Calling All Dentists (Calling All... Book 2), page 6
“Looking good yourself Ems,” shouted Dave as he tapped Jeff on the arm and signaled they head towards the left hand bar. Walking away with a wiggle of his rear, it was quite obvious to other people that Dave was gay and he didn’t care what anyone thought of his overly camp persona. Dressed in an almost see-through lemon and yellow glittering, pin stripe shirt and skin-tight black chinos, his gait was light and bouncy and there was an air of opulence about him.
Watching them disappear into the crowd, Emma couldn’t help but feel very suspicious about Dave’s secret Santa recipient, but then she reminded herself that the other two suspects in her investigation were just as likely to find humour in someone else’s misfortune. Momentarily, her heart sank as she recalled her dream and the inner self-image she had. Just don’t smile too widely, she thought to herself as she gulped her drink down quickly, looking for some renewed courage and confidence in the bottom of the glass.
In the space of ten minutes, everyone from the store had arrived and greeted each other with squeals of delight and hugs and kisses like they hadn’t seen their colleagues in months. Some of the people had been to the bar first, while others found the Webb’s table and then did the rounds of saying hello to everyone. They all eyed and commented on ‘Ruby in the red dress’ and then went off again to the bars.
Ruby in the meantime continued to sip perpetually, looking up from her glass from time to time to smile at her constant flow of admirers.
Although Darren hadn’t been over to the table yet, he was in the building. Emma had spotted him chatting to the group of five ‘giggle-girls’ at the bar. He’s old enough to be their bloody father surely, thought Emma, wishing she had worn something a little sexier than the conventional black dress. But she was sexy, even in a plain dress, she tried to convince herself. She was mature, unlike the giggly bimbo-heads whose dress sense left nothing to the imagination and everything to the eye. Surely Darren would be interested in her once he saw her and steer away from the silly little ‘giggle-girls’?
“I knew there was something very different about you tonight Ruby,” said Pete, returning from the bar looking slightly inebriated at such an early stage of the evening – although Ruby was too. The alcohol had removed some of his inhibitions and he merrily attempted to chat away to anyone who would care to listen. The problem was that no one really wanted to hear him piping on about work and dogs, which were the only two things worth noting in his life.
“Oh, do you mean the dress?” asked Ruby.
“No, your glasses, I mean you’re not wearing them. Can you see?” laughed Pete.
Giggling in to her hand like a little girl, Ruby then went to push her glasses up her nose but remembered she wasn’t wearing them, “Oh… yes, I can see. Contact lenses, I don’t wear them often.”
“You look very different,” he said softly and smiled at her, admiringly.
“LADIES AND GENTLEMAN, PLEASE TAKE YOUR SEATS, DINNER IS READY TO BE SERVED,” announced the steward, dressed in a smart dinner suit, standing on the stage. The myriad of waiters and waitresses had gathered around the outer edges of the hall, each holding a basket filled with a selection of white, brown and wholemeal bread rolls. A gentle scuffling sound could be heard, right across the hall, as hundreds of chairs were pulled out from under the tables and the guests began to sit down.
Looking along the length of the Webb’s table, Emma tried to guess where the best place would be to sit down. She wanted to be as close as possible, if not next to, Darren. “Rue, let’s sit down there,” she said, grabbing Ruby by the elbow and dragging her away from Pete.
“Where are we going?” called Pete after them. “Jeff, Dave, down this way.” Beckoning to the others to follow him down to the far end of the tables, Pete followed behind Ruby and Emma.
At the same time, the rest of the staff began to take their seats and sort out who was sitting next to whom in the middle section. Keeping a watchful eye on the seating arrangements, Emma soon realised she had blown it, there were only about twelve seats left and they were split at opposite ends of the long table.
“There are enough seats for all of us here,” said Colin, counting out six seats. The men quickly grabbed a chair each while Emma stood casually looking around the hall for the ‘giggle-girls’ and Darren. Ruby snatched the chair next to Pete on the very end of the row which left only one seat, on the end opposite Ruby and next to Dave. Looking back to the table, Emma realised her hopes of sitting near Darren had been crushed, in fact she couldn’t be further away as she watched Darren and the five pathetic little air-heads saunter over and sit down at the other end. Emma’s mouth turned down as she realised that he wasn’t even aware that she was there at all.
