Something From Tiffany’s (19 page)

‘Oh give over,’ Rachel chuckled. ‘We both know that deep down you’re a real softie.’

‘Yep, that’s me.’ Terri looked at her watch. ‘Bloody hell, it’s almost eight. People will be arriving en masse soon. Tell us, where’s your knight in shining armour?’

‘That was him I was just talking to there. He was on his bike so I could barely hear him, but he said something about making sure we have enough beer in.’ She rolled her eyes. ‘You know the way those boys won’t be caught dead drinking wine.’

Terri did. Gary’s mates were infantile and as far as she was concerned should be grateful enough about being fed and watered for free at this party without starting to make demands about the supplies. But Rachel didn’t seem to mind so perhaps she shouldn’t let it bother her so much either.

Then, as if on cue, five bikes zoomed down the street outside the bistro. Rachel gave a little jump and clapped her hands together. ‘Here we go – party time! I’d better freshen up,’ she said, scampering towards the ladies’ room.

Terri headed further down the restaurant to where Justin was already handing out canapés to the first of their guests.

‘Mr Wonderful and his posse have just arrived,’ the head chef muttered wryly.

‘Yes, I witnessed the caravan,’ she said.

Shortly afterwards, Gary and his leathered-up biker friends came through the door just as Rachel came out of the ladies’. He tossed his helmet onto a nearby chair and grabbed Rachel by the waist, spinning her around. The handful of onlookers already present applauded and Gary grinned while Rachel smiled demurely at him. Then she handed out beers to him and each of his friends, before pouring a glass of champagne for herself.

Terri saw Justin suspiciously eyeing the spectacle. ‘How come his Highness is only rolling in now? Wouldn’t you think he’d have been here earlier to lend a hand?’

‘Give him a break, Justin; this is our speciality, not his. Unless you wanted the kitchen extended or something.’ Now that he was engaged to Rachel, Terri felt somewhat duty-bound to defend Gary.

‘Oh my God!’ The chef was standing open-mouthed, motioning in the direction of the happy couple. ‘Did I just hear her ask him if he liked the dress? She had to
ask
if he liked that dress? I think I need a drink,’ he gasped dramatically and Terri had to smile.

An hour later, thirty or so people were grazing their way through tray after tray of quiches, cheese plates, blinis, and a plethora of other special-occasion goodies. The DJ had finally arrived; he was a friend of Justin’s, who promised to play the perfect party-mix on his iPod through the bistro’s sound system.

Some people were dancing, but Terri was nursing her second glass of champagne when she looked over to see a woman standing in the doorway. There was something vaguely familiar about her, and when someone else came in behind her and a gust of wind caught her strawberry blonde hair, revealing more of her face, Terri knew in an instant who she was.

‘Hello,’ she said, greeting the woman warmly. ‘You must be Gary’s mother.’

‘Yes,’ the petite woman replied, looking pleased to be noticed. ‘Mary Knowles. I feel terrible for being so late, but I’m a nurse and . . . well, I got a bit delayed.’

‘Not at all. Everything’s just getting started really. Come inside and get something to eat. Can I get you something to drink? A glass of champagne, maybe?’

The woman appeared hesitant. Her small stature initially made her seem too young to be Gary’s mother but, with a closer look, Terri noted the lines in her face.

‘Oh, I’m sorry, I haven’t even introduced myself. I’m Terri, Rachel’s friend and co-owner of this place. Isn’t it great news about the engagement? You must be so proud of your son.’

Mary took a deep breath, and cocked her head to one side, as if trying to buy time while constructing an answer. ‘Very proud, yes. And a bit surprised too, I have to say,’ she replied, taking a sip of champagne. ‘That son of mine has been in love with those bikes for so long that I never thought a woman would be able to hold his attention.’

‘Mam,’ Gary called out, approaching them with a smiling Rachel by his side. ‘I didn’t think you were going to come.’

‘Why wouldn’t I?’ She looked at Rachel and held out a hand in greeting. ‘You must be the lucky lady.’

‘I’m Rachel, yes. Oh, it’s so lovely to finally meet you!’ Terri had to smile as typically enthusiastic, Rachel reached forward and gave the woman a warm hug.

