Chapter 4

Matt enjoyed his work and one week seemed to blend into another. Six months didn't seem as long as it once did, and the reunion was upon him in no time at all. He booked himself into the best hotel in Westhampton, and travelled north after work on Friday.

On Saturday, he took his sister and his mother out to lunch, and then he and his dad watched Westhampton Wanderers last game of the season together. By six-thirty, he was back in his hotel room preparing for the big night. He showered and shaved then slipped into his best suit, picked up his wallet and a supply of business cards and went down to the bar for a swift, nerve-calming scotch.

He left his beloved car in the hotel car park and called a taxi instead. He figured that to get through the night he would need a few drinks, and he didn't want to have to worry about his licence. The taxi dropped him outside the school reception and Matt tipped the driver generously. Before he went in, he adjusted his tie and smoothed the hair on the back of his head.

Inside, a tall, slim lady with long blonde hair stood behind a school desk. Some school prospectuses lay in front of her, along with a supply of blank nametags, and, to Matt's horror, copies of his school yearbook.

Laura smiled when she saw him. "Matt Marsden." She came from behind the desk to greet him. "I was beginning to think you weren't coming."

"Fashionably late. I only ever turn up on time for meetings with clients. And the boss."

They both chuckled.

"You look good," she said. "You weren't this filled out ten years ago."

"That's what gym membership does for you. Gym, swim, sauna; three times a week. You look good yourself."

"What were you expecting? Did you think I'd have put on five stone just because I've got kids?"

"Well..."

"That's okay. I know it must be hard for you, coming back here. But I for one really appreciate it. Do you remember what you told us your Nana used to say?"

"Yeah, I remember. She also used to say don't look back in anger."

"Your Nana's a wise woman. Bobby's in the bar. He'll be glad to see you. But help yourself to a badge first. Not that you'll need it."

Matt scribbled his name on one of the labels and then attached it to the breast pocket of his suit. Laura was already greeting another arrival. Matt hurried into the bar to find his friend before she could force him into a meeting.

Bobby sat with a group of men near the bar's entrance. "Matty! Go get a bevy, mate, then come and park yourself here for a few. The band doesn't start for a bit anyways."

Matt did as Bobby suggested. He was thankful he didn't have to enter the main hall, where the majority of the ex-pupils had gathered.

'Where's Julie?'

'She's in the main hall. Laura's put her in charge of the entrainment.'

'I'm Sorry that I couldn't make it to the wedding.'

'That's okay. I think I'd rather have been in the Caribbean if I'd had a choice. Nice threads, by the way. How much they knock you back?"

"It's Armani.' They were sitting next to the jukebox, so Matt had to raise his voice. 'I brought it when I qualified and it's the best suit I own. So if you spill anything on it, you'll get the dry-cleaning bill." He pointed at his friend.

"Yeah. But how much?" Bobby persisted.

"Two and half."

"Two hundred and fifty quid? I thought you were fucking loaded." Matt instantly recognised John Nettles. "Fucking hell, even I've got a suit that cost that fucking much."

"No," said Matt, trying to stay calm. "Two and a half thousand. It was handmade from a blend of Italian wools. This shirt was more expensive than your suit, and the shoes... '

'Ohh, ' Nettles interjected. 'Hark at Mr. Ar-fucking-mani and his two hundred and fifty quid shirt. Aren't we the fucking mutt's fucking nuts?'

'Let's just forget it, shall we?' said Bobby. 'We're supposed to be having a good time, not a fucking ruck."

Matt sensed that this whole thing might have been a mistake, but the drinks quickly washed away all trace of the early exchange. They drank, chatted and laughed, and Matt listened eagerly to the questionable exploits of his former classmates.

The time flew by, and things weren't as bad as Matt had expected them to be. There weren't nearly as many divorcees or estranged fathers as he had expected. The people he'd shared his school years with were still lacking in ambition but they seemed happy with their lot, and at least they were less spotty.

A constant flow of ladies wandered into the bar to get drinks, and most came over to say hallo. They were not as tarty as they used to be, neither were they the size of small houses. There was still one slapper in the crowd though.

'Matt! Matt Marsden?' She hurried over to the group as fast as her high heels and short, tight leather skirt would allow.

'Hi, Pauline.'

'You look good.'

'So do you.' Matt was actually thinking mutton dressed as lamb.

She handed him a business card, which Matt put in his pocket without looking at. 'Give me a call sometime, why don't you? We'll hook up.'

Pauline left and the rest of the group gave up suppressing their laughter. Matt wasn't sure why they thought it was so funny.

'Look at her card, ' Bobby said through his giggles.

Matt looked. It was the type of business card usually found in phone boxes. 'Oh. Right. Well, I'm sure she'll need a good lawyer at some point'" our criminal department will be so pleased I gave her my card.'

Just before ten, Bobby looked at his watch and told those assembled that the band were due to start their set. Matt held up his empty glass, and asked if anyone else would like theirs refilled. Bobby and two others took him up on the offer. Bobby accompanied Matt to the bar.

"It's not all that bad after all, is it?" Bobby asked.

"No. I'm quite enjoying myself."

Matt ordered four bottled beers. "Don't suppose you know what line of business Nettles is in?"

"Sales, I think. But I reckon most of his stock comes off the back of a lorry."

"Thought as much. And I suppose his business associates aren't the type of people you'd want to upset?"

'That's putting it mildly.'