After the rush of bread baskets to the buzzing tables, came bountiful bottles of bubbly champagne and wines. The black and white uniforms of the service staff were dotted around, along the lines of tables, making the hall look like a giant draughts board. Small candle-lit lanterns illuminated each table with a subtle yellow glow and bowls of party poppers and blowers sat invitingly between each lamp waiting to be pulled and bellowed.
“Are you ok?” asked Ruby quietly, leaning across the table on her elbows.
“Yeah, I suppose.” Emma nodded and faked a smile but screwed up her nose at the same time. “Wish we’d sat somewhere else or at least me,” she whispered, indicating with her eyes to the other end of the table.
Ruby leaned over further and looked down the length of the table to see Darren sitting on the opposite side, at the far end. He looked like he was having a fun time chatting and laughing with everyone around him, particularly with the young girls.
“Why don’t you go and talk to him after the meal?” said ruby, pouring out a glass of white wine. Her alcohol consumption had taken on a new vigour as she started to become decidedly braver and a lot chattier. Grinning at Emma she too indicated with her big blue eyes, but only as far as Pete, who was laughing and talking across the table to Dave and Jeff about poor old Mr Kibble and his strange requests to the shop.
“I will,” said Emma, “I’ll get him up on the dance floor later.” Reaching across, she took the bottle of wine from Ruby, winked at her and then poured herself a large glass.
The four course meal turned out to be money well spent as the staff of Webb’s DIY Superstore, wined, dined and became very merry. Subtle Christmas tunes played through the ceiling speakers during the course of the meal, filling the hall with a high-spirited atmosphere, along with the babbling sound of voices, laughter, occasional shouting and the mass clattering of cutlery on ceramic plates.
Ruby bravely joined in conversations with Dave, Jeff, Colin and Pete with renewed confidence and a few hiccups here and there. Her voice had grown louder with every glass of wine and Emma began to wonder just how much she could drink before she became an unconscious heap, slumped across the table.
At least she’s having a wonderful time, thought Emma as she sat quietly watching and drinking. She’d studied every one of her secret Santa suspects throughout the meal and listened in on every conversation trying to pick out any clues as to who did it, but to no avail. Now and again she would nod and smile at them so that she appeared to be taking part in their conversations. At other times she glanced along the table trying to catch a glimpse of Darren but it was difficult to see him seated on the same side as she was. By the squealing sounds of laughter resonating along the table from the ‘air-heads’, Emma guessed that he was the centre of attention amongst that, mainly female, end of the table.
Feeling very alone, Emma had drunk more than she should have and now considered the possibility of being unable to make it to the toilets in a straight line. Although her best friend sat opposite her, Emma much preferred to encourage Ruby to talk to the men, and in particular Pete, rather than talk to her. It also gave Emma a break from Pete’s usually incessant infatuation with her and gave Ruby a chance to win him over, even if it was only for one drunken night. Emma had now decided that she should get Ruby drunk more often – that way her friend might stand more of a chance of hooking up with someone in the future and preferably that someone would be Pete.
As the dinning came to an end, members of the band entered the stage from behind heavy, black curtains and took their positions among the instruments and microphones. Suddenly the lights dimmed and an array of brightly coloured stage lighting filled the hall with dazzling rainbows of flickering light in all shapes and sizes.
The sixties tribute band began their show with a mind-blowing fast paced song from The Beatles. The dance floor remained empty as people got up from their seats, headed for one of the four toilet signs or went to queue at one of the two bars.
“Do you want to go to the toilet Ruby? I’m going now,” shouted Emma over the noise of the guitars and drums. Nodding her head, Ruby wore a wide grin as she stood up, adjusted her dress and then sat straight back down again.
“I feel a bit funny Em,” she giggled.
“Come on, we can help each other,” said Emma standing up and copying Ruby’s actions with her dress. Attempting to stand up again, Ruby toppled slightly and leant right over Pete.
“Oh, sorry Pete,” she laughed, holding on to his shoulders to steady herself.
