The Birthday Present by Pamela Oldfield Read Free Book Online

hand and, smiling, kissed it gingerly.
    As though she might be infectious, thought Rose, with a sudden inexplicable resentment. He seemed too cool and calculated – but then he was obviously a very superior person and she, Rose, was just a singer. Letitia, her hands clasped, was looking at him adoringly and Rose had to admit he was almost perfect – expensive clothes, gleaming shoes with laces tied in perfect bows, a handkerchief sticking out from the breast pocket of his jacket, a fancy embroidered waistcoat. The perfect fiancé.
    And he had said ‘what!’ and in Rose’s experience only rich people said that.
    She smiled at him politely and said, ‘Nice to meet you, Mr da Silva.’
    Letitia said, ‘I’m sure he won’t mind if you call him Bernard just for tonight. You won’t will you, darling?’
    ‘Not at all.’
    At once Letitia slipped her arm through his. Rose tried to imagine their wedding which would be very grand.
    Mrs Bray came in and whispered something to Letitia and everyone made their way into a large dining room which had been tastefully decorated with flowers and ribbons for the occasion. There were other people who all seemed to know each other and when they sat down Rose counted thirteen. Unlucky thirteen! Had anyone else noticed, she wondered anxiously.
    Marcus looked at Steven. ‘Isn’t your girlfriend coming?’
    Steven frowned as though it was an effort to think. ‘I may have said Friday,’ he confessed.
    Letitia said, ‘Oh God, Steven! What an idiot you are!’
    Accusing faces turned his way and he said, ‘Or maybe I didn’t. Maybe she’s ill or something. How do I know?’
    There was a fraught silence while everyone tried not to recognize the significance of the missing guest. Marie’s eyes had widened fearfully and she covered her mouth with two fingers as she turned to Marcus for help. For some reason he glanced in Rose’s direction and she sensed a growing panic. She jumped to her feet and pretended to do a recount. Then she smiled. ‘No! It’s only twelve. I’m not a guest, remember. I’m a present! I’m Marie’s birthday present from Marcus!’
    Within seconds everyone was laughing and the atmosphere relaxed and the threatened disaster was averted. Rose sat down feeling pleased with herself and Marcus sat down beside her. He leaned across and kissed her lightly on the cheek. ‘That was very clever, Rose,’ he whispered. ‘What would we do without you?’
    ‘More to the point, Marcus – what will you do if Steven’s friend turns up?’
    ‘We’ll worry about that if she turns up.’
    Mrs Bray, flushed with excitement, came in and out with various trays and platters – cold ham, prawns in aspic and smoked salmon. Various bowls of salad and butter were already on the table and warm bread rolls were brought round. The wine flowed and so did the conversation. Rose could hardly believe that she was sitting there in such exalted company and at such a table. The cloth was white damask, the glasses glittered in the light from the candelabras and flowers floated in low glass bowls along the centre of the table. She reminded herself that she, too, was to marry a rich man as soon as she was famous.
    Marcus rose to his feet and made a toast to his sister and everyone drank to her health and happiness. At the head of the table Marie positively glowed with pleasure.
    Looking round at the rest of the smiling faces, Rose found it easy to pretend that their joy was not tinged with sadness.
    Next morning Rose woke early and for a few seconds wondered where she was before the events of the previous night returned to put a broad smile on her face. An evening to be remembered, she thought happily. Her performance had been received with rapturous applause and later Rose had felt a great rush of pride when she saw tears of joy in Marie’s eyes as she presented her with the parasol. Altogether, the birthday party had been a wild success. Letitia was delighted and even Bernard had unbent