisticated, and successful, and she had an attractive, normal man on her arm. Although, to be honest, Rupert’s behaviour since the accident with Bluey had been anything but normal. He’d been on edge and overly attentive, but maybe she was reading too much into it, because she wasn’t feeling good about their relationship. She just wanted things to settle back to the no-strings-attached relationship they’d had at the beginning. Back then he’d been fun and sociable, and she’d enjoyed his company.

Why did it always have to become more complicated?

He seemed happy enough tonight, thankfully, and she had to confess she was glad to have him there. He was by both nature and breeding a ‘social animal’. Between him and Jonny, conversation was guaranteed to flow easily.

Marla felt conspicuously on show as they took their seats around a circular table in the centre of the room, like they were the after-dinner cabaret act. Given that their party included a sex therapist, a taxidermist and a gay wedding celebrant, the other patrons of the restaurant would be well within their rights to expect something of a performance. Please don’t let them get one, Marla prayed as she sat down.

Her daily quota of prayers had risen significantly since her mother’s arrival – impressive for someone who didn’t really have faith. It just made her feel better to ask someone, anyone, to intervene and come to her rescue if the going got too tough. Her mother had only been around a few days, and already Marla’s arms ached from the effort of juggling balls, trying to maintain the illusion that she was sorted. It wasn’t that Cecilia was judgmental. It was more of a personal battle to prove that she wasn’t going to reverse up the same emotional cul-de-sacs as her mother.

She shot a glance across at Brynn, the latest case in point.

He’d found himself perched between Dora and Rupert. She wasn’t sure who she felt most sorry for. Possibly Brynn, which spoke volumes.

The group had already started to yak between themselves and not so much as glanced at their menus. At this rate, it would be a long, long evening.

‘Shall we order?’ Marla attempted to steer the group in the right direction.

Cecilia took this as her cue and cleared her throat with a dramatic cough as she stood up.

‘Could I just take a moment to thank you all for being here this evening?’

Marla smiled. Her mother was in her element when she was the centre of attention.

‘I feel truly blessed to be here with my daughter’s special people. You’ve all made me feel very welcome,’ she gushed, and fluttered her ringed fingers at her throat. ‘At this rate I won’t want to go home!’

She squeezed Marla’s shoulder to a flurry of ‘aaah’ from around the table, and Marla arranged her face into what she hoped looked like a smile to mask her inner horror at the thought of her mother staying forever.

‘And can I also just add a huge good luck to my darling Brynn before his speech at the taxidermy expo tomorrow. You go, honey!’

She raised her glass down the table towards her fiancé.

A mildly bewildered silence fell across the table until Jonny leapt into the breach feet first.

‘So, Brynn. Taxidermy. Tell me, what’s the biggest cock you’ve ever stuffed?’

Everyone around the table gasped in unison and stared from Jonny to Brynn like tennis spectators. Brynn, for his part, appeared completely unperturbed by the question as he paused for a moment’s thought and chewed on his bread roll.

‘Well, Jonny, I guess that would