The barman opened the bottles and Matt paid him. He picked up one of the bottles and Bobby took two of the others. While he waited for his change, he heard a voice from behind him that he recognised.

"Is that the illustrious Matthew Marsden standing at the bar? Because if it is, I believe he still owes me a drink from all those years ago."

"I always knew that you'd collect on that debt, one day, ' Matt replied without turning around. 'What can I get you?"

"I'll have a Champagne Supernova."

Matt nodded to the barman.

'Ice, Madam?'

"Of course."

Her voice was subtly different. Matt had worked hard to lose his thick Westhampton accent, thinking he would sound more professional without it. Kelly, it seemed, had tried to do the same, but with less success. Her softer accent retained the melodic tempo that Westhamptonians were famous for and coupled with the rich tone of her voice, it made Matt go weak at the knees.

Bobby took the final bottle of beer. "I'll take these through and leave you two alone."

Matt turned to look on the object of his teenage crush. Her long golden locks had disappeared, replaced with a crop of rich brown hair folded up on the back of her head. Two thick strands fell either side of her face, framing it. Her facial features had only changed slightly; no longer those of a fresh, young girl, but matured into those of a woman in her prime. She wore an elegant, long black dress that clung to her hourglass figure.

"Well?" She held out her arms from her sides, awaiting his assessment.

"I'm lost for words."

"In my experience, lawyers always have something to say."

"There's a first time for everything." He paused and then added, "That night, as you blew me a kiss from your doorstep, I took a mental picture that I've carried around with me for ten years. I can see it now."

He closed his eyes. "Your curly blonde hair, that magnificent mini-dress. Long, long legs and those ridiculously high-heeled shoes. It was the best I'd ever seen you look. Some feat because you always looked stunning. But now..."

He snapped his eyes open. "You look more elegant. More divine. More beautiful."

Kelly's make-up failed to hide her blushes. "Thank you.'

She stepped closer to Matt, and placed a manicured hand on the lapel of his suit. She reached up and kissed his cheek then picked up her drink from the bar. Matt gestured towards the door. She led the way and he followed her into the main hall, where the band had already started to play.

For the next hour, Kelly took Matt around the room to speak to his old classmates. The band played loud, making it impossible to hold proper conversations. That suited Matt just fine. Instead, he shook many hands, kissed a lot of cheeks and handed out business cards left and right. After he had worked his way around the entire room, Matt felt like Tony Blair at the ninety-seven election victory party.

The band finished their set with some slow songs. Matt only danced with Kelly, even though plenty of women asked to take her place.

'They could have written this song for us, ' Matt whispered in her ear as the lead singer crooned his way through Baby, Can I Hold You Tonight.

Kelly smiled at him, and then rested her head on his shoulder. Matt held her tighter.

The band thanked their audience and left the stage. A mobile disco replaced them and immediately upped the tempo of the music. Kelly suggested a drink. Matt readily agreed, and they retired to the lounge bar. A group of teachers sat in the corner of the lounge. After politely saying hello and handing out still more of his business cards, Matt joined Kelly at the bar, where she had ordered for them.

"Did you see your picture up on The Wonderwall?"

"Yeah, I saw. Just me and Roy Lakeland from our year. Surprised I didn't see him tonight, thought he'd be showing off his millions."

"So is it as awful as you thought it would be?" Kelly asked. Matt thought she changed the subject a little quickly.

"What makes you think I'd think that?"

"Oh, come on, Matthew." He normally hated his full name, but somehow it sounded right coming from her lips. "You spent every day for seven years with these people. But in the ten years since, the only person you've spoken to is Bobby. I bet your first reaction when you got the invite was to throw it out with the rest of the junk mail."

Matt smiled. "Actually, my first reaction was to send Laura an e-mail telling her where to stick her invitation." They both laughed. "But no, it's not as bad as I expected. Mainly because you're here."

Kelly blushed again. As they stood at the bar sipping, Laura and Julie walked in. Julie ordered drinks, leaving Laura to check on the teachers.

"Hi Matt," Julie said, "I must say, you look good. Your new life must suit you."

"Thanks. You look good yourself."

"Apart from the extra ten pounds that I'm carrying these days."

"I can't see it. Here let me get those." Matt paid the barman.

"Thanks.'

Laura joined them and took her drink. She sipped it and then said, "Thanks for the drink, Matt. And thanks, again, for coming tonight. Everyone was so looking forward to seeing you.'

"You're welcome. I've enjoyed it a lot more than I thought I would."

"And you two seem to be getting on well. Making up for lost time all those years ago?"

Matt raised his eyebrows conspiratorially, and Kelly blushed yet again.

"What time do you have this place 'till," Matt asked.

"The bar has a licence extension until one," Laura told him. "So we ought to be out by half past. But the caretaker is here himself, so I don't think it's going to be too much of an issue."

"Oh, right."

"But don't feel obliged to stay," Laura continued. "It's just good that you came tonight. But you've got a long drive home in the morning. Nobody will think anything of it if you leave early."

"Even," said Julie, "if it was to go somewhere a little more private so that you could catch up with someone in particular."

"Subtlety never was your strong point, was it, Jules," said Laura.

Twenty minutes later, Matt and Kelly were in a taxi heading away from Westhampton Comp.

"Where to then, mate?"

"Do you know anywhere that we can get a good meal?"

"Molly's All-night Café ain't far from here. She does a cracking all-day breakfast." The driver patted his stomach contentedly.

"I was thinking of somewhere with a little more class than a truck-stop."