‘It’s great to see you, darling.’ Paul winks before returning to the kitchen, leaving Del wiping his hands on a tea towel. He casts a sideways glace to the girl, who’s now handing a coffee to a waiting customer, then looks back at me with an embarrassed smile. I feel self-conscious all of a sudden – uncomfortable and out of place. ‘I didn’t know when you’d be back,’ he starts. ‘And we were run off our feet. Rose here inquired about vacancies and she fell right into it.’
My heart sinks into my Converse. I’ve been replaced, and by the look on Del’s guilty face and the sound of his sorry voice, he doesn’t plan on reinstating me. ‘Of course.’ I smile, feigning indifference to within an inch of my life. I can’t blame him. I was hardly reliable in the weeks running up to my disappearance. As I watch Rose load the filter contraption of the coffee machine, an unreasonable sense of possessiveness seeps into me. The fact that she is performing the task with ease and with one hand when she reaches to grab a cloth isn’t helping. I’ve been replaced, and worst of all, I’ve been replaced by someone more competent. I’m injured, and I’m exhausting every modicum of strength not to let it show.
‘It’s fine, Del. Honestly. I never expected you to keep my job open for me. I didn’t think I would be gone for so long.’ Looking down at the phone in my hand, I see Miller’s name flashing up at me but I ignore it, forcing my smile to remain fixed on my face. ‘Anyway, Nan’s being released from the hospital tomorrow, so I need to be at home to take care of her.’ It’s ironic. All that time I used Nan as an excuse to keep me away from the big wide world so I could look after her, and now she really does need my help. And I really want to be in the big wide world. I feel untold guilt for allowing a little resentment to simmer deep within me. I’m beginning to resent everyone and everything. The people who are giving me freedom are the people snatching it away from me.
‘Your grandmother’s ill?’ Sylvie asks, sympathy etched all over her face. ‘You never said.’
‘Oh, Livy, honey, I’m so sorry.’ Del moves towards me, but I back away, feeling my emotions taking hold.
‘It was just a scare, nothing major. They’re discharging her tomorrow or Friday.’
‘Oh, that’s good. You take care of her.’
I smile as Sylvie rubs my arm. All of this empathy is unbearable. I need to escape. ‘I’ll see you,’ I say, throwing a little wave to Del as I back out of the bistro.
‘Make sure you keep in touch,’ my ex-boss calls before returning to the kitchen and resuming business as usual – business as usual that doesn’t include me anymore.
‘Take care, Livy.’ Sylvie looks guilty. She shouldn’t. This isn’t her fault, and in an attempt to ease it for her, to make her see I’m cool, I paste a huge smile on my face as I curtsy.
She laughs, turns on her biker boots, and sashays back to the counter, leaving me to shut the door on my old job and the people I became so fond of. My feet are heavy as they carry me across the pavement, and when I finally look up, I see a waiting car and Ted holding the back door open. I slide in without a word, the door shuts, and Ted’s up front in no time, pulling into the afternoon London traffic. My low mood is obvious, as expected, yet I seem to have a taste for lowering it further.
‘You knew my mother.’ I utter the words quietly and get only a nod in response. ‘I think she’s back in London,’ I say casually, like it’s of no consequence if she is.
‘I have instructions to take you home, Miss Taylor.’ He ignores my observation, quickly telling me that Ted is going to remain tight-lipped – if, indeed, there’s anything to know at all. I hope there’s nothing to know, which begs the question why I’m digging at all. Nan will never cope.
I concede easily to Ted’s coolness. ‘Thank you for saving me,’ I sigh, showing my white flag in the form of some gratitude.
‘Anytime, Miss Taylor.’ He keeps his eyes on the road, avoiding my stare in the rearview mirror.
Gazing blankly out the window, I watch the big, wide world go by as an even bigger black cloud descends, blanketing my favourite city in a gloomy darkness that matches my current state of mind.
Chapter 10
July 17 1996
Peter Smith
Investment Banker
46 – boring by name, wild by nature. The older man again. Married, but clearly not getting what he craves. I think he might crave me now.
Date one: Dinner at the Savoy
For starters, the best lobster salad I’ve tasted, but I’ll reserve judgement until I’ve eaten at the Dorchester. For main, fillet steak and some well-aimed coy looks. For dessert, a tiramisu, rounded off with a diamond bracelet. Of course, I showed my gratitude in the penthouse suite before I slipped out. I think I might see this one again. He can do incredible things with his tongue.