I'm Not in Love (Once Upon a Winter Book 2) Page 5

  As Ross pulled up at the venue, Hannah was surprised to see how upmarket it was. She had expected somewhere like the dusty old village hall she’d once gone to looking for second hand furniture at a bring-and-buy sale, and she hadn’t really concerned herself with more details about where they were heading tonight, knowing that Ross had offered to drive. The building they were outside now was a sweet little hotel that boasted its own ballroom – not the swish luxury she had encountered at far too many wedding receptions than she had the energy to recall – but smaller and more intimate, with a charming, shell-pink art deco façade, and set in modest but pleasant grounds. The trees were strung with fairy lights, the lawns bordered by solar lanterns, gravel paths running alongside neatly trimmed shrubs and hedges. She’d driven past often, but never with an excuse to look inside. Now she was glad to be at the charity night, if only to visit this lovely building, and made a mental note that if she ever needed a party venue, this one would be perfect.

  Inside, the ballroom was decorated for the occasion with all things Latin American – or, at least, the closest the organisers could find in the heart of England – with lights that looked like chilli peppers, paper fans pinned to the walls; red and black streamers and balloons festooned the ceiling.

  ‘This looks fabulous!’ Hannah said as Briony greeted them, looking suitably Latino herself in a corseted dress with waterfall skirt and a tropical flower pinned into her hair. ‘And you look absolutely lovely. I feel I should have made more of an effort now.’

  ‘Nonsense; you look as pretty as a picture. Besides, you could have come in a bin bag for me; I’m just glad you’re here.’

  Hannah laughed. ‘Thank you for being so kind.’ She gestured at Gina. ‘This is my sister, Gina. She’s come all the way from Birmingham to chaperone me.’

  Gina smiled. ‘It’s lovely to meet you.’

  ‘I’m so happy you could both come and support the event,’ Briony replied, beaming at the sisters in turn.

  ‘Has your husband come tonight?’ Hannah asked. ‘I haven’t seen him in ages and I’d like to say hello.’

  ‘He has, but I have no idea where he is now,’ Briony said as her gaze swept the room. ‘I expect he’ll make an appearance when the band starts playing. Paul never misses an opportunity to dance and the passionate ones are his favourite.’

  Somehow Hannah couldn’t equate the no-nonsense farmer with a passionate ballroom dancer, but she supposed it just went to show that people concealed all sorts of surprises. ‘I look forward to seeing him in action later,’ she said. ‘Will you be giving us a demonstration of your prowess on the dance-floor too?’

  ‘Just try and stop me!’ Briony said cheerfully. ‘And I suppose somebody has got to put their feet out for Paul to tread on, haven’t they? It might as well be me as some other poor woman.’ She looked at Ross who had been watching the exchange with an expression of faint amusement. ‘Why don’t you be a gentleman and hang coats up for these lovely ladies?’

  Ross grinned. ‘If I must.’

  As Hannah and Gina removed theirs to hand to him, Ross shrugged off the battered old donkey jacket he had been wearing to reveal an unexpectedly sharp suit beneath it. The ensemble fitted him so perfectly and so flatteringly that it could have been cut especially for him. Hannah mused that it probably had been. He looked handsome, and Hannah chanced a peek at Gina, who seemed to be admiring the view too, though she probably wasn’t thinking about the tailoring of his jacket. As Briony directed them to the bar to get drinks, Gina leaned in to Hannah and whispered, ‘Bloody hell, he looks gorgeous! This is cruel! Don’t blame me if I end up taking him home tonight.’

  ‘I don’t know how you’re going to do that when you’re staying at my house tonight.’

  ‘You don’t mind if I borrow the spare room for an illicit shag, do you?’

  ‘Yes I bloody well do!’ Hannah laughed. ‘You’ll have to take your illicit shag elsewhere. And please, please do not let Briony find out.’

  Gina slipped her arm through Hannah’s. ‘Don’t worry little sis, I won’t embarrass you. For once I’ll be a very good girl.’

  Hannah shot her a sideways look. ‘Thank you! Don’t forget I have to live here.’

  ‘Seriously, though,’ Gina continued, ‘do you think he dances? If his mum and dad are into dancing do you think Ross is?’

  ‘I don’t know,’ Hannah said, ‘but I expect we’ll find out soon enough.’

