‘Well, I’ve been talking to my sister up in London. She says she’ll put me up, if I’m going to have some time apart from him. Then it’ll be up to him, whether he wants me back … or not. It would be a wrench,’ he added as the understatement of the year, ‘if I had to leave Pennycombe Bay, and the café – everything we’ve worked for – as well as leaving Dan. But I can’t go on forever like this, wondering if I’m being made a fool of.’
I looked at little Missy, who was fast asleep on a chair in the corner, her trademark pink bow slightly askew.
‘And what’s going to happen to her if you really do leave him?’ I said. He was making me feel like crying.
‘She’ll come with me, obviously,’ he said at once. ‘There’s no way I’m leaving her behind.’
‘What if he fights you for her? You both adore her, Kevin.’
‘Yes, well,’ he said, blinking fast and wiping a hand across his eyes. ‘He should’ve thought about that, shouldn’t he?’
‘Please keep trying to talk to him. He’s a good man. I’m sure he’s not messing you around.’
‘Talk to him? He’d rather talk about pickled onions.’ Kevin looked behind him. ‘Oh, speak of the devil.’
After hearing all this, I hardly knew how to talk to Dan. I gave him a weak smile and a hello, and was just about to order my sandwich and go off to a table, when he asked Kevin, quite casually, as if there was nothing whatsoever wrong between them:
‘Have you told Jess about that bloke?’
‘What bloke?’ Kevin said, and then, apparently having suddenly remembered, ‘Oh – yes, the guy we’ve seen you with down here a few times, Jess. Tall, blond guy—’
‘Nice-looking,’ Dan put in, ignoring the look Kevin gave him.
‘Nick?’ I said, my heart giving a sudden thump. ‘What about him?’
‘Is he your boyfriend?’ Kevin asked.
‘No! Oh, God, don’t tell me that’s what people are saying? He’s just … he was seeing my cousin, and I got to know him because of the dogs, and—’
‘All right, dear,’ Kevin said, raising his eyebrows at me. ‘Nothing to do with me. It’s just that we wondered what was wrong with him.’
‘What do you mean, wrong with him? Nothing, as far as I know. I haven’t seen him for a while, not since the carnival, but he seemed all right then. Why?’
Kevin coughed, and glanced at Dan. ‘Well, I don’t want to interfere, but I couldn’t help noticing, when he was here the other day, he seemed … terribly upset. I didn’t like to ask him what the matter was. I mean, I don’t even know the man. But I said to Dan, if he is Jess’s boyfriend, I wonder if everything is all right with her. I was concerned.’ He looked down. ‘But I’m sorry, I forgot about it afterwards. I had other things on my mind,’ he added, shooting a look at Dan, who seemed oblivious.
‘Oh, right.’ I frowned. Nick, upset, in public? Upset enough for Kevin to notice? I found it hard to believe. ‘Are you sure it wasn’t just … I don’t know, perhaps he was having a bad day?’
‘There were tears in his eyes,’ Kevin said in a stage whisper.
‘Maybe … hay fever?’ I suggested. I pretended to shrug, but my mind, by now, was racing. What if he really had been upset? Could it have been about Ruth? Had he realised he loved her, after all, and regretted dumping her? She’d be so happy! Perhaps she’d stop drinking, and they’d get back together, and she’d be nice to me again, and … and … I’d never give another thought, for the rest of my life, to the fact that he’d flirted with me, or that I’d been so tempted to respond that I’d had to walk away from him.
‘I don’t know,’ Kevin said. ‘But anyway, if he’s not your boyfriend, it doesn’t matter, does it. He looked as though he liked you, though,’ he added with a little sad grin. ‘When you were here together.’
‘No, he doesn’t like me. Not at all! He looks like that with everyone,’ I stammered, feeling myself flush bright red. Dan’s eyebrows shot up and Kevin gave me a questioning look, and I pretended to look at my watch, to cover my embarrassment. ‘Sorry, guys, could I have a ham roll and a white coffee, please? I’m on my lunch break and I need to get back to work soon.’
‘Coming up, sweetie.’
Kevin turned his back on Dan and started to make my coffee. I found a table and sat there staring at the sea while I waited. What on earth was that all about?
‘Are you all right?’ Kevin asked a few minutes later when he brought my coffee. ‘I hope I didn’t upset you earlier, teasing you about that guy.’
‘No, I’m fine,’ I told him, with a smile. ‘It’s you I’m worried about.’ I glanced over at the counter, but Dan had gone back into the kitchen. I took a deep breath. I might not be very good at this stuff, but I was fond of Kevin and I felt I should try to be more supportive. ‘Would it help to talk some more?’
‘You’re sweet,’ he said with a sigh. ‘But you’re busy, and I need to get on with lunches—’
‘I’m not busy this evening,’ I said quickly before I could change my mind. ‘After you’ve closed.’
He looked at me in surprise. ‘Are you sure? Maybe a little drink might be nice, then. I must admit it would be good to get away from Dan for an hour or so. Give us both a bit of space.’
We arranged to meet at the pub at eight o’clock, and I was pleased to see the tension had eased a little on his face when I said goodbye. I was getting ready to go out to meet him that evening, when Ruth came in and headed straight for the stairs as usual to deposit her carrier bag. I had a sudden mad urge to stop her, sit her down, and tell her what I’d heard. Tell her that Nick had been seen around Pennycombe Bay on the verge of tears, that I suspected he was regretting breaking up with her and maybe if she would only get some help with her drinking, they could be back together, and she’d be happy again. I wasn’t sure what stopped me. I just hoped it was the realisation that, after all, Kevin and Dan might have misinterpreted what they’d seen, that Nick might just have had something in his eye or a nasty case of conjunctivitis. I didn’t like to think it might have been that I didn’t want Nick and my cousin to be back together.
