by Maria Ling
"That's early, isn't it?" Matthew checked the kitchen clock.
"Only half an hour," Janine said. "I don't think we're likely to miss much. It's awfully dark out there, and no one on the streets. I checked."
"Fair enough." Matthew turned off the cooker rings. "We didn't do too badly, considering the weather. Take a bit more tonight, and you'll still break even for the day."
"That's not likely," Janine said. "I'd be surprised if anyone shows up this evening."
"Try optimism once in a while," Matthew said. "It works."
But as it turned out, Janine's pessimistic forecast was fully justified. Not a single soul showed up at the restaurant all evening. At nine she admitted defeat, and shut the place.
CHAPTER 6
The storm hit at one in the morning. Janine woke with a gasp, hearing the most terrifying crash from outside. At first she thought she must have dreamed it, but it was soon followed by other, equally destructive sounds.
She reached out for Matthew's naked shoulder, and shook him awake.
"What?"
"The weather," Janine said. "It's awful. I think we should phone your Mum and check she's all right."
"She's lived here all her life," Matthew said. "Besides, Stella is with her. She'll be fine."
"Even so."
"You can if you want to." Matthew yawned. "I'll go over to the restaurant. There shouldn't be too much prep work to do -- I don't think we'll have a flood of customers today either. A nice easy morning. Come over when you feel like it."
"Fine." Janine kissed him. The overnight stubble that covered his jaw pricked her lips.
"I'll get you some toast and orange juice," Matthew said. "You stay in bed for a while." He sauntered off, leaving Janine to snuggle up under the covers and feel all cosy and cosseted.
She tried to keep some of that feeling half an hour later, as she knocked on Mrs Sutcliffe's door.
The wind was strong, building to ferocious gusts every few minutes. Janine almost lost her balance once, and had grab the doorhandle for support.
Stella answered the door. She looked pale and worried.
"I was just coming over," she said. "Matthew's on the phone. He says he's been trying to reach you but you aren't picking up."
"I was probably in the shower. What's the problem?"
"He wouldn't say."
Janine took the receiver. Her heart was beating fast, hard. Had anything happened to Matthew? Fear coursed through her veins. But reason cut in as soon as she heard his voice. Of course he was fine. He must be, or he would have told his mother and sister first of all.
"You'd better come down to the restaurant right away. A chimney stack from one of the houses out the back has fallen and smashed right through the roof. There's a lot of damage. The house owners already phoned for a fire crew, but the emergency services are way overstretched -- there have been a lot of accidents overnight. They said they'd be here at first light, so hopefully we'll see a sign of them soon. Anyway, you'd better come down here and see for yourself."
Janine replaced the receiver, hands shaking. This was it. There was no way the restaurant could survive a blow like this. Money was tight enough already. If she had to pay out for repairs, and close the restaurant until everything was done, she'd go bankrupt.
It was all over.
"Are you OK?" Stella asked. "You're shaking."
Janine nodded. She wanted to sound calm and controlled, but when she tried to speak, no sound came. Any moment now, she'd probably burst into tears.
"Sit down," Stella said. "You've obviously had a shock. Is everything all right with Matthew?"
"Fine." Janine's voice sounded harsh and grating, even to herself. "He's fine. There's been some storm damage to the restaurant. I'm not sure how bad."
"Oh, I'm so sorry." Stella looked honestly concerned. "Can I help in any way?"
Janine shook her head.
"I don't think so. I'm going over there now." She pushed her way out through the door and staggered up the street. The wind buffeted her, rough as a drunken crowd leaving the pub at closing time.
At the other side of the bridge, a large puddle coated the street. The wind whipped up long ripples that sped across the oily surface. Janine grimaced, and headed further out along the strip. She didn't want to get soaked on top of everything else.
She still clung to a desperate hope that things weren't as bad as Matthew had thought. That she'd misunderstood him, or that her own despondency had led her to hear words he didn't say. But by the time she reached the restaurant, she realised that she was merely deluding herself. A crowd had gathered to stare balefully at a roof that looked as if it had been beaten in with a club.