  ‘If he does, and he’s good, I’m not sure my self-control will hold. It’s only fair I warn you now.’

  ‘I’ll be there to keep you sane, so don’t panic.’ Hannah gave her a wry smile. ‘Maybe if I ply you with enough drinks you’ll have collapsed by that point and I won’t have to worry about you getting into trouble then.’

  Ross’s dad, Paul, was at the bar. He looked every inch the farmer, no matter what he wore. He greeted them both with a warm smile and a brief enquiry after Hannah’s health before returning to a rather intense conversation he’d been having about the state of the nation’s economy. It was early, and many of the invited guests were still to arrive, which made it easy for Hannah and Gina to get drinks.

  ‘Do you think we should get a couple each?’ Gina asked as she brandished a twenty pound note to let the barman know that they were waiting for service.

  Hannah raised her eyebrows. ‘Are you kidding?’

  ‘In case it gets really busy later and we can’t get served.’

  ‘If you get a reputation as a lush it won’t matter, but I don’t want to be the subject of feverish gossip on Holly way with people who think I have a drink problem.’

  Gina giggled. ‘Alright Miss Prissy Knickers – it was just a suggestion.’

  ‘Hmmm…’ Hannah turned her attention to the main doors where more guests were starting to trickle in. ‘Do you think I’m underdressed?’ she mused out loud as she noted some rather spectacular ball gowns.

  Gina looked around and then caught sight of what Hannah was looking at. ‘God, no!’ She lowered her voice. ‘I’d say they were a bit overdone if anything… I mean, look at those two…’ She angled her head as discreetly as she could in the direction of a couple of elderly ladies, ‘they look like Hinge and Brackett.’

  It was Hannah’s turn to let out a loud giggle. ‘I didn’t like to say it, so I’m glad I could count on you. I probably should have checked the dress code with Briony though.’

  ‘So should they,’ Gina grimaced. ‘Unless they’re the drag act.’

  ‘Gina!’ Hannah squeaked, trying to put on a shocked voice but laughing through it just the same. ‘You’re terrible! I’m not taking you anywhere again.’

  ‘Yes you are, because you have more fun with me than anyone else.’

  ‘Oh…’ Hannah grinned, ‘annoyingly, you might have a point there.’ She felt a light tap on her shoulder and turned to find Ross behind her.

  ‘Can I get you ladies anything?’ he asked.

  ‘I think Gina is ordering now, but thanks. In fact, we should be buying you drinks for all the favours you’ve done for us lately.’

  ‘In that case I’ll have a pint of Stella,’ Ross replied with an impish look.

  Hannah smiled, only too pleased to make some small gesture of gratitude. It was the first time he’d agreed to take anything from her. She nudged Gina. ‘Can you get Ross a pint of Stella?’

  Gina grinned. ‘For Ross… anything.’ As she turned back to add the order to the barman, Hannah felt herself blush on Gina’s behalf. Her sister might not know how outrageous her flirting was, but Hannah did, and she suspected Ross did too. He didn’t seem to mind, though.

  ‘I’d better make this the only one,’ he said, ‘seeing as I’m driving you home later.’

  ‘I did say we could get a taxi. It’s good of you but we don’t expect you to abstain on our account.’

  ‘It’s ok. I have to be up pretty early anyway and I don’t really want to leave Sally all alone in that great big scary car park all night now that I’ve
brought her out.’

  ‘Oh my God, that car is your actual girlfriend, isn’t it?’ Hannah laughed.

  ‘She’ll do just fine in the absence of a real one,’ he replied cheerfully.

  Once Gina had collected their drinks they found a table where they could sit together and chat until the party really got started. Hannah wondered from time to time why it was that Ross chose to stay at the table with them for as long as he did. There were lots of people he knew arriving, as he pointed out on many occasions – indeed, quite a few walked over to say hello. But none could prise him away from Hannah and Gina’s company, not even his mum. There was no shortage of conversation either, and he happily chatted about life on the farm and his hopes for the future, interspersed with enquiries about both Hannah and Gina’s plans for the coming year. Three more rounds of drinks quickly followed the first, and by the time the band had started to play, Hannah was so pleasantly tipsy that she had quite forgotten she didn’t actually know how to salsa and was itching to have a go.

