Page 28 of One Perfect Day in Lovely Bay
With a champagne flute in her right hand and her left hand tucked loosely into the pocket of her satin trousers, Cally most certainly looked the part. The important thing was, now shefeltthe part too. Not totally. Oh no. There was a little bit of her that still prickled when she conversed with the Henry-Hicks of the world, but most of her was now okay with it. She’d learnt to accept that she was different and that nearly all of the problem with that was hers and nobody else’s. In actual fact, no one else was really interested, which in itself was surprising. The Henry-Hicks of the world were so elevated that they more or less didn’t really care. They didn’t have insight into a world like Cally’s and they didn't want to. They were so very removed from it that it went right over their heads. Once Cally had clocked that, she’d run with it and, in many situations, had realised that it was more than true. Tonight, as people sat around on beautiful old furniture, drank too much, and chatted, it was exactly the same. No one gave a hoot about whether or notshefelt out of place. She’d learnt to suck it up and bowl on in.
Pretending to be interested in Logan’s aunt’s stamp collection, she observed the beauty of the room around her, taking in the details of the ornate ceiling and gorgeous old rugs.Her eyes darted around the room as she nodded politely at Logan's Aunt Agatha's enthusiastic description of her stamps.
'I have one from the first postal run in the Highlands. Can you imagine, dear? A time when getting a letter might take weeks! I rather cherish that stamp.'
'I can imagine you must do. Fascinating,' Cally said as she gazed at the gigantic gilded mirror with a slightly spotted surface alongside the fireplace.
Agatha smiled. 'Of course, some say the stamp is cursed. There are those who believe that the stamp has brought bad luck to every collector who owned it. But that's just superstition. Do you believe in things like that?'
Cally nodded, not in the slightest bit interested. She played along and smiled. 'Oh yes, quite. Superstition, absolutely.' Cally’s eyes drifted to a beautiful seafoam green sofa where Logan was deep in conversation with his cousin, Alastair.
'I also have a particularly rare one from up this way with a mistake on it. Only fifty were ever printed.'
'Really?' Cally tried to inject some enthusiasm into her voice, but all she really wanted to do was stand and gape at the exquisiteness of the room around her. A pair of large, pastel green antique lamps flanked the beautiful sofa, huge fresh floral arrangements were dotted around the room, and a thick plush rug felt amazing underneath her feet.
'It was quite the scandal when they realised the misprint.’
'How dreadful.'
'Are you alright, dear?' Aunt Agatha's voice cut through Cally's observations. 'You seem a bit distracted.'
Cally turned back to the older woman. 'Ahh, sorry. I was just taking in this room. It’s so lovely in here.'
'Ah, right, you’ve never been here before! I see, yes. It is rather splendid, isn't it? All the bits and pieces have been in the family for generations. Every piece has a story. This room hasn’tchanged in all the years I’ve been coming here apart from the odd upgrade or two.'
‘Oh really? I love that.’ Cally gestured to a pair of floral armchairs tucked either side of the fireplace. 'Those chairs, for instance. They're beautiful. Are they very old?'
'Oh, those, gosh yes. They belonged to my grandmother. She brought them all the way from London when she married into the family. Apparently, the story goes that she caused quite a stir, I can tell you. She was heavily into fashion at the time. I suppose it’s a classic style these days.'
As Agatha began to ramble on about her predecessor's arrival in Scotland, Cally saw Logan watching her from across the room in the reflection in the mirror over the fireplace. He raised his glass in a funny little toast and flicked his eyes upwards.
Just as Cally was hoping that someone, anyone, would come and save her, Logan strolled over, joined the conversation and nodded in the direction of the dining room. ‘Time for us to move in there. I hope you two lovely ladies are hungry.’
Cally was ready to eat just about anything and run far from Agatha. ‘I am.’
‘Let the feasting begin.’
The dining room was just as good if not better than the sitting room they’d come from. Though Cally wouldn’t have called it a dining room. In her opinion, it was more like a banqueting hall. Grand and opulent, it gave off a sense of historical elegance, refined luxury and cosiness all at the same time. No mean feat. Beautiful old panelled walls painted in a soft, pastel green, intricate high ceilings and coving topped the walls, and very tall windows were draped with heavy, pleated curtains in shades of green and gold. Running along the centre of the room, a long, polished wooden dining table showed off tall, slender candlesticks with white candles, a gigantic chandelier threwsparkles around the room, and each table setting held a small wrapped gift. A Little Chef this was not.
Logan pulled out a high-backed chair made of dark wood, its seat upholstered in a deep, rich fabric. Cally sat down, tucked herself in, put her feet together, inhaled and stared at an ornate painting in a gilded frame at the far end of the room. She thought about her tiny cramped flat over the deli in the little seaside town. She’d come a very long way indeed.
17
The dinner had been long and drawn out with many courses. As the last of the dessert plates were cleared away, a few people had pushed back their chairs, the candles had burned low, and Cally had started to visualise going to bed. As she sipped a glass of water, coffee arrived by way of a tall silver coffee pot and delicate little coffee cups were passed along the table. After trays of handmade chocolates from Lovely were placed at each end of the table, all of a sudden, Alastair pushed his chair away from him, rose to his feet and tapped his dessert spoon against his water glass. A sharp ding echoed through the room. Cally chuckled to herself. So Logan had been right. Alastair was up to something.
Logan rolled his eyes. ‘Here we go.’
Cally turned her head and shifted in her chair to look down towards the end of the table.
'If I could have everyone's attention for a moment,' Alastair called out.
Logan whispered in Cally’s ear. 'So dramatic. I told you. I can always tell when he’s scheming.'
Cally whispered back. ‘How did you know?’
‘I know him inside out. We were stuck together as children. It comes from that.’
Alastair cleared his throat theatrically. 'My dear family. Octavia and I have an announcement to make.'
