Cupcake Kissin’ 82 – Alex Ankarr
But Sandy comes chasing after him, grimacing. ‘Get on out there! Get out! You’ll find out quick enough when you – just get out there!’
The ways of Sandy are very mysterious, as Caspar has learned full well in the months that are past. It’s not as if he even bothers to argue. He just, as she justly says, gets his ass out there, keeping his anxious eyes open and flicking a stray crumb off the tux he has slung over his pink overall. (Mr Mayhewlinson’s interpretation of his aunt’s strictures, in this case, were inflexible so far as the actual wearing of the overall was concerned, and the shade. But he did relax just far enough to allow for the addition of the tux – just. It improves his ludicrous appearance, a little bit. Of course, there’s nothing to be done regarding the hair-net.
Now Caspar looks about him, in the midst of the apartment, the hubbub, the party. Everywhere people eating, drinking, talking, flirting. And still, nowhere, any sign of Mack, but he sighs at that, because, well, that’s just typical of Mack. And also, nowhere that he can see, any sign of trouble, of a lack, of an issue or a problem that justifies or explains Sandy coming in search of him as if there was an imminent earthquake or a shortage of cheese-cream puffs destroying the smooth running of the whole shebang.
Nothing, there is, anywhere, beyond the producer from the show catching him by the hand with a grin. ‘Great production, Caspar!’ he cries, and he’s gone. Cara, similarly, grabs a hold of him from behind a minute later, makes him dance a step or two and staggers a little into him.
‘Is there any problem?’ he asks her, but she laughs and shakes her head.
‘Great! Everything’s great!’ she assures him. And it is, so maybe Sandy was just sneakily skiving.
‘Where’s Mack?’ he tries, because it’s worth a shot, and, well… He wants Mack here. He wants to force-feed him some of those special cupcakes, if need be. He wants, he wants, he doesn’t exactly know what.
He wants a shot. He wants to try.
And then he hears it, the first bars of Happy Birthday that someone very inexpert, against all instruction and planning, is banging out on the grand piano that occupies a very significant place in the corner of the great huge fancy apartment. Which has to be a good sign, doesn’t it – although it does, then, mean that his guys have failed to keep a proper eye out and keep him abreast of events. He can only hope that at least they are taking note now, are rolling out the special birthday cake in Mack’s honour. (The official one, the fancy specially-iced one with cool beige icing and a sweet little china heart wrapped in a bow, and figurines of the whole show cast playing out a scene from the first episode of the first season, on its white slopes.)
© Copyright Alex Ankarr 2014
No unauthorised reproductions allowed. All rights reserved to the author. No inspirations for characters drawn from real-life individuals, no resemblance to real individuals intended.
Photo credit: duncan johnston under Creative Commons licence modified for book cover use.