  Paul Hunter started the ball rolling, enticing Hannah up from the table while Gina watched and clapped her encouragement.

  ‘I don’t know how!’ Hannah protested, but laughing all the same, and he was only too happy to lead the way, showing her simple steps that she soon got the hang of until she was loving the feel of the music vibrating through her and the swaying of her body to the rhythm. It might have been the gin, but salsa dancing was intoxicating. She looked around to see that Gina was now on her feet too, being whirled around by Ross, who was also surprisingly light on his feet. Hannah wanted to ask him later how he’d learned to dance so well. It was yet another surprising thing she’d discovered about him. Briony was dancing with the vicar, and then the song ended and everyone swapped partners, Hannah now found herself with Ross, and Gina danced off with a tall, balding man, who was apparently the hotel owner. Was that regret, longing – perhaps both – on Ross’s face? Hannah wanted to ask him about that too, but realised it was probably the booze making her think of something so inappropriate. And right now, she wanted to get drunker, dance faster, laugh harder, and forget herself in the moment, just for once. As she began to dance again with Ross, she felt wonderfully free, all her worries falling away as she twirled and skipped to the beat, Ross’s sure footwork making it easy for her to follow his lead.

  ‘I thought you said you couldn’t dance,’ he shouted over the music.

  ‘I thought you said you couldn’t either,’ Hannah shouted back, ‘you’re brilliant, a regular little Fred Astaire!’

  ‘Did I say that?’ Ross grinned. ‘I might have been trying to preserve my street cred.’

  ‘I never had any to preserve,’ Hannah laughed, ‘which is why I totally meant it when I said I couldn’t dance.’

  ‘You’re not bad for a novice. You’ve got natural rhythm.’

  ‘Have I?’ Hannah smiled.

  ‘Absolutely. And you’re light on your feet.’

  ‘Oooooh… Flatter me more you lovely man,’ Hannah giggled.

  Gina twirled past them and called over. ‘Still standing, sis?’

  ‘Cheeky cow!’ Hannah shouted back. ‘You’re the one with two left feet.’ But she couldn’t help but admire the grace with which Gina spun and sashayed, not a step out of place or a beat missed. She caught Ross looking again and wondered how many other men were having similar thoughts about the newcomer in their midst. It was possible that Gina might cause a riot if she moved onto Holly Way, so it was probably a good thing that she was planning to head into Millrise itself when she finally left Birmingham.

  The tempo of the music moved up a gear, and Hannah soon found herself struggling, even with Ross’s help.

  ‘I’ll have to sit this one out,’ she panted.

  ‘I suppose I’ll have to go and steal your sister from the vicar then,’ Ross laughed.

  Hannah wobbled on her heels as she made her way back to their table.

  It was disappointingly empty of drinks – although there were plenty of empty glasses – and Hannah was gasping, not to mention sobering up rather quicker than she was happy about. Grabbing her purse from where she had stowed it underneath the table, she tottered over to the bar. The balls of her feet were throbbing, but the music still had her itching to dance and she drummed her fingers to the rhythm on the bar as she waited to be served. Maybe she’d grab a quick drink and throw herself back in, difficult steps or not.

  It took a good ten minutes for any of the bar staff to get to her and she watched the dance-floor while she waited. Ross’s dad, Paul was now dancing with Briony, and they looked so happy. Briony giggled like a schoolgirl as Paul swept her around and dipped her low to the ground in his arms as if she was weightless.

  Gina had somehow managed to end up dancing with one of the Hinge and Brackett women, but she was laughing at something the woman had said. Hannah guessed that her sister might well be drunker than she was, but she’d lost count of Gina’s shots after the first five.

  Once she’d finally got her drink, and an extra one for the road (clearly now too drunk to remember what she’d said to Gina earlier about looking like a lush), she flopped into a chair at their table and sipped happily. Then Gina spotted her from the dancefloor, made a time-out sign and bounced over to join her.

  ‘Give us that spare one,’ she said as she sat down.

  ‘No chance! Do you have any idea how long I just queued for that?’ Hannah swiped it out of her reach.

  ‘Oh, come on… you have two and I’m parched. Stop being so mean!’

  ‘Get your own, lazy cow.’

  Gina pointed across the room theatrically. ‘OH LOOK! Johnny Depp just walked in with his widger out!’

