Dixie slapped Freddie’s butt as he disappeared towards the champagne bar, which was still stacked with an impressive pyramid of vintage champagne coupes that glinted and sparkled beneath the enormous chandeliers.
She ducked away into the carpeted quiet of the corridor. Emerging from the washrooms, she ran into Peter.
‘You look very happy. This is good. You are very much in love with this boy?’
She moved closer, reached out a hand to touch the silk collar of his evening suit, then to stroke it flat, patting him on the chest.
‘He’s a good man. It’s taken me a long time to find someone who is both exciting and available. I am happy, Boss. Thank you.’
She tilted her head and looked up at him. He growled a little, shuffled from foot to foot, readjusted his groin. He lowered and averted his gaze. Was he blushing?
‘You really trust him?’
‘As much as I have anyone,’ she said, giving him a knowing look.
He nodded. ‘I am happy.’
‘Good,’ said Dixie, relieved. ‘Now can we go back to the party?’
Returning to the bar area, Peter left her as she searched for Stella and Ana. Both were absent. She wondered whether to be worried for Stella, or, noting Joel’s absence also, excited for Ana. She caught Freddie’s eye and he blew her a kiss from the bar. Spotting a gold Starck love seat just behind her, she opted for a moment just to herself. She’d just close her eyes and enjoy the music, just for a minute. Perhaps there was more to Xavier’s mindfulness than an eyeful. She slipped her shoes off to allow her throbbing feet to cool and shrink.
She was brought out of her reverie by a snort, followed by a cold hand shaking her shoulder.
‘Hello, Dixie? It is Dixie, isn’t it? You’re Fred’s little friend, aren’t you? We have heard SO much about you, we just wanted to introduce ourselves.’
She opened her eyes to see two women who looked like they’d been super-dried in a wind tunnel. They were trying to smile but the skin around their temples and beneath their cheekbones was threatening to split. Their faces were hard and smooth, almost ceramic, and their dresses were obviously nothing less than this season’s catwalk pieces, with jewels weighing down their tiny frames. Dixie snorted as she realised one was wearing a Barbie-like tiara. Money was obviously not an issue, even if their taste was more kept-trophy-whore than class.
Dixie slid back into her shoes and stood so she could look down at them, sweeping her red hair back over her pale shoulders, and smiled politely.
‘Hi,’ she said with as much enthusiasm as she could manage. ‘It is so great to meet you. I am guessing you are old friends of Freddie?’
She tilted her head naively.
‘Yes,’ said the blonde one, ‘and his wife. Our husbands all studied together, so we were always quite the gang.’
Dixie was rattled by the mention of the wife, as well as their smug and provocative grins, but she smiled.
‘Well, it’s great to finally get to meet some of his older friends. Really, isn’t this house just so beautiful? I feel very lucky to be here, to share this special day with Freddie. What are your names?’
‘I’m Holly,’ said the blonde one, poking her chest bone and grimacing. ‘My husband is a CFO.’
‘And I’m Barbara,’ said the Barbie, fittingly, in the tiara. ‘And my husband is a COO-stroke-BDO.’
‘I’m sure he does,’ quipped Dixie. ‘Well, as you know, I am Dixie, and I’m the HBB.’
‘HB? Head of Business?’
Dixie laughed. ‘Hottest Bitch on the Block.’
‘I don’t get it,’ said Holly.
Barbie’s eyes moved.
‘It was a joke.’
‘A joke?’
‘A joke.’
‘Well, whatever you are, you are SO kind to be helping Freddie through everything,’ said Barbie. ‘I’m sure you know what a tough time he has had. We all have. I can’t even imagine how conflicted he must be feeling tonight. How Daisy would have loved tonight! How she would have shone! Sparkled.’
‘Such an elegant woman.’
‘Sophisticated.’
‘Refined.’
‘In fact I am surprised he’s seems ready to embark on a new relationship with Daisy still, well, lying there. But then men, they do like to have a woman at their side, however they are feeling. My Matthew Junior would never been seen at a social event without me. He might be the CFO, but we are the TEAM.’
‘Losing someone must be unimaginably hard,’ said Dixie. ‘Such a shock, such unpredictable trauma, but he seems to be adapting. Just because he’s a widower doesn’t mean his life should stop. I am glad I am bringing him some happiness at least.’
‘Widower?’ said Barbie. ‘Oh darling, that’s a bit premature, surely. Daisy is very much alive, not well, but alive.’
They were both grinning, watching and enjoying Dixie’s confusion. The words hit Dixie full in the face and the aftershock rolled through her like an ice wave. She was panicking. They saw her weakness, her vulnerability and were about to press in for the kill. They knew something she didn’t know; they knew something she’d always feared: everything with Freddie was a lie. Of course it was. People like her didn’t deserve nice things. Of course it was too good to be true. Of course it was. She looked up and saw Freddie coming towards her with drinks in his hands, grinning from ear to ear and she thought she might vomit.
‘Excuse me for a moment,’ she hissed. ‘Something I have to do.’ She turned and left Freddie staring after her, as the two cold bitches closed around him, cooing gleefully.
She fled towards their room. She had to get her things, get the fuck out of there, fast. She couldn’t breathe, she couldn’t think straight, she needed space, alcohol, drugs, anything, and she needed the fucking claustrophobic, skin-tight red dress off her body.
Fuck Freddie, fuck this whole charade. She’d always known this was too good to be true. He was a lying bastard just like the rest of them. Just like her no good, non-existent father, and every other bastard with a Y chromosome.
Finding her way to their suite through a tunnel of tears, she ripped off her red dress, grabbed jeans and a T-shirt, gathered her things, and left, slamming the door. She ran to Stella and Ana’s room.
Stella was slumped half unconscious on the bed.
Dixie was frantic.
‘Stella!’ She shook her. Her top was wet and sticky. Just booze, she hoped.
She was trying to open her eyes, but they appeared to be reluctant.
‘What?’ She sniffed. She’d been crying. She wafted her hand at Dixie. She smelled of sweat and pineapple.
‘Stella, I haven’t got time for this. We’re getting out of here.’
Stella shook her head and smiling stupidly, stroked the satin bedspread.
‘No, Stella. I need you up. Where’s Ana?’
‘Making music with the music man.’ She moaned.
There was a vase of carnations on the bedside table. Dixie took a chance and emptied the contents, water and stems over the soporific Stella, who flailed at the interruption, spitting and cursing.
‘You selfish bitch! I was sleeping.’
‘Precisely. We’re getting out of here. Now!’