Janine looked around for Matthew. She spotted him some distance away, talking to a policewoman who was nodding thoughtfully. Janine battled through the waiting crowd, forcing herself to smile and offer polite excuses. Some of these people might be customers. And if by some miracle she did manage to get the restaurant open again, she would need every friendly impulse she could gather around her.
She wished she hadn't turned down Stella's offer of help so abruptly. It was a kind gesture, and deserved better. Janine promised herself that she would find some way to make it up to Stella, just as soon as she could.
"There you are!" Matthew swept her up in a bear-hug. "I'm glad you're OK. You really got me worried when you didn't answer the phone. I thought something must have happened to you."
"I'm fine." Janine's heart felt warmed by his caring words. She squinted up towards the roof. Even from street level, the damage was obvious. A gaping hole yawned in the middle of the roof, its jagged edges raw. Broken tiles littered the pavement. The wet tarmac was smeared with a thin layer of pale mud, presumably dust from the implosion that had mingled with the rainwater and turned to soup.
"This is going to cost a lot of money," she said, her heart sinking again. "And we'll have to stay closed for weeks. I don't see -- " She broke off. She had been going to say 'I don't see how the business can survive', but decided against it. People died in these storms. They died in less obviously dangerous circumstances, too. She remembered Matthew's father and brother.
"It might not be so bad." Matthew's voice sounded oddly hollow. She glanced at him, and found that his expression looked strained. He didn't believe his own words, she decided. He knew -- he must know -- what a blow this would be for the restaurant.
What he didn't know was how close to breaking point its finances already were. Janine resolved not to tell him. Not until she had everything before her in black and white, and knew for certain that there really was no more hope left for its success.
"Here they come." He turned away from her at the sound of a grumbling crane that approached alongside the quay. "Let's hope it all gets fixed as quickly as possible, so you can start the repairs. And that the building industry doesn't get swamped." He gave her a lopsided grin. "There will be a lot of demand for their skills after last night, I'll bet you anything. A lot of insurance claims, too. You'd better get the paperwork in order today."
Janine gasped.
"It was all in there," she wailed. "In the back room office. Suppose it's all been damaged."
"You'll have to wait and see," Matthew said, not exactly awash with sympathy. He was watching the crane, eyes alight. Just like a schoolboy, Janine thought bitterly. Men never did seem to grow up. "Anyway, you've got the basic details, haven't you? The name of the insurance company, and so on? That should be enough for starters."
"I suppose so," Janine said uncertainly. She took heart from the possibility, though. Surely she couldn't be the only business owner who kept insurance details on the premises. But she mentally berated herself for being so careless. She ought to have considered the possibility of accidental damage to the office, and kept copies of the most important documents safely stashed elsewhere. She promised herself she would do better from now on.
It took less than an hour to clear the wreckage and lay a temporary tarpaulin ov
er the damaged roof. With the policewoman's approval, Janine stole in through the back door and retrieved the vital documents. They turned out to be entirely unharmed, and easy to follow.
"That's it, then," she told Matthew. "I'd better go back to the house and start making some phone calls. Would you chase down the construction companies? I assume we'll need to get at least two quotes for the claim." She kept her voice and demeanour calm and professional. The quicker she and Matthew could get out of this mess, the better the chances of them being able to make the restaurant pull through.
"Sure, no problem. I'll phone from my place -- I'll let you know when I've got something." He kissed her briefly on the cheek, and then was gone.
Janine tucked the papers safely under her coat, and set off back towards her Nan's house.
Stella was in the kitchen, cradling a cup of tea. She made a face as Janine entered.
"You left the door unlocked," Stella said. "So I snuck in for some peace and quiet. Sorry. Mum wants you to come over right away and tell her what Matthew wanted to talk to you about. I've told her it's none of her business, but you know what she's like. There. I've delivered the message, I'll drink my tea, and then I'll get out of your way."