  ‘Nice try,’ Hannah laughed, ‘but you’re not getting this drink.’

  Gina pouted. ‘Fine… I’ll just have to get Ross to buy me one.’

  ‘You do that.’ Hannah gave her a tipsy smile. ‘I’ll just sit here and love my spare.’

  Gina grinned and seemed to pirouette out of her chair, taking a strange, lopsided route across the dance-floor in search of Ross. Hannah’s smile was wide as she watched her try to walk straight, doing her best to look sober. She was so glad they’d decided to come tonight. There’d been so many moments when she’d decided against it but now she couldn’t remember the last time they’d had so much fun together out of the confines of her cottage.

  Hannah should have known that whenever she let such a smug thought creep into her head, fate would make certain that it backfired spectacularly. She’d been minding her own business, just her and her hard-won Bacardi (at least she thought it was Bacardi but she couldn’t quite remember what she’d ordered now) when the doors to the ballroom opened and two newcomers walked in.

  ‘Bloody hell!’ Hannah groaned. She watched as Briony glided over to greet the couple, and the man turned to scan the room until his gaze fell upon Hannah. Mitchell didn’t smile, but looked as shocked to see her as she was to see him. Hannah quickly looked away, but not before she clocked that Martine had seen her too. Had Hannah been closer, she might have seen how cold her smile was.

  Shit! There was no escape now. Hannah had been having a perfectly brilliant night, and now this. It wasn’t fair. Please, God, don’t let them come over here…

  God was obviously washing his hair or checking his lottery numbers or something, because even as she uttered the prayer, Mitchell and his perfect wife began to make their way over to Hannah’s table. In a life that now seemed to consist entirely of coincidences, Hannah shouldn’t have been surprised that Martine and Mitchell would know Ross’s mum. It was so obvious – Briony was a tireless fundraiser and local busybody with a reach into the surrounding area, and Martine was the glamorous GP with an equally attractive and successful husband, the sort of people who would be invited to everything. Why wouldn’t they be here? Hannah was only surprised that it hadn’t occurred to her before.

  She looked up as they stopped at her table and tried her best to smile.

&n
bsp; ‘Hannah…’ Martine said, ‘what a pleasant surprise to see you here.’

  ‘I was thinking just the same thing when I saw you,’ Hannah replied, hoping that they couldn’t see through her thin veneer of courtesy.

  ‘Do you know the organisers?’ Mitchell asked.

  ‘Briony’s a sort of neighbour. I mean, in the sense that she lives on Holly Way, though I can’t see her house from mine. Do you know her?’

  ‘Not terribly well,’ Martine said. ‘We’re friends with the Olivettis though.’

  Hannah looked blank.

  ‘The hotel owners,’ Martine clarified. ‘Mitchell worked on the hotel renovations… at least his men did.’

  ‘It seems I did a good job too,’ Mitchell said with a faint smile, ‘although I can’t actually remember doing it.’

  ‘You still can’t remember?’ Hannah asked. Her tone was incredulous, perhaps even a little accusing, but she couldn’t help it. It was as if he didn’t want to remember. Was this normal? It had been three weeks since his accident on Christmas Day. ‘Sorry…’ she added and blushed as she realised just how rude her comment probably sounded. ‘I’ve had a bit too much to drink…’

  Martine’s gaze swept the table full of empty glasses. ‘It certainly looks as though it’s been a good party so far.’

  ‘They’re not all mine,’ Hannah said, her blush deepening as she arranged them into a neat cluster at the centre of the table, as though collecting them up would somehow make them look less incriminating.

  ‘I’m sure they’re not,’ Martine said. ‘It just makes me cross that we’ve arrived so late.’

  Hannah tried to smile again, but as she looked at Martine, she was suddenly and acutely aware of what a drunken sweaty mess she must look right now. Before Mitchell’s gorgeous wife had arrived, with her floor-length black evening gown, her hair cascading down her back in perfect blonde curls, her lashes supernaturally long over sapphire-blue eyes, Hannah hadn’t cared that her own lashes were now sliding down her face from bloodshot, tipsy eyes, because she was having too much fun. Suddenly, it was all such hard work again. Her attention turned to Mitchell. In his black tie and crisp white shirt he looked incredible. Her treacherous heart skipped a beat. Damn it, now she felt even more of a mess.