The Dinner Party

It's an unconscious habit: purse of the lips together in the mirror and an appreciative wink.

It takes time and effort to look this good. Honestly, even when I'm not trying it takes work. There are those days lately, where I'm content in baggy sweats and hair without its bounce, when Mitzeee gets zipped away with the red lippie and false lashes and Anne curls up on the sofa beside Riley.

It's only when I'm thinking of last night's popcorn fest, with Riley's fingers stroking the small of my back, that I realise I've made the first mistake of the day. A stream of expletives roll from my tongue and in frustration, my make-up bag falls to the floor, the mascara tube losing itself under the bed. I forget about that and check my phone for the date and confirm my fears.

Riley's Birthday. Tomorrow.

Flapping around the flat, berating myself for being the worst girlfriend ever, I scrolled through the contacts on my phone wondering how I can possibly pull this one out the bag. Knowing how much of a fuck-up I made of last year's twenty-first, I owed it to him to make this one at least bearable. Paps were a no go and there wasn't a venue in town I could trust to blag a last minute event with, without them spilling to the press. It was then that my thumb hovered over B in my address book and a moustachioed light-bulb pinged above my head. Brendan.

Okay so, Chez Chez wasn't exactly a thriving location, it hardly screamed glamour and class, but Riley wasn't one for fuss or exclusivity. He was a man that liked his home comforts and familiarity and you couldn't get much closer to home than Chez Chez.

I clattered up the stairs hoping to catch Brendan in one of his better moods. Thankfully they'd been more frequent in the six months due to the inevitable. The club was quiet before opening but as music drifted from Brendan's office, I headed in that direction. An ajar door never fazed me so I carried on straight through.

They sprang apart a lot slower, a lot less guiltier than the last time I'd caught them. Granted, on this occasion I wasn't armed with the pregnant girlfriend and a closet crowbar. There were a lot more clothes involved this time round. I had a good look though, obviously. What red-blooded female wouldn't?

Brendan had Ste's lip between his teeth and was leant over the office chair. He'd let Ste sit in it, like some child who couldn't resist a little swivel back and forth, playing boss. Although he was still this time, one leg hooked over the side of the chair, arm up and around Brendan's neck and his shirt pushed up to the nipples by his boyfriend's impatient hands.

I fanned my hand in front of my face. "Phew! Has it just got hot in here or is that just me?" I teased. Brendan eased off the chair and span Ste away out of temptation's grasp. He tugged down his top and looked uneasily around the room, all pink eared and rabbit-in-headlights.

"Y'ever heard of knocking Anne?" Brendan asked, approaching me.

I screwed up my face. "And where's the fun in that? Nothing exciting happens behind an open door. And anyway no harm done, you hadn't even got to the good stuff yet,"

I revelled in the look on Ste's face. Horror.

Brendan, being more used to me, shuffled me out of the office and by the bar. He poured himself a drink and watched me make a disparaging look.

"What?"

"You start early don't you?" I nodded my head between the office shenanigans and the whiskey.

"Get to the point, Anne. Why're you here?"

I knew he wasn't really listening to me, considering his gaze followed Ste out the office and then to the sofas where he'd ended up, but I continued regardless, hoping he'd be tricked into saying yes with his brain all mashed by lurrrve.

"…tomorrow night, we can say nine,"

"Out of the question." He snapped back into the conversation.

"What?" I could hear the desperation in my voice and knew that was a fatal error when it came to negotiations with Brendan. "Oh please Brendan,"

"No can do. Student thing with some Battle of the Bands shit." Brendan waved his hands around like he hadn't the slightest clue what event they were hosting

"And you can't do me a teeny tiny favour?" I said, a whine away from clutching my hands together in a begging motion. "It's for Riley's birthday,"

"Oh well in that case…" he said and I leant forward in rapture. "The answer's still no."

"But I'm your FBF!"

"You what?" Ste said, looking up from his phone, nose crumpled in a way I was sure Brendan thought cute, whereas I thought distinctly rodent like.

"Fabulous Best Friend. You know, like you're my GBF." I clarified. "Gay Best Friend."

