Chapter 7

*****

Twenty-Six Years Ago

Angelo lowers his voice. “I’ll have to move you along tomorrow night, Mitch.”

She looks up from her seat at the bar, frowning, and lays her copy of National Geographic on her lap. “Have I upset someone?”

“No, not at all, but there’s a wedding party in here tomorrow. They’re having the reception downstairs then coming up here for the evening. You know….” He nods towards the curtained-off stage area at the end of the room, shrugging apologetically. “…. DJ, dancing and all that. Sorry, but it’s only for the one night.”

“Fair enough. I’ll probably settle down in the lobby instead then.”

He winks. “Keep a low profile then.”

*****

David, carrying a stack of cake-boxes, halts in mid-stride, staring across the lobby to the seating area near the window.

The woman who sits there, so elegant, so beautifully turned out….

Is that her?

She looks…. different….

The red hair, the pale skin…. But wearing makeup, the hair elaborately up and set….

Is it her?

Shelley?

Stephen comes in behind him laden with garment bags. “Shift up, David. Don’t block the way.”

“Sorry, I just thought I saw….” But as David looks across the room, the woman he saw has her back to him and is talking to a man at the bar. She’s stroking his hand.

Whoever she is, even seen from behind, she is stunningly beautiful.

The man smiles at her, saying something. Something about the smile isn’t entirely pleasant.

He doesn’t deserve a woman like that….

The receptionist bustles up. “David Kimberley? Is that right?”

David turns to speak to her. “That’s right….”

But Stephen pushes in front. “Where are we putting these?”

“You can store them in the cloakrooms for now.” She leads them across the lobby. “If you have labelled everything as we discussed, the garments will be placed in your guests’ accommodation as soon as the rooms are free….”

The receptionist turns to a woman just entering the lobby, a little girl with a head of brilliant orange hair toddling along beside her.

“Can I help you, madam?”

“I'm with the Kimberley party.” The woman looks harassed. “Do you have any creche facilities? Somewhere I can leave my little girl for an hour or so?”

“Of course. I'll page our children's entertainer. Just give me a moment.” The receptionist taps a couple of buttons on a control panel. After only a couple of minutes, a young woman wearing bright casual clothing and a beaming smile arrives.

Glancing at the mother for a moment for permission, she crouches down, offering an open jar to the toddler.

“And what's your name?”

The little girl lisps. “I'm Libby-Beth.”

“Would you like one of these?”

Libby-Beth crooks a finger to her mouth, sucking the tip, but nods, then reaches in for a candy.

“I’m Cindy. You can come and play with me and the other little girls and boys for a bit. Mummy will come for you in a while. Alright?” Libby-Beth nods and then, holding Cindy’s hand, toddles away.

“She's very well-behaved,” comments the receptionist to her mother.

“Oh, yes. She's such a good child. She'll be no trouble to anyone I promise.”

And when David returns a few minutes later to help bring in the bridesmaid’s dresses, the woman he saw and the man she was with have gone.

*****

“Something wrong, Dad?” David adjusts his father’s buttonhole then stands back to view the effect. His father, older now, stooping at the shoulder, straightens up.

David clucks. “Hey, that looks great. Here, let me….” He snags a clothes brush and flicks away some near invisible dust. “Delia’s going to be really pleased when she sees how her new husband turns out.” He looks into Al’s face. “Dad? There is something wrong. What is it?”

Stephen swings round from the mirror, where he has been knotting his tie. “You’re not having second thoughts, are you? You do want to marry Delia?”

Al’s voice grates. “No, I’m very happy to marry her. She’s a wonderful woman. I just wish….” He swallows and looks away…. “Shelley….”

Stephen’s voice is harsh. “She’s gone, Dad. Move on.”

David turns, trying to protest, “Stephen….”

But his brother brushes him off. “Give it a rest, David. This is Dad’s day. We don’t want it spoiled.” He turns to his father. “A new start, Dad. We’ll leave the past behind, eh?”

Al smiles and nods, but the smile is uncertain.