Bad Heir Day Read Free Page A

dread to think what happens when you do,” Anna snapped, immediately regretting it. For some reason she didn’t want him to think she was a harridan. As he put a nervous hand over his mouth to stifle a rather forced-sounding cough, she noticed the signet ring that glinted on his finger. Anna stared at it, surprised. But then why shouldn’t a waiter wear a signet ring if he wanted? It was disturbing to realise that Seb’s values—that only the wealthy and well-born were allowed rings with coats of arms—were seeping through.
    “My name’s Jamie Angus,” he told her, proffering his hand. It felt cool and reassuring over hers.
    “Anna. Anna Farrier,” she mumbled, embarrassed both at how prosaic it sounded beside his own splendidly Caledonian affair and also at the waves of attraction thudding up her arm, down through her stomach, and straight into her gusset. I must be drunk, she thought wildly. Guiltily, even, until, suddenly, the memory of Seb’s hand on Strawberry’s naked back flashed into her mind. Slowly, reluctantly, she withdrew her hand from Jamie’s and, looking at him, smiled.
    His wide, dark eyes, Anna noticed, were as far removed from Seb’s spiteful blue ones as soft malt was from a vodka martini.
    “Did you come on your own?”
    “I came with my boyfriend, actually.” Damn . Why the hell had she said that?
    The warm light in Jamie’s eyes died away.
    “Although,” Anna gabbled, desperate to limit the damage, “he seems slightly more interested in one of the other women guests.”
    “Well, he must be mad,” Jamie said, with what could have been no more than usual politeness. Silence descended. In an abrupt change of tack, Jamie asked her if she’d ever visited Scotland at the exact same time she asked him if he’d worked here for long. “No,” was the mutual and simultaneous answer.
    “Not exactly,” Jamie elaborated. “I’m just helping out.”
    “I think it’s beautiful,” Anna said.
    Another pause followed. Unwilling to risk banalities, Anna stared silently out of the window at the moonlit loch. The waves flexed tiny, tight muscles beneath the surface of the water, while the path of light lay sparkling above, leading to the distant horizon and the dawn. She stared hard at the stars glowing like Las Vegas in the blackness of the sky and tried to work out which of the constellations she could see.
    “Is that a planet over there?” she ventured, pointing at a very bright star to the west. “It looks very bright. Is it Venus?”
    “No. That’s the planet easyjet.” Jamie said it gently but sounded amused.
    Anna reddened in the darkness as the star moved steadily through the sky, accompanied by a bright flashing light. Astronomy had never been her strength. Orion’s belt was about her level, and she wasn’t altogether certain of that. The one she was staring at seemed to have fewer notches than last time. Perhaps he’d been losing weight. Lucky old him.
    “I’d better get back,” Jamie said. “The cake needs cutting. And I think the disco has started in the Great Hall.”
    He led her back down the passage and gave her a swift, sweet, farewell peck on the cheek before propelling her through a door which, unexpectedly, opened directly into the cavernous, vaulted room, amidst whose friezes and flagstones the disco was indeed in full swing. Or swinger—a superannuated Ted with a thinning, greying quiff proudly presided over a console emblazoned with the words “Stornaway Wheels of Steel Mobile Disco.” As the cacophonous blare of “The Locomotion” filled the air, Anna’s heart sank in depressed recognition of the nuptial-attender’s ritual nightmare, The Wedding Disco From Hell.
    She glanced around the scattered strobe-lit crowd for any sign of Seb. Or Strawberry. Neither was in evidence. Taking care to position herself as far as possible from Orlando Gossett, currently investigating the buffet at one end of the room, Anna headed for the bar and drowned her sorrows