Brendan groaned. Wrong tactic.

"If you want a corner of the club, take it up with Joel, the student thing is his brain child. Brain might be pushing it, mind you,"

"Er I wouldn't if I were you, he had a right face on him this morning," Ste added unhelpfully. I rolled my eyes at him and turned my back on his pointless little interjections. Brendan clearly didn't want him for the brains, that's for sure.

"That's the last thing I want, sharing the night with some scuzzy students and sweaty musicians," I said, shuddering a little for theatrical emphasis. I started to feel Mitzeee's overconfidence crumble, and Anne's doubts creeping in. I couldn't let Riley down, not again. It was already bad enough I'd forgotten about the day in the first place and now failing to organise a party. I wasn't doing it to impress him, but I wanted him to know how special he was to me.

I rested on the palm of my hand, a definite sulky mouth.

"Can't you sort something on the night?" I asked in a last ditch attempt.

"I ain't working tomorrow night," Brendan said, looking over at Ste.

I sighed. "Oh please, as if you don't spend enough time with Twink Boy as it is! And you can't do me one favour?"

"It's a special night Mitzeee!" Ste said, on the defensive. He was good at the sulky mouth too. His accent got more pronounced when he flared up, vowels sounding like they could barely be bothered.

I idly wondered what was special about your average Wednesday. Whips and Chains Wednesday no doubt. They looked the sort. Not that I was opposed to that sort of thing, I was hardly vanilla myself, but I couldn't see those two having a special night of romance. Romance to Brendan was an endurance, something you gritted your teeth through.

"Oh yeah?" I pressed, curiosity getting the better of me, much to Ste's smug joy. Truthfully I liked seeing Brendan a little rattled too.

"It's been six months innit? I'm cooking."

And suddenly a new light bulb sprung to life.

I dashed over to him. "Ste Hay you little genius!" I exclaimed – genius was perhaps over-egging it. I planted a large smacker on his lips, leaving them tinged pink. He looked rather pleased with himself. What can I say, he might be gay but he isn't blind.

"Er what do you mean?" he asked as I sat down beside him.

"Well this is just perfect isn't it? You two love birds are having a special night together; Riley and I are going to have a special night. Why don't you make double of that delicious food and then that'll solve both our problems!"

Ste crossed his arms. The accent was back again, narky. "And what do I get out of it, eh?"

"I'll pay you, of course. And I'll make sure to mention the deli on my next PA. You know the thing – 'If you think these are good baps you should go to Carter & Hay!'" I was pretty impressed with myself that I invented a whole business proposition in under thirty seconds. "There is one thing though, I sort of want him to think I did the cooking,"

He scoffed. "Nah I don't think so Mitzeee, it was supposed to be just me and 'im. Dead romantic and that,"

I could feel myself internally cringe at Ste's lack of eloquence.

"Steven, just humour the poor girl or we'll never hear the end of it," Brendan said, hand on forehead, from the bar.

I stood to totter over and kiss him but he raised his hands as if to say enough and I took the hint.

"He better be worth all this effort," Brendan said. And we shared a look, knowing that for both of us, whatever efforts we went to for Riley and for Ste, were worth it.

X

Showered, lacy knickers on (the ones Riley had bought and worshiped me in) and an LBD, I was ready.

The day had gone surprisingly smoothly considering the headache of the day before. Pre-supermarket shop, Ste had sent me a barely readable text in the morning, meaning I had to smuggle my phone into the bathroom and clarify with him just exactly what he was planning on cooking.

On returning to the bedroom, Riley was awake and he opened cards and presents in bed, kissing me tenderly for the engraved watch I had for him. We made love and joked sleepily about spending the whole day in bed, until Bobby's cries of Dadda from the next room parted us and the rest of the day was spent leisurely as a family. I could hardly think of a happier time.

I managed to get rid of him late afternoon, although his flirting meant I wanted to forget the dinner and just let him carry me to the bedroom, but I wanted to treat him and so I sent him off to Doug's for a while.

Much earlier than expected there was a knock at the door. I was still battling with my zip as I opened it. Ste pushed past me, red-faced and flustered and armed with bags and bowls. I was about to ask what he was playing at when Brendan came through the door as well, with Tupperware containers filled with dubious things.