“Where are you two off to?” he asked, drunkenly.
“Toilet… going for a little wee-wee.” Ruby whispered in his ear and chuckled.
Looking up at Emma, slightly embarrassed, Pete smiled and rolled his eyes. Emma suddenly thought he was quite cute when he did that. Definitely too much to drink, she concluded instantly and shook her head to get rid of the alcohol induced notion of Pete ever looking anything like ‘cute’.
Linking arms, the girls headed towards the nearest toilet sign, supporting each other every step of the way. Ruby’s high heels were unstable as her drunken ankles tilted and tottered their way to the long queue of women waiting outside the ladies rooms.
Noting that Darren was still sat at the Webb’s table with the half-dressed girls, Emma felt quite annoyed that he hadn’t even noticed she was there. He hadn’t even bothered to look for her.
“I’m going to talk to Darren when we get back,” she said, gently pushing Ruby by the waist, along the queue.
“Ok, ask him to come to the other end of the table and he can sit on your lap.”
“Err, no Rue – somehow I don’t think that would be a cool chat-up line,” said Emma, still tightly holding on to Ruby in case she toppled over and caused an embarrassing scene, right outside of the toilet entrance.
Ruby swayed slightly on her heeled shoes. “I like Pete you know,” she said with a new coyness.
“I know you do. Tonight’s your chance Rue. I can tell he likes you too.” Emma wasn’t sure of her last words but had to try and encourage an interest to build between the two of them. Scheming in her head, Emma decided she would point blankly ignore Pete and stay away from him for the rest of the evening, whilst pushing Ruby towards him at the same time. If she did manage to link up with Darren, that alone would speak louder than words – once she was snogging his face off anyway.
Amazed by Ruby’s new personality after consuming quite a few drinks, Emma listened to her chatting away to the women in the toilets. “Oh, I like your dress. Where did you get it from?” she said to one young woman who was wearing a short leather-look, black dress with a low front and back. “I suppose you can’t possibly wear a bra with a dress like that.” The slim blonde smiled at Ruby and shook her head while sticking her chest out revealing a full cleavage. “Ooh… I like your shoes,” she mouthed to another lady, pointing down at the pair of blue suede, three inch heels. “Oh… blue, blue, blue suede shoes… I love your blue suede shoes,” she sang.
“Rue, come on you can share with me,” said Emma, dragging her drunken friend by the arm into a vacant cubicle, as the puzzled but amused faces of twenty or more women stared at them in astonishment.
Expecting Ruby to shriek in disgust at the very thought of sharing a cubicle and being present at the passing of water, Emma hesitated before beginning the process of lifting her dress up and lowering her underwear to sit down. “Are you ok in here?” she whispered.
“Oh, hurry up, I need to go too. Quickly, before I pee my pants,” snorted Ruby before bursting into tears of laughter and crossing her legs tightly.
Dragging Ruby out of the toilets before she could comment on anyone else’s appearance or burst into another song, Emma heaved a sigh of relief as they headed towards their table.
“I’m going to sit on Pete… over there. Oops, I mean sit with Pete,” Ruby said and wobbled off to the end of the table, chuckling.
As she watched Ruby totter off, Emma wondered if her little geeky friend would regret getting drunk in the morning. She also worried now that Pete might regret Ruby being drunk too.
Having just returned from the bar, Pete was sat on his own clutching a pint glass in his hand and a glum look on his face. He appeared to be studying the first brave dancers on the wooden floor, below the stage, as Ruby joined him at the table. He smiled like he was genuinely pleased to see her and Emma knew that now was the time to escape – time to track down Darren, who seemed to have disappeared. She guessed she would most likely find him somewhere in the crowd around the bars.
More women were joining the brave boogie-babes on the dance floor as the band continued to play ‘Golden Oldies’ and play them very well. The lead singer was a middle-aged man of extraordinarily good looks, Emma noted on her way past. He’s probably plastered in loads of thick make-up, she mused, you’d need it under those bright stage lights.
“Hello, how are you?” asked one of the ‘giggle-girls’ as Emma approached the waves of people waiting their turn to order drinks at the bustling bar.
