Chaos At Christmas – Episode 29
Chaos At Christmas by Ewan Smith
« Previous Post- 1. Chaos At Christmas: Episode 01
- 1. Chaos At Christmas – Episode 29
Of course, nothing had actually happened. She had clung desperately onto DJ Klaws for her own safety as he had moved closer and closer, murmuring nonsense. But just as it seemed that he must be about to kiss her, someone had called “Cut!” in the background and DJ Klaws had immediately released her and made sure that she was steady on her feet. He had turned to the cameraman. “How did the scene look?”
“Pretty decent, I think,” the cameraman murmured. Back in the room, DJ Klaws had put on his glasses and a huddle of them had gathered round the camera. After looking through the clip a couple of times, DJ Klaws had nodded. “That looks fine and the sound quality is good. Tidy it into a thirty second video clip and put it out on social media straight away.” The group scattered and he turned to Ferelith with a smile. “You come across well on camera, Ferelith. Very natural.”
She gazed at him in confusion. “I don’t understand. What just happened?”
“That will go out as a teaser clip on social media to encourage people to tune into our regular cable-cast later today.”
“You and me dancing?” She didn’t understand. She had always been proud of her moves on the dancefloor but she hardly thought that they were up to TV show standard. Anyway, the moves had mostly been those of DJ Klaws.
The corner of his mouth twitched. “DJ Klaws has a reputation to uphold. When he sees a beautiful woman, he can’t help but make a move on her. It’s what his audience expects.” For a moment, Ferelith was distracted by the thought that she had just been described as a beautiful woman by an international celebrity.
Though it was odd how he spoke as if DJ Klaws was somehow separate to himself. “Thanks for that, Ferelith,” he said, shaking her hand with a smile. There was no sign of the passionate eyes which had burned into hers just seconds before. He was like an actor moving in and out of character. “I really appreciate your help.”
“My pleasure,” Ferelith replied in a daze.
“It’s set things up nicely for the next part of the drama.”
She pushed the now empty trolley back through the partying crowds in the passageway. She supposed that it would be a good story to tell her friends but she kept thinking of Geraint gazing at the two of them on the balcony. He had looked so miserable. She would have to seek him out and explain everything to him; just as soon as she had a spare moment.
Wearily, Ferelith put the parcel she had been checking into one of the big red sacks and ticked off another name on her list. The Christmas Eve party would be beginning in only a matter of hours. It was always the highlight of the festive celebrations at the Manor but she couldn’t get herself into the spirit of things at all. She felt so upset and confused.
Those moments with Geraint at the concert the night before seemed like a lifetime ago. She had felt in such a whirl of happiness. She had been sure that it was the start of something special between the two of them. But now all she could think about was the expression on his face as he had looked up at the balcony. She had to speak to him. But there was so much to do.
She looked at the mountain of parcels around her and her eyes narrowed. A surge of determination went through her. She would give it a blitz and get the job finished. Then she could find Geraint and explain what had really happened in DJ Klaws’s room. Everything between them would be fine again.
She grabbed the next parcel and reached out to the tape dispenser. But then she grimaced; it had run out. She got to her feet and went over to the doorway.
“Erik, do you have a spare roll of sticky tape?”
“I believe so, Miss Ferelith.” He peered under the counter.
But all thoughts of parcels and sticky tape were suddenly swept from Ferelith’s mind. Geraint had appeared in the doorway of the hotel carrying a tray of Christmas cacti. He caught sight of her and his feet slowed to a stop. The two of them gazed at each other. The anguished look on his face was so painful to her.
However, a slow change came over his expression. There was a sort of melting. A sense that something precious and dear was beginning to flow between them across the hall. Just for an instant, she thought that he was about to move towards her. It was what she wanted more than anything in the world.
But, suddenly, all of that was forgotten. Through the entrance of the Manor, an extraordinary-looking woman had just appeared. Striding past Geraint with two cameramen in her wake, she came to a stop in the middle of the reception area and struck a dramatic pose.
Where’s – that – TROLLOP?
she demanded in a voice which echoed off the walls. The hall fell into absolute silence.
Where’s that vixen who is trying to steal my man?
Ferelith knew who she was. Actress, film director, professional drama queen and renowned squeeze of DJ Klaws, Myrmalette C. Mee was one of the most recognisable women in the world. She stood there in her flowing designer dress which clung to her in remarkable ways and gazed about with eyes blazing in fury.
A sense of dread gripped Ferelith. Could this have something to do with her scene earlier on the balcony with DJ Klaws? Although she didn’t appear to have been spotted, it seemed to Ferelith that Myrmalette knew exactly where she was. With the cameras recording everything, the moment was being drawn out exquisitely slowly for dramatic purposes.
She felt helpless with fear, like a delicious rabbit about to be spotted by a ravenous fox. She could only stare at this astonishing woman whose every movement was a pose and whose hair was piled high on her head in an impossible fashion. How on earth did she manage that, Ferelith wondered vaguely. Did she have a hairdresser travelling everywhere with her?
All at once, Myrmalette’s eyes lit upon Ferelith. It was as if a bolt of electricity had struck the woman. She shuddered. Stepped back. Tottered on her enormous heels, grew faint with shock. Every man in the room seemed to take an instinctive step forward to help, even Erik. But somehow she gathered her strength and drew herself up to her full height. “There – she – is!” she cried, pointing at Ferelith with a finger encased by dazzling rings.
