Inheritance

Chapter Thirty-four. Matchmaking

Chapter Thirty-four 

Matchmaking 

Tognarelli's, the local coffee house, was brimming with shoppers seeking refuge from the brisk chill of mid- November. Rachel spotted Cynthia beckoning her over to a small round table at the far end of the serving counter, right next to the gleaming brass coffee machine. 

"You're late, Rach." 

"Sorry, Cyn, I had to wait for the postman. The party's only a week away and I still haven't received all the replies." 

"How did you get yourself so involved in that?" 

"I didn't have much choice did I? John's stepmother asked me to help. She didn't have a clue who to ask, and claimed that his Dad was worse than useless. Actually it's turned out to be a bit of fun." 

"Are you going to sit down?" Rachel draped her navy blue duffle coat over the back of her chair and slid into her seat.  "Have you been feeding the chickens?" 

Rachel laughed. "Old habits die hard." Obviously, Cynthia didn't approve of her blue serge blouse and matching jeans tucked into her wellies. "I just didn't have time to get all dolled up this morning, and anyway I'm not planning to stay in town. There's still so much to do."  

"One and six please," said the young Argentinian waitress as she placed two large white mugs of steaming coffee on the glass topped table. 

"My treat this week," said Cynthia searching for change in her voluminous purse. 

"Thank you senorita. Thank you so much." From the girl's effusive response, Rachel guessed that Cynthia had tipped well. 

"So tell me, Rach. Have you decided to invite Dr. Ramsey to the party?" 

"You mean Basil?' 

"That's his name?" said Cynthia with a titter. "A hunk like that shouldn't be called Basil." 

Rachel smiled. "I didn't think I should. John doesn't know him, and I have tried to invite only his old school mates and immediate family." 

"And dates, I presume." 

"I've tried. But some of them are impossible. Who would want to spend the evening with Ray Harrison?" 

"I could name a few. But what about John? Is he bringing over that girl he invited to his father's wedding?" 

"Gillian. I don't think so. I sent him three invitations and have received three replies, all from guys." 

"So the party boy is to be unattached." Cynthia paused. Her eyes widened then she shook her head "I really can't believe you haven't got over that silly schoolgirl crush. What do you see in him? From what I hear, you could have your pick of any of those young studs in the R and D department at Glaxo. Why John?" 

"Don't be such a hypocrite,Cynthia. I know for a fact that he's on your wish list too."

Cynthia blushed.

*****  

It was early Friday evening. Preparations at the Memorial Hall were almost complete. The caterers had finished setting up tables in the back room, and Big Roy was doing a last run through the dance program. Rachel and three of her friends were putting finishing touches to the decorations. The girls were all atwitter. Their blind dates, all University students, awaited them in the whisky bar at the newly furbished Armadale.

***** 

Rachel confidently led the way through the revolving door into the foyer of the hotel. Three young men sat perched on stools at the bar to their right. Unseen, Rachel and her friends looked them over. They looked so different to the local riffraff. One, who had to be as tall as John, but far more muscular, sported an astonishingly short blonde crew cut. Another had a mane of jet-black hair, an olive complexion and unlike the other two was sipping wine. The third was an archetypical mad scientist - pallid skin, wild ginger hair, and horn rimmed spectacles. Rachel joined in the conspiratorial winks and giggles then led them into the bar. 

The boys rose from their stools as they approached. Rachel took the initiative. 

"Hi!" she said. "I'm Rachel Atkinson and you I hope are John Gregson's friends from Sheffield." 

"That's us," replied the tall athletic blonde. 

"Let me guess. You must be Eric." 

"Right on, and this is Norman," he said pointing to the short swarthy figure on his right. "You have to excuse him he's a Londoner and you may have trouble understanding him." 

Norman gave Eric a playful punch on the arm, squeaked a shy "Hello," and then circulated among the girls shaking each one by the hand. 

"So you must be Dave," said Rachel as she turned to face the boffin. 

"That's me." He had an infectious grin and a deep booming voice. "Could I offer any of you ladies a drink?" 

"Yes please," chirped the freckled redhead. 

"I'm not in the habit of drinking with strangers," said Dave. 

Rachel saw a fierce blush creep up her workmate's neck as she mumbled, "Oh sorry. I'm Carol." 

"And the others?" asked Dave. 

"Boy we're not very good at this are we? This is my friend Janet," Rachel said, placing her hand on the shoulder of the tall slim brunette by her side.  

"And I'm Valerie," interrupted the last of the trio. "A gin and tonic would go fine." 

Rachel refrained from drinking. She still had some last minute details to deal with. Once she saw that the dating ritual was well under way and had ascertained that Norman owned a vehicle large enough to transport them all to the dance at the Coro' she made her exit. John was to join them later.

All seemed to be going according to plan.