"What's all this? You're not supposed to be here now!"

Ste jabbed his finger at me. "Don't start Mitzeee, I'm not in the mood!"

I looked at Brendan for an answer, squeezing together the unzipped side of my dress. Without me even giving much indication, he zipped me up.

"Oven's packed in," Brendan said, taking a spot on the sofa, putting his feet up and picking up a copy of my old Spotted magazine. Trust him to sit down and read in a crisis.

"And there are no other ovens in the village?"

Ste span around, brandishing a table spoon like a weapon. "I'm doing you a favour 'ere! Now do summit useful and help me chop,"

I avoided the onions – mascara streaks aren't a look I go for – and diced tomatoes at a speed that aggravated Ste and we were bubbling towards a row as the front door opened and Riley appeared, looking bewildered.

I felt my best laid plans tumble around me, my face falling. I sheepishly approached him. "It was meant to be a surprise," I said as he glanced round the flat and greeted our surprising house guests warily.

"Hiya," Ste said with a momentary cheer before he was back in serious chef mode. I awaited Brendan to make some sarcastic comment, but he managed a grunt of a hello.

"Interesting choice of guest, Mitz," Riley said under his breath and I grimaced – them staying for a cosy foursome dinner wasn't the plan.

I clasped my hands together and let him kiss me. The hostess role began. "I'll crack open a bottle then shall I? Red or white?"

X

I was helping Ste plate the food, eyes continuing to flick over to where Brendan and Riley sat making awkward conversation. It amused me that thirty odd years of Brendan being the big man on campus, being macho and "straight" hadn't equipped him with the staple conversation basics for idle chat with other men. Riley's repartee was fairly limited to football, fitness, Bobby and (obviously) me, but as football talk prevailed I could even see from the kitchen, that Brendan was glazing over.

Suddenly Ste slapped at my hand.

"You're doing it wrong!" he snapped, moving the plate out of my reach. "The capers go on last!"

I rolled my eyes at him, picking up my glass of wine. "Sorry!" I mocked.

"Yeah well stick to twirling your hair, alright?" he said, my hands stopping dead as I reshaped the curls by my shoulder. "In fact, you can go and lay the table. You do know how to lay a table, right?"

I huffed like a child shooed away and walked past the men, clutching the cutlery in both hands.

"Having fun boys?" I asked, teasing, knowing they were both loathing every second.

"Do you need some help Mitz?" Riley said, itching to free himself from the difficult small talk.

I smiled at him, eyes sparkling with glee, "It's fine babe, you're the birthday boy. You sit tight," I caught Ste's eye then and he was smirking too, knowing how painful they were finding it.

He spoilt the fun by calling Brendan over for a "word" and as soon as he was out of ear shot, Riley tugged me by the wrist.

"What do you even talk to him about?" Riley said in despair.

"Fashion, interior design…you know that sort of thing," I teased. Glancing over to Brendan, I noticed him picking at the unplated food, narrowly avoiding being scolded by the stroppy chef. He always had that glass fronted coldness, did Brendan, but as much as I found the chavvy git irritating, he seemed to melt that mask of Brendan's a little. Brendan had popped a whole cherry tomato in his mouth, Ste frantically looked for it and when turning to Brendan, he had raised his hands in innocence and then bared his teeth, tomato too. Stress levels high, Ste had punched him lightly on the shoulder but calmed instantly when Brendan's rare moments of affection showcased, his hand caressing Ste's cheek.

"Right, so I should talk to him about clothes?" Riley asked and I resisted to urge to snort and tell him I was joking.

Ste called from the kitchen and Brendan's hands quickly slipped from their position on Ste's skinny hips. "Grub's up." Such class.

We seated and Riley poured.

"Well this is nice, isn't it?" I said, scanning the faces of my reluctant dinner guests. "Quite the foursome."

