Maybe, but despite his protests, today was not going to be the first time I took the wheel. Let alone the wheel of a fifty-thousand-pound sports car. We compromised: he would drive, if I kept the present.
‘Fine. But I’m choosing who gives me lessons.’ I slid into the passenger seat. ‘And Perry? Thank you. I really, really appreciate this.’
‘You’re welcome. I consider you absolutely worth it.’
Really? I consider you absolutely wrong.
Dinner included sixteen Uppertons and me. I managed to wangle a seat near my bridesmaid, Natasha, but that meant sitting opposite Great-Uncle Russell. At least two hundred years old, it soon became apparent that he had lost his inhibitions and quite possibly his marbles, along with all his hair and most of his teeth.
He complimented Perry several times on his fine choice of ‘filly’, declaring redheads to be ‘red hot like a chilli pepper’. This caused my skin to provide a visual demonstration of red-hotness, so when he asked me about my ‘bloodline’, the extreme discomfort was perhaps a little less apparent.
‘Yes, Faith,’ Larissa said. ‘Tell us about your family.’
I had been skilfully sidestepping this question for months. This time, I knew I had to say something.
‘My mum died when I was six, so my grandma brought me up after that. I also have a brother, Sam. He’s an artist.’
‘Oh, how awful!’ Natasha exclaimed. ‘Not that your brother’s an artist. Your mum. How did she die?’
Did Uppertons not do tact?
‘It was pretty sudden. She had an accident.’ She accidentally decided to run away the night her live-in monster’s football match got cancelled, so he came home early and caught her.
‘And what about your poor father?’ another relative asked, whose name I’d forgotten.
‘Children are better off being raised by a woman.’ Great-Uncle Russell nodded at me. ‘Sensible decision, parcelling you off to Grandma’s.’
‘That must have been terrible for him.’ Natasha looked at me with wide eyes. I tried not to visibly squirm. ‘Losing your mother and then you moving away.’
I took a steadying breath, reciting my rehearsed response in a hollow voice. ‘We were living with my stepdad. I didn’t know him very well, so moving to Grandma’s felt best.’
‘So you don’t see your real dad? Where does he live?’
Like I said: no tact in this family. Or ability to read body language, apparently. I scanned the room in panic, wishing fervently to be back on the other side of the bar.
‘Um. Excuse me, I need to make a phone call.’ Pushing back my chair, I made a scrambled exit from the private dining room, collapsing back against the wall outside while my pulse stabilised. I heard Larissa’s strident tones sail out after me: ‘Honestly, Peregrine. It’s not too late to reconsider.’
I ducked into one of the smaller meeting rooms, leaning my head against the cold glass of the full-length window and closing my eyes.
‘Faith!’ a man’s voice whispered. Turning round, I saw Mike, the waiter, standing near the doorway.
‘Hi, Mike. Happy Christmas. How’s it going?’
‘I’m spending the day serving other people Christmas dinner. Could be better.’
‘Need any help?’
‘Yes. But you’re on the other side now. You’ve made your choice.’ He smiled at me.
‘You’re right. I shouldn’t be fraternising with the likes of you.’
‘No. Tongues would wag. Your reputation would be in tatters.’
I pretended to consider this. ‘I’d probably get thrown out of the club. Maybe even have to cancel the wedding.’
‘Alone, in the Langley meeting room with a member of staff? What are you playing at?’ He tutted in disgust.
‘You followed me in here! I could have you sacked.’
