Glancing at the menu, I noticed the tea options, my tastes weighing in on the salty variety.
"How have you been?" my mother queried.
A loaded question if there ever was one. I gave her my rehearsed smile, and answered as I was taught, "I'm fine, thank you, and how are you?"
She smiled, happy that not all her rules of etiquette had been discarded. Because to be anything but fine in Emily Rand’s world would be truly catastrophic.
Fine. Fine was the ultimate cop out. It was a band-aid of a word that hid more than it told. But I could hardly tell her that this world just didn't make me tick. While in London, I was supposed to be meeting up with Charl for a new assignment. I briefly wondered when that would be - he had a habit of showing up when least expected. It was then that I noticed the third placed seating at the table. I groaned internally, hoping that this wasn't another one of my mother's attempts at a set-up.
It was as if my lack of interest in all the politicians and businessmen in her world that she enthusiastically introduced me to regularly was somehow a mark against my character - against who I was at the very core of my being.
And right on cue, dragging me from my thoughts, Andrew Constable walked towards our table.
Andrew was the epitome of the English gentleman. And while we weren't English, his family was willing to 'overlook' our American credentials in favour of a union. It may or may not have had something to do with my family's bank balance. But at the end of the day, it didn't matter because I was not entertaining Andrew. Andrew was a few times removed from the royal family, but his blood was still - somewhat - blue. I could see my mother salivating from here as she mentally planned a wedding.
"Emily, so wonderful to see you." I watched my mother physically perk up at his greeting. I suppressed an eye roll, and smiled. Again, that practiced smile. I flashed my mother a warning look at being tricked into High Tea with Andrew - which she skilfully avoided, pretending not to notice entirely.
"So lovely to see you, Andrew." she beamed.
“Andrew,” I gave him a soft smile in greeting. He smiled down at me, delighted to be acknowledged, dismissing the fact that I hadn’t stood to greet him entirely. I usually avoided dining with him because it was grossly uncomfortable, and Andrew seemed to be on board with the union our parents had proposed.
As he settled into his chair, he eased into conversation about charity events, his family business, and of course, the weather. He was good at small-talk, his cadence smooth and polished. I suppose years of private school had to count for something. My mother, naturally added in tid bits here and there, encouraging the conversation, steering it expertly straight back towards me.
Mother - 1. Corinne - 0.
I tried to say as little as possible without being rude. As nice as Andrew was, I didn't want to lead him along.
"And you, Corinne, what brings you to London?" he asked me directly. No way to avoid that one. These were his stomping grounds and I usually avoided them like the plague.
I smiled, and responded politely, "I came for the gala, you know I've never attended and I decided it was time." I threw in a small shrug of my shoulders for safe measure.
I watched his eyes light up as I cringed and cursed Charl internally. Andrew's family was the key sponsor for this gala, and he had been inviting me for years. I could only hope that my attendance this year wouldn't create expectations - judging from my mother's beaming smile, I doubted that would be the case. This year, the beneficiary of the funds was a children’s home in Northern Africa.
Charl had asked me to meet in London, and truthfully, my schedule was much more flexible than his. The unspoken rule was when Charl called, you came. But I needed an excuse to actually be in London, and with such short notice, this was the best I could come up with. Being a Society darling meant that I could flit around the world, but it also meant that I was heavily watched, needing to justify my actions in continuation.
The conversation naturally slanted towards the gala - who was attending, what they were expected to wear. In truth, this whole ordeal was giving me a headache. It's not that the gala didn't raise funds for a good cause, it's just the vapidness of the attendees left me grasping for… more. Something substantial. Some sort of spark. Just… something.
I mentally counted down the minutes until tea drew to a close. Andrew lingered and dragged it on for as long as was socially acceptable, my mother regailling him with tales from her American youth. If I wasn’t certain of my parents marriage and my mother being a stickler for propriety, I may have come to the conclusion that my mother wanted Andrew for herself - that was how much attention she had been lavishing on him through conversation. Of course it wasn’t like that at all, it was his lineage - his very bloodline she was after. As I passed my teacup and saucer to the waiter, I felt the rough edges of the slip of a piece of paper press against the palm of my hand. It was a wordless exchange as he continued to simply clear away our cutlery.
Excitement danced in my veins, understanding that Charl had delivered his message and this godforsaken High Tea hadn't been in vain.
Once we were out the door in the crisp air, I said my goodbyes, and discreetly opened the piece of paper.
'Your tea looked riveting. If you are looking for some decent company, minus the bore, you know where to find me'.
Not Charl.
It was signed off with his number and address. I laughed. He was an opportunist if nothing else. I sighed, tucking the paper away for safekeeping. Shaking off my disappointment, I kept moving. I supposed the Tom Ford suit that I had pegged for a boring, privileged rich kid could now be firmly moved out of the boring category. He may have had balls, but he still wasn’t my type. Part of me wondered what it would be like to take that man up on his offer. He looked wilder than Andrew - less polished somehow. And yet, the part of me that was all Emily Rand shoved down that desire to be wild and free. I shook my head. I had my Magick. That was enough.
Sighing, I trudged my way towards a hotel. If nothing else, I needed to organize myself for tonight's gala.