A Glass Winter 2

The bottle exploded angrily on the marble floor.

“FUCK!” Vanessa screeched. It was a good rosé as well. The noise was just enough to make everyone look up from their drinks, they are cheered – not helpful – laughing as she gazed down at the scene like it was the climax of some tragic play. Before long the inane babble of their 30 or so guests continued. Vanessa left with the reality of a thousand shards of glass to be dealt with. She began cleaning, then, realising how drunk she was, stopped.

“Here, let me”, Rayleen was bending down with a cloth and a smug smile.

“No, its fine” She insisted “Just hand me the – “

“Come on!” Rayleen looked stern, perhaps she was also a little too drunk for the task. “This is your night Van, don’t spend it picking up glass. Go have fun”

Reluctantly she agreed, although secretly she would have been glad of a break. An excuse not to have to talk to anyone, laugh at some humourless comment or feign interest in Sarah’s new found passion – juicing. Clutching her drink, relishing the cold glass hand, she had one supportive friend at least. She Drained it of vodka, Refilled, and joined the buzzing crowd.

Theo was watching her, surrounded by a group of men from his firm. He really should have been paying attention, but she was drinking a lot tonight, she had been drinking too much lately. While considering how to approach it without causing a drunken scene in front of his boss, he realised at least half of the gruff circle of suits was staring at him expectantly.

“Hmm?” He offered a questioning grunt.

“Just congratulating you on the Martson case” Mr overly said, his voice grating like a machine.

“Oh, yes!” He replied, perhaps too exuberantly

“Just glad it’s over, he was a –“  he stumbled, remembering who was listening “ – a character”. The word cunt caught in his throat and he sipped his drink. Nobody had seemed to notice, although he thought he saw something in the eyes of Mathew. Young Mathew everybody called him, for he was by far the fresh faced litigator of the group, the bouncy brown curls and bright eyes didn’t help his case in this sense. They held each other’s gaze for a moment, sharing a silent laugh. He cast around again for Vanessa, but she was lost in the torrents of people.

“I’ll have a white Russian” Mathew called to Nancy the housemaid. The circle of suits had disbanded, leaving Theo and Mathew reviling the degenerate Marston: at best simply rude and arrogant, at worst a racist pig.

“A white Russian?” Theo laughed. Why were young people forever flitting from one fascination to another, it was too much at odds with his need for solidity, stability. Mathew only smiled, his wide mocking grin. He called Nancy back.

“Make that two” He popped an ice cube into his mouth, “Never too old to try new things Mr Winter”

“I’m not old” Theo scoffed.

“You’re married though”

“So? You could be married. Doesn’t mean shit”

Mathew considered this, then said “No, not for me”.

“Just wait, you’ll meet some girl. Just don’t invite me to your wedding, think I’m busy that day”

Theo winked at him and slipped off to find the now definitely drunk Vanessa. After a few minutes of searching the bobbing heads, he comes across Rayleen, Vanessa’s sister.

“Alright sailor?” She half grabs half falls against his chest. Are all the whole family lightweights, he wonders.

“Rayleen. Rayleen?” She regained consciousness, clearly struggling to focus her eyes on his face, they kept drifting to the left as If a train was going by.

“Where’s Van?” He asks, slowly. She spends a good minute massaging her head, its wild hair almost bursting out of some sort of hippie headband. She leans in to his ear.

“Bedroom” She gasps. He turns to go. “Wait! Who is that snack over yonder” She laughs insanely.

“Who” He tries to follow her meandering finger “Oh, Mathew”

“Mathew” She breathes lovingly. “Is he – “

“– Single? No” He leaves her looking disappointed. Not knowing why he had lied, or why his heart was pumping so fast.

He found Vanessa lying on their bed, empty glass in hand. “Here” He thrust a cup of water at her. She looked baffled.

“You know my boss is here”

“Who Mr Wankling” She chuckled into her water.

“Mr Rankling you idiot” But he smiled at her in spite of it “How long until we can ask them to leave”.

Outside someone screamed, there was a moment of silence and then a roar of laughter. Perhaps Rayleen had fallen over a chair while trying to seduce Mathew. Perhaps she had fallen out a window. It had been too many months in the planning to adequately assess what state they would be in tonight. In hindsight, Vanessa was feeling low, and drinking too much. And he was feeling more than a little lost. Despite what he had told Mathew, he did feel old. Life had stopped offering him things, nothing was ever new, only more of the same. Why had he told Rayleen about Mathews non-existent and unwanted girlfriend? Perhaps he wanted him all to himself, a reminder of the violent, brilliant past. Instead he felt increasingly like a stranger in his own life: his home thick with other people’s memories, his bed slept in by another. A foreign family aroma, shoes and coats and the room of hidden junk.

“I thought you wanted this. You seemed excited”

“Did I?” She slurs, “I guess I wanted to want it my love. Anyway, I haven’t done anything”

“Not yet. Between you and your mad sister I’ll be surprised if I still have a job tomorrow”

She laughed. But looked reproachful, he must be nice to her when she was like this, she had told him that many times. If only it was so simple.

“Get me another drink”

“I hope you're joking, drink your water. No more booze tonight”

“Oh Theo. Why you being so wet!”

“Wet?” He laughed, “Don’t think the kids are using that one these days babe, you’re showing your age”

She threw the cup at his head. Spitting with sudden rage. Walking across the room and glaring at herself in their obscene gilded mirror. She looked crazed, stumbling around, challenging her angry reflection to a fight. Theo approached her slowly, but she had already turned, crouching and ready to dodge his outstretched arms. They skipped around each other furtively for a while, boxers in the ring. She was mocking him, some unhinged alter ego dared him to stop her. She was making for the door, surely planning some ridiculous scene.

“VAN!” Theo growled. Grabbing her around the waist. “Sort this shit out” She writhed wildly, whimpering. “You’ll sort this shit out. Or that’s It!”

She immediately stopped moving. For a second Theo was scared she was dead, that he had accidentally broken her neck. But she simply turned and looked him dead in the face, tapped his arm lightly and he released her.

“Listen, I know you don’t like him. But maybe we should go back to Dr –“  Before he could finish however, she darted for the door like a cat.

He raced out after her. Slowing to what he hoped was a relaxed walk as the party came into view. He looked frantically, until he saw her hair shuffling around by the couch, hopping in and out of view. He began nudging his way towards her, a chorus of polite apologies. Then she was standing on a chair, wobbling, but then regaining balance. A glass of wine in her hand. And a spoon? Where the hell had she got a spoon so quickly. The ringing was absurdly effective, everyone falling silent almost immediately. Theo’s plan to subtly rugby tackle her off the chair went out the window.

“Excuse – Excuse me! Everyone” She smiled at the crowd before spotting Theo and fixing him with a menacing grin. “Thank you, all for c-coming” Her words stumbled out.

“I would like to say, the me – and my lovely husband Theo” She said, venomous. “Have an announcement”

He was just reaching out his hand to pull her down. But it was too late.

“We’re having a baby!” She exclaimed, flourishing her glass.