Despite herself, Janine laughed.
"There's been some damage to the roof, but the inside looks mostly OK. I don't know if it's structurally sound yet -- I imagine we'll have to get that assessed. Matthew's phoning construction companies, and I'm tackling the insurance. Now you know as much as I do." Conscience won out. "And don't feel you have to rush your tea. Take as long as you like. I'm just going into the sitting room." She shut herself away, sat down with the papers, and grabbed the stub of a pencil.
The phone rang as soon as her hand touched it. She picked it up, certain it was Matthew on the line, and said:
"That was quick. I hadn't even got started yet."
"What?" The voice of a young woman responded in a startled tone. "Oh, hi, Janine. It's Mary from the clinic. Am I interrupting you -- were you waiting for an important call?"
The clinic? Janine's mind went blank. Then her confusion cleared. The clinic where she worked, of course!
"Hi, Mary. I'm a bit swamped at the moment -- we've had some storm damage to the restaurant, and I need to sort out the insurance claim. Can I call you back? Is it urgent?"
"Well, not desperately, but I thought you should know. David's down with flu, and I'm having to rearrange all his appointments. But there are some patients that really need to be seen. Is there any chance of you coming back early?"
Janine groaned inwardly.
"I will if I have to," she conceded. "Let me just sort out this mess here, and I'll phone you back in a couple of hours. Reschedule all the patients you can in the meantime."
She got on to the insurance company, where she spent a depressing twenty minutes being told that there couldn't possibly be any damage, that no one was available to assess it, that her policy number didn't match their records, and that nothing she said made any sense. Well, perhaps not the last part.
By the time she finally convinced them to send out an assessor, Janine's temper had reached simmering point. She managed to stay courteous right through to the end, and pointedly did not slam the receiver down once the conversation was over, but she did mutter a few words that she was almost surprised to discover she knew.
The phone rang again. Janine took a deep breath and answered it.
"Oh, it's you." Mrs Sutcliffe's ungracious tones cut through the line. "Is Stella there?"
"I'm not sure," Janine said. "She was a little while ago, but she may have let herself out. I've been busy."
"Well, what did Matthew want?"
"The restaurant has suffered some damage," Janine said shortly. "I'm dealing with it now. If you'll excuse me, I really do have a lot of work to do."
"There's no need to be all high and mighty," Mrs Sutcliffe snapped back. "It's thanks to you I'm laid up here with a broken ankle, and none of my children so much as bothering to ask me how I am."
Janine's temper snapped.
"Your ankle isn't broken," she said. "You gave it a slight twist when you fell. It should already be practically healed. If you are in any pain, paracetamol will help."
"I don't like taking pills."
"Then you're clearly not in any pain. Besides, there's no reason at all for you not to be walking around on it. If anything, it's likely to benefit from the exercise. Turning into a couch potato is the worst thing you can do. As for sniping at your own children, I think they're both utterly heroic for putting up with your behaviour. You're nothing but a spoilt, selfish, manipulative old woman, and you ought to be ashamed of yourself." Janine slammed the receiver down so hard that she thought it would crack. She sat for a moment glaring at it. Her entire body was shaking with rage.
"That was Mum, I assume," Stella said from the doorway. "Sorry you caught it this time. I'll go right over."
"Don't bother," Janine said. "I think she'll be better off on her own."
"Probably." Stella gave her a quirky smile. "But she's my Mum. Thanks for telling her off, though. She deserves it."
Shame washed over Janine, forcing back the anger. She had never lost her temper so completely with anyone before. The sharp words she'd spoken echoed in her mind, making her blush with embarrassment and self-blame. How could she have fallen into such behaviour herself? She really ought to be more professional -- more adult -- more perfect.
But before Janine had time to say anything, Stella disappeared. Janine was left to shake her head over her own outburst, and to promise herself -- though with a quiver of self-doubt in her heart -- that it would not happen again.