“Oh, hi,” she replied, surprised that she hadn’t noticed the scantily dressed woman before, “Gina isn’t it?”
“Gemma.”
“Oh, I was close, at least I got the first letter right,” laughed Emma nervously, convinced that the perfect girl was talking to her teeth. “Where are your other friends?” Emma desperately searched the sea of bobbing heads that were twisting and turning and moving up and down in the motions of laughter and loud chatter.
“Oh, well Sarah is right there,” said Gemma, turning and pointing to the girl directly behind her who was talking to two young men. Emma nodded and smiled casually to disguise the fact that she didn’t really care where the girls were – she was only interested in Darren’s whereabouts.
“Where are the other three? Err, what are their names, Jade, Mandy and Chloe?”
“Oh, don’t call Amanda, Mandy, she hates it,” giggled Gemma, “They’re over there, in the far corner with Daz. They’ve just made it to the front of the queue.” Rolling her eyes, Gemma tutted, “It’s lovely here but they could do with some extra bar staff, don’t you think?”
“Yes it’s obviously a popular venue at Christmas time. Daz?” Emma smiled, “Is that what you call Darren? For a moment there, I thought you were going to tell me that they were doing their laundry over in the corner.” Emma cringed immediately and bit her bottom lip – what a ridiculous comment to make and more so in her highly regarded professional position too.
“Yeah, we like Darren he’s so funny – we couldn’t ask for a better manager, he’s really cool.” Gemma suddenly burst in to a roar of laughter and cupped her hands over her mouth, “Oh… I get it!” she squealed through her fingers, “Daz – the washing powder!”
Emma rolled her eyes and looked over to the other girls and Darren who thankfully, were totally oblivious to Emma and Gemma’s cheery exchange of lowbrow humour.
“Oh good, I’m so pleased that you all get along with him,” lied Emma, “I don’t know him that well but I’m fully aware that he has done a lot for our company to date.” Emma cringed as she thought about her intentions to snatch him away from his five admirers and have him to herself and what would the girls think of her. Did she actually care? No.
“Think he’s got the ‘hots’ for Amanda you know,” Gemma said to Emma’s teeth, with what looked like a slight look of antipathy.
“Hmm,” Emma replied, “Well good luck to the pair of them.” She hadn’t given up, but Emma felt uneasy and the ugly head of ‘confidence-crusher’ reared up again through her drunken mind. “I’ll catch up with you again later Gemma. I’m going to find Colin and the others. Bye.”
“Ok, bye,” said Gemma, smiling and waving a small delicate hand before she turned around to join in the flirtatious chat with Sarah and two young men from another company.
There were so many different companies in the hall and Emma began to look around at the small clusters of people, gathered together in company-clumps across the whole expanse of the hall. She tried to guess which companies some of the people belonged to. There was a rowdy rabble of young men and women to the right of her, who appeared to be overly flirtatious with each other to the point of confusion, none of them seemed too fussy about which sex their oblique suggestions were aimed at. A subdued syndicate of middle-aged gentlemen scrupulously dressed and looking decidedly stern in their motionless stance, seemed to be top-notch solicitors and barristers and surveyed some of the function’s guests with, what Emma thought, was a look of distaste. She was convinced that they had just contrived to set up a new law firm, right in the middle of the hall, as she strained to listen to their constantly, abbreviated jargon. To the left was a small coterie of female friends who could only be connected to the beauty or fashion trades, Emma surmised, judging by their outlandish hairstyles, crazy, multi-coloured clothing and mad make-up. Some of the other groups remained at their tables, while others bunched together at the bars.
One brave, but obviously very drunk young man had joined the many women that had now ventured to the dance floor. He was the centre of attention and loving it, although his inebriated state must have clouded his judgement, for his admirers and onlookers were actually mocking and taunting him in a mass onslaught of ridicule. Some of the women wiggled around the pathetic man like he was the central handbag, plonked down on the floor as a focal point for their group’s dance-workout. Emma was sure his bosses wouldn’t think he was too cool by the way he was performing – unless he was the boss of course. She smirked and then moved closer to the bar.