X

I had to admit it, although it pained me to say, that Ste was quite the cook. I'd had better, obviously, but for a man that looks like he could just about warm up spaghetti hoops, I was impressed. Brendan was practically silent throughout the main course; only politeness stopped him from licking the plate. Ste and Riley talked of the joys of parenting, with Ste's migraine-inducing laughter causing ripples in the wine and Riley's beaming smile as he spoke of Bobby, warming my heart.

"It's jam tart for pud, hope that's alright!" Ste said in a sing-song way that made me wonder if he should have drunk so much when he was around knives and stoves. "Brendan's got a thing about jam,"

Ste grinned a little wider than was decent and Brendan was tight lipped in a grimace that only confirmed to me that jam had some significant play in their sex life. Sticky.

"Oh Brendan, I meant to ask you," Riley began and I tried to hide the shock in my face. Brendan looked bewildered. Ste continued handing round the bowls of dessert and I couldn't help but find it a little adorable that he'd made a little pastry heart on Brendan's. "Mitzeee and I were thinking of redecorating this place…what do you reckon?"

Brendan's eyes widened, a flat tone to his voice, "What do I think?"

I daren't look at Ste. Eyes on the dessert. Eyes on the dessert. I could feel the laughter shaking in my chest.

"I mean, you're obviously a man of style…er…" Riley said, stumbling around for words.

Ste snorted. "Are you tryin'a flirt with my boyfriend?"

"Flirt! No!" Riley replied, almost leaping into the air with shock. "Mitzeee just said that you were interested in interior design…"

"Mitzeee did, did she?" Brendan said, fixing me with a stare before erupting into that cold, hard laugh he does. "Never trust a woman Riley, that's my motto,"

Riley smiled awkwardly. "Explains the gay thing,"

"I think that's more to do with loving cock!" I said. The wine. Definitely the wine. Bollocks. As eyes shot to me, I realised I definitely shouldn't have said that.

"Mitzeee!" Ste cried.

"She's right. That helps," Brendan said much to everyone's surprise. It's a miracle what happens to Brendan with a bit of lovingly-made jam tart in his mouth and a gut full of wine.

X

"Thanks mate, you really out did yourself there," Riley said to Ste, shaking his hand as we said our goodbyes to the guests by the doorway. "And thanks for the birthday cake, that was really nice of you." A football shaped cake – sometimes men really were that easily pleased.

Brendan kissed me on the cheek, stopping by my ear to speak. "Never again, Anne. Not on my life,"

I gave his chin a squeeze.

"We really must make this a regular thing!" I said, pointing my finger between all of us.

Brendan laughed shallowly, mouth snapping quickly back into sobriety. "Well, see ya." He gave Riley a look up and down, not really sure how to part, leaving Riley to wave a little.

Ste leant forward to kiss my cheek and I realised for the first time that I actually liked him. "Thank you Ste, you are a life saver."

As they left, Riley clutched me by the middle and planted a kiss on my neck.

"You know what," he said, "I actually had a really nice evening. Surreal. Who'd have thought we'd ever sit down and have a dinner party with Brendan,"

"Brendan and his boyfriend," I added. That was strange. The man that was once so locked away that he used me to beard for him – it seemed like a lifetime ago.

Riley took a plate of birthday cake for the sofa for a bit whilst I cleared away the last of the plates from the evening. Out the window onto the village I could suddenly see Brendan and Ste standing by the steps to Brendan's flat. Ste had been tugging at his arm, until he'd stopped and they'd faced each other, standing breaths apart. It was dark and I could barely make them out, but I saw Brendan reach out to stroke the shaven hair behind Ste's sticky-out ears, Ste's hand pressed flat against Brendan's chest. Surprise caught me, one of the bowls slipped into the soapy water in the sink as I watched them kiss. Six months on and it was still unheard of to actually witness them kiss in public, even if no one was around. Brendan had condemned PDAs that weren't for a purpose, but then I guessed that maybe this did have a purpose. They were in love. Six months of this inevitable relationship that had battled for years to exist had finally come true. Finally and thankfully for all of us who could now see that this was exactly what Brendan had been missing all along.

A hand slid around my middle and Riley was kissing the nape of my neck, calling me beautiful and I left Ste and Brendan to their love, to take mine to bed.