***
The clearance work took the entire day. Matthew managed to hunt down a building contractor willing to the work, and the insurance company accepted the provisional estimate of the cost. But Janine, when told the projected amount, felt as if she'd had a hole punched through her chest.
"That's far too much money," she quavered. "I can't pay that. And suppose the insurance company quarrel over it? I'll be bankrupt."
"They won't," Matthew said confidently. "Why would they? You heard the assessor's opinion. He said he thought it sounded fair."
"But we'll be closed all that time," Janine wailed.
"You should be covered under the policy," Matthew reasoned. "Loss of earnings consequent on damage. That's a standard clause."
"But what if they don't pay?"
"Stop being so negative." Matthew scowled at her. "What's the matter with you today? I know it's been a shock and everything, but to be honest I don't think everything could have gone any better. You should be pleased. Instead you're moping and moaning as if the whole place is falling apart all around you. What's the matter?"
"I don't know." Janine shook herself. "I'm just tired, probably. And I'm afraid I lost my temper with your mother, too. I suppose that's preying on my mind a bit. I really wish I hadn't said the things I did."
"What things?"
It all spilled out then. Matthew listened sympathetically, then gave her a chuckle and a hug.
"Stella was right," he said. "Mum deserved it. She makes everyone's life a misery. Don't feel bad about it. If anything, it might make her think twice before laying into you again. Plus it saves her another go-round with me. I've told her before that I don't like the way she talks to you."
"I don't want to come between you two," Janine protested. "Really, I don't. I know she's your Mum and things are different -- I just -- "
"You're not coming between us," Matthew said firmly. "Listen. We're an item, OK? She doesn't like that. It's nothing personal -- she's never liked me or Stella having partners. It takes us away from her, you see. So she'll scupper it if she gets half a chance. It's not malice exactly, it's just the way she is. But I'm not going to let her run my life -- or ruin it, either. So don't let her get to you. Right?"
He turned a laser stare on Janine, who nodded weakly.
"I'll try my best,"
she said.
Matthew put his arms around her. She snuggled close to his broad chest, and breathed in the warm reassuring scent of him.
"Thank you for being such a rock," she said. "I don't think I could have got through all this without you."
"You're welcome." Matthew kissed her hair. "I try to look after my own."
Janine leaned back to give him a long, searching look.
"Am I?" she asked simply. "Your own? I mean, do you think we have a future together?"
"Of course," Matthew said with a startled frown. "Why shouldn't we?"
"Oh, no reason. I just wasn't sure."
"Silly girl." He cuddled her again. "I don't jump into bed with every employer, you know."
Janine stifled a laugh, but it emerged instead as a bubbling snort.
"I should hope not," she said. "That wouldn't look too good on your CV."
"I don't know," Matthew pondered. "It might make me stand out from the other applicants. Er. So to speak."
Janine giggled.
"Don't," she said. "It's not a fit subject for conversation. Just show me."
***
Mrs Sutcliffe's birthday dinner was a silent affair. Janine, determined to keep her temper under control, said as little as she could and as sweetly as she could. Mrs Sutcliffe seemed oddly quiet, too: not angry, just hesitant. Janine felt guilty about that, as she assumed her own outburst was to blame, but she couldn't bring herself to comment on the change. A withdrawn Mrs Sutcliffe was a lot better than a malicious one.
Matthew and Stella indulged in some half-hearted teasing of the kind that probably worked between them fifteen years ago, but eventually that faded as well. The only accompaniment to dessert was the clinking of spoons on rosebud-patterned plates.
"Well." Mrs Sutcliffe broke the silence at last. "That was nice. Thank you all for being here."
She seemed almost shy, Janine thought in disbelief.
"Glad to be, Mum," Stella said.
"Glad you liked the food, too," Matthew chipped in.
Janine swallowed.
"I'm very happy you asked me to come," she managed.