Evidently flustered by this unexpected show of emotion, Mary reddened a little and stepped back. She looked from Rachel to her son. ‘Erm . . . yes, well congratulations, both of you.’

‘Thanks so much. And this is the ring – isn’t it just gorgeous?’ Rachel beamed, extending her hand, and Terri watched with interest as Gary’s mum did an actual double-take on catching sight of the ring.

‘Stunning, isn’t it?’ Terri said, and Mary just nodded, apparently dumbstruck.

She looked curiously at her son, as if trying to work out when Gary had become Mr Generous all of sudden. ‘I’d say you spent a fair few quid on that.’

Gary didn’t meet his mum’s gaze and Terri sensed that something unspoken was hanging between them. ‘Ah, well, you know yourself . . .’

Mary smiled at Rachel. ‘It’s beautiful.’

‘Thanks. I must admit it was a big surprise, but a lovely one. Your son really is an old romantic at heart,’ she added, looking lovingly at Gary. Then she clapped her hands together. ‘So, now that everyone’s here . . .’

Terri watched her dash up to the DJ and seconds later the music dropped to background volume.

Rachel stood by the buffet tables and asked for everyone’s attention.

‘Thanks,’ she smiled, as people hushed their conversations. ‘First of all, Gary and I both want to thank you for spending your New Year’s Eve with us and helping us celebrate our engagement.’ She looked at Gary who just shrugged and looked back at her.

Out of sight of Mrs Knowles, Justin rolled his eyes at Gary’s offhand response while Terri bit her lip and stifled a smile.

‘Secondly,’ Rachel went on, and her voice caught a little, ‘as you know, my family is part Sicilian, and I’d like to continue a tradition we Sicilians have, in honour of my parents, who I know would be so proud to see this. It’s also in honour of all of you, who have practically become family to me too.’ Her eyes shining, she leaned down and took out a basket of bread from beneath the linen-covered table. ‘Many of you will have tried my Sicilian olive bread or some variation of it already. Well, this,’ she said with a sway of her hips and dramatic wave of her hand, ‘is the authentic recipe. For those of you who don’t know, it comes from my great-great-grandmother. In Sicilian tradition, this particular recipe is made only for special occasions, and is symbolic of sharing wholeheartedly in the occasion and its fruition. So, if I could ask my husband-to-be to come up and join me in taking a piece . . .’ she said, entreating Gary with a smile. ‘And then we’ll pass around some for you all.’

Everyone clapped as Gary sauntered up to Rachel. She took one piece of bread in her own hand and gave another to Gary, entwining their arms in the traditional wedding pose used for a toast. She took a huge bite and then continued to eat the entire slice, smiling as she did so.

Gary ate a little of his before setting it back down on the table. ‘One of the downsides of marrying a chef is that it’s bad for the old waistline,’ he joked, laughing and patting his stomach. His mates joined in the joke, raising their glasses and shouting.

‘Oh . . . dear . . . God,’ Justin said, coming up beside Terri. ‘And I thought gay men were vain.’

‘But there is something I would like to do,’ Gary continued then and Rachel’s face brightened.

‘As you probably heard, I was in a very bad accident recently, and, believe me, if there’s any justice in life the gobshite that did it will get what’s coming to him,’ he said, jaw tightening. ‘Anyway, I was pretty battered and beaten by the time I got out of the hospital, but that didn’t stop me from continuing with my plans.’ He winked at his fiancée. ‘If anything, it made the surprise even better. Poor Rachel probably felt a bit like I did when that cab hit me, although of course she didn’t have to suffer these ribs.’ Everyone laughed as he paused and made a great show of rubbing his midsection. ‘So,’ he said, turning to her, ‘seeing as I didn’t get the chance to do this properly the first time . . .’ He cocked his head towards Rachel and, after a beat, she figured out his train of thought and took off her ring, handing it to him. With that, and after first making sure everyone had managed to get a good look at the ring, Gary dropped to one knee.

‘Rachel Conti, will you marry me?’ he asked and all the guests cheered.

‘Of course I will.’ There were tears in Rachel’s eyes as Gary slipped the ring back into place.

