‘I would, if I could afford it,’ declared Vivienne emphatically.
You could do with it, Colette thought, thinking how florid the other woman looked, and how even the heavy foundation she wore couldn’t hide her broken veins.
‘So come and sit beside me and tell me what you’ve been doing all these years,’ Vivienne demanded. ‘I believe you live the life of Reilly in New York.’ She cocked an eye at Colette. ‘Why does that surprise me, you were always a go-getter. Just like your parents. There was a time they were never out of the papers with all the tribunals. I believe they made a fortune and us poor taxpayers are paying for it,’ Vivienne said tipsily. ‘Where’s your OH?’ Isn’t that the jargon they use these days?’
I should be getting ready to party in Park Avenue, not listening to mindless wittering, Colette thought glumly, pasting a faux smile on her face and wishing she was a million miles away.
An hour later she whispered to Hilary, ‘I’m going to go to bed. I don’t think I could cope with “Auld Lang Syne” and all that stuff and I want to call Jazzy. See you tomorrow.’
‘Ok, I hope the noise won’t disturb you. It won’t be an all-nighter. People will start drifting off after midnight.’ Hilary walked with her to the stairs. ‘I know this is a hideously difficult night for you, but this year is almost over and a new one is starting and hopefully it will be a much better one for you,’ Hilary said warmly.
‘Always the optimist, you are.’ Colette sighed. ‘Night, Hilary. I’m off. Here’s Viv and she’s plastered.’ She hurried upstairs, desperate to avoid another ear bashing from her former friend.
‘She’s got very stuck up. Mind she was always a snooty little wagon,’ Vivienne declared crossly as Colette disappeared up the stairs.
‘She’s not feeling great,’ Hilary lied. ‘Come on, the lads are going to play a Dubliners set to bring us up to midnight.’
‘And the auld triangle went jingle jangle,’ sang Vivienne, forgetting all about Colette and her moods.
‘So where are you, sweetie?’ Colette kicked off her shoes, positioned her cell under her ear while she unzipped her Chanel LBD and shimmied out of it.
‘Jackson and I are taking Dad to dinner in the Palm Court, and afterwards when we’ve dropped him home we’re going on to a party in the Village.’ Jazzy’s clear tones floated down the line.
‘Sounds fun. Is Des going to the McLean-Butlers to ring in the New Year?’
‘No, he’s not in the form for it. He’s having an early night. Are you having fun? I can hear a party going on.’
‘I miss you. I’m lonely. I’m going to bed now. It would be too sad to see in the New Year without you.’ Colette sank onto the bed, weary.
‘You should have stayed with Gran and Gramps,’ Jazzy said.
‘That would have been even worse. It will be over soon and I’ll be back in London in a few days. You have fun tonight. You’re young and in love, the best way to be on New Year’s Eve. Enjoy it and don’t forget I love you.’
‘I love you too, Mom, goodnight. Talk soon.’
‘Bye, sweetie.’ Colette tried to keep her tone light, not wishing her daughter to worry about her. And as for Des, she wouldn’t put it past him to have that woman sleeping in their bed with him tonight. Early night indeed, she thought furiously as she slipped her phone back into her bag. She undressed and slipped her silk nightie over her shoulders and climbed into bed. It was cold. She should have thought to put on the blanket for ten minutes before she got in.
Downstairs the party was in full swing, the group giving Dicey Reilly welly, the guests joining in enthusiastically. Colette lay under her duvet, tense and deeply unhappy. Would this night never end? Next year, even if she had to spend New Year’s Eve on her own, she would stay in London and pretend it was just an ordinary night. Solitude would be far preferable to this purgatory. Outside she could hear fireworks going off randomly and dogs barking. In desperation she sat up and rooted in her handbag and found a blister of Zimovane she had filched from Jacqueline’s medicine cabinet. She was tempted to take two so she could sink into oblivion but she decided against it. She wanted to be able to drive home under her own steam. The sleeping tablet took effect surprisingly quickly and by the time the clock struck midnight and the assembled guests stood at the front door singing ‘Auld Lang Syne’ to an accompaniment of fireworks, ships’ horns and howling dogs, Colette was dead to the world.
‘Happy New Year, Jonathan.’ Murray enveloped him in a bear hug that seemed the most natural thing in the world.
‘The same to you, Murray.’ Jonathan returned the hug, having spent the happiest New Year’s Eve in a long time. With Murray’s arms around him he had the surest sense of knowing that he had found his way home.
‘Happy New Year, Hilary.’ Niall drew his wife to him and kissed her tenderly. ‘It’s a terrific party, thanks for everything. I love ya!’
‘I love you too, and thanks for providing the music for my party,’ she grinned, wrapping her arms around him and kissing him passionately.
‘Get a room, you two,’ Millie teased, embracing her parents when they stepped away from each other.
‘Happy New Year, Mam, Dad, Millie.’ Sophie put her arms around them all and gave a tipsy giggle, making room for her grandmother who had joined them.
‘Your Dad and Margaret, I’d say, are very happy looking down on us all here tonight. It was a great party and so nice for us all to be here together. Thanks for having such a lovely family night,’ Sally declared, embracing her Hilary. ‘Aren’t we