Justin tut-tutted and shook his head. ‘Drama queen,’ he muttered darkly.

Terri was thoughtful. ‘I don’t know. Look, we’ve always thought that Gary was a prat of the highest order, but maybe we should give him a break? Looks like he’s really into this.’

The chef sighed. ‘Well, think what you like, but if you ask me there’s something very wrong with this picture. The guy has the emotional development of a sea urchin and I for one can’t believe he was planning this before they left, let alone that he’d shell out for a rock that size.’

Terri’s gaze returned to Rachel and Gary. They still had their arms around each other and looked very much like a normal, happy, engaged couple. She looked sideways at Justin. ‘You’re not jealous, are you?’ she teased, nudging him. ‘That Rachel is going to have this big white wedding?’

He snorted. ‘Oh come on!’ Then he shook his head. ‘No, I just can’t believe that our Rachel is actually going to marry this amoeba. Why? What the hell does she see in him? I know she says he makes her laugh, but is it intentional?’

Terri shrugged. ‘Each to their own, I suppose. Just because you and I are hopeless in the relationship department doesn’t mean we should be cynical about everyone else.’

‘Speak for yourself, sweetheart. I know Bernard and I fight like cats but we’re going through a really good patch at the moment.’

‘Knowing you two, that will last for all of a week.’

‘Actually I’ll have you know that he’s planning something really special for our day off tomorrow and . . . oh, speaking of which –’ Justin reached into his pocket ‘– these two phone messages came in while you and Rachel were getting ready earlier. One from the accountant; he was rambling something about an end-of-year VAT return?’ He shook his head. ‘Don’t ask; you know all that stuff is gobbledegook to me. And there’s another from a guy called Ethan Greene, which I forgot to give to Rachel.’ He handed her two slips of paper. ‘He was calling from London –
very
sexy accent – and seemed a bit frantic to be honest . . . something about a big mix-up in New York with Gary.’ He made a face and rolled his eyes. ‘God only knows. Anyway, he said he called Rachel’s mobile and got this number from her voicemail message. Can you pass it on to her tomorrow?’

‘Of course.’ Terri read the piece of paper, frowning. A mix-up – with Gary? What was all that about?

She looked across at Rachel’s betrothed, who, having played the part of the dutiful fiancé, was now right back in the middle of his mates, handing out beer as if it was going out of style, while Rachel did the polite thing and circulated among the guests.

‘What?’ Justin asked, shrewd as always. ‘I think I know that look.’

She shook her head. ‘Nothing.’

But, for some reason, Terri had an underlying sense that this call was significant. What kind of ‘mix-up’ could have happened in New York? Something to do with the accident, maybe? Why else would some English guy be phoning here frantically looking for Gary?

She bit her lip. Maybe Justin was right; maybe there
was
something wrong with this picture.

What else had Gary been up to in New York?

Chapter 16

‘Dad, you should phone the restaurant again,’ Daisy urged Ethan, sounding much older than she was. He smiled at her advice. It was now the second of January and despite his previous attempts to get in touch with Rachel over the holiday period, she hadn’t returned his calls.

He was loath to be too much of a pest, especially when she’d been so nice before; but nice or not, he needed to get his ring back.

‘I know, Daisy, I know.’ He picked up the phone. ‘So you really are OK with Vanessa moving in?’

She sighed heavily. ‘Dad, if you’d asked her to marry you she would have moved in eventually, wouldn’t she? So, since I was OK with that . . .’

‘All right, all right.’ It wasn’t exactly what he wanted to hear but Daisy was correct, and there was little point in pestering her with unnecessary questions. ‘OK. Let’s get this sorted out once and for all.’

This time there would be no pussyfooting around. He would explain the situation to Rachel and outline in full what had happened. Anyway, chances were she and Gary Knowles would have worked it all out by now and he wouldn’t have to explain anything.

‘Then why haven’t they contacted you?’ his subconscious mind asked, but Ethan chose to ignore it.

Having dialled Rachel’s mobile number, he waited as the line connected in Ireland. He really hoped she would answer this time, rather than leaving him to explain himself again to some worker at her restaurant, who obviously hadn’t bothered to pass on his last message. Finally, on the fourth ring, the line was picked up.