I’d done my best, hadn’t I? I’d tried to stay away from him, and when I hadn’t been able to avoid him, and he’d suggested we should be more than friends, I’d snubbed him to the point of rudeness. Most girls would, surely, have jumped at the chance to go out with him. He was gorgeous. Was it my fault Ruth had messed things up? He’d given her a chance. She could have admitted she needed help, and he would have supported her. So why did I feel so guilty as I watched her, later that evening, listlessly pushing her dinner around her plate, sighing miserably and then sloping off back upstairs to her room? Common sense persuaded me, eventually, that to mention Nick at all would only make her angry. I kept quiet about it, and simply called out to her that I was going out for a quick drink with Kevin. If she was surprised, she didn’t say so.
I’d already decided that, with my limited experience of relationships, happy or unhappy, the best thing I could do for Kevin was to listen quietly while he talked. But to my surprise, once we were settled at a table in the bar of the Smugglers’ Arms with a small glass of wine each, he sat back in his chair and announced:
‘Well, this is lovely – thank you, Jess. It’s nice to be out, away from the café and away from Dan and our problems. I’m going to forget it all for a couple of hours.’
‘You don’t want to talk it all over a bit more?’
‘No. Thanks, but I want to talk about everything but Dan. Tell me what you’ve been doing lately. How are things at the shop?’
I relaxed. This was easier. We chatted comfortably enough about Paws4Thought, and then about Prudence and my visits to the hospital with her. Kevin laughed when I described the conversations I had with her, and the fact that I made up her responses.
‘I don’t tell many people about that,’ I admitted.
‘Then I feel honoured,’ he said. ‘And I think it’s very sensible to have conversations with our doggy
friends. In fact, I’m going to tell Missy all about your chats with Pru, as soon as I get home!’
True to his word, Kevin kept off the subject of Dan all evening, and it was good to see him in a more cheerful mood. I began to think that if he did decide to take some time off from their relationship, it might actually be a good thing, for both of them, in the long term.
We were getting along so well, in fact, that over our second glass of wine I suddenly felt a very uncharacteristic urge to confide in him about my own worries.
‘That guy you were telling me about today—’ I began, looking down at my glass as I felt the heat rising in my face as usual.
‘He does mean something to you, doesn’t he,’ Kevin said at once. ‘We guessed, sweetie.’
‘Did I make it that obvious? Oh dear. He says he wants to go out with me, Kevin—’
‘Ooh! Lucky you!’
‘But I can’t! He broke up with my cousin – and she’s heartbroken. And I think perhaps he wants to get back with her – maybe that was why you thought he looked upset. Even if he doesn’t, it wouldn’t be right. She thinks I flirted with him, and I didn’t, I wouldn’t! And anyway … he’s probably just teasing me,’ I ended up, quietly, feeling embarrassed for blurting this all out.
‘Why on earth would you think that?’
‘Because – you know. He’s gorgeous. And I’m … just me.’
‘Oh, for heaven’s sake!’ Kevin reached across the table and grabbed my hand. ‘What on earth are you talking about, you silly thing? You’re lovely. I’d want to go out with you, if I was him!’ He paused, smiling at me sadly. ‘But you’re right, he’s not being very appropriate, is he. He should wait till your cousin’s moved on. Then you can bloody well go for it, girl, and good luck to you!’
I laughed, despite my embarrassment. Although I doubted I’d ever have the nerve to go for it, it was nice of him to be so sweet, so encouraging. It had been a relief to tell someone about Nick – someone so understanding. It felt like a weight had been lifted from me.
‘I’ve enjoyed tonight,’ he said quietly when we finally got up to leave. ‘Thanks for suggesting it, Jess.’ He gave me a hug. ‘I’ve … kind of cut myself off a bit from friends, over the years. Because of Dan and I living and working together, you know? It’s got a little bit … claustrophobic, I suppose. It’s been really nice to sit and chat over a drink with a friend again.’
‘I’ve enjoyed it too,’ I told him. ‘And …’ I smiled, a strange feeling of warmth coming over me, ‘I think I’m very lucky to be your friend, Kevin.’
I smiled to myself as I walked home, listening to the sound of waves crashing against the sea wall in the darkness. It was good to have real friends again: not just Kevin, but Edie too. I just hoped that now we seemed to have become closer, Kevin wouldn’t in fact decide to leave Pennycombe Bay. And anyway, I reminded myself, I liked Dan too, even though I’d felt annoyed with him recently. So I must be careful not to take sides or come between them. However it all turned out, I decided I would make a conscious effort in future to build up my friendships with them both. I could get past my social difficulties when I gave myself the little push I needed – and the rewards definitely made it worth trying a bit harder.
CHAPTER 16
By the next morning, though, I’d started puzzling and worrying again about Kevin and Dan noticing Nick looking upset. I thought about it a lot while I was at work, to the point where Jim asked me whether anything was wrong.
As I strolled down to the seafront at lunchtime to eat my home-made cheese and tomato sandwich in the sunshine, I glanced in the window of one of the little cafés, and it struck me that at almost every table there were two or three women, chatting together over a coffee or a meal. They looked so happy and energised, those girls, those ladies who lunch, enjoying their conversations with their best friends or their sisters or mums that I had to stand still in the middle of the street and take deep breaths. That could have been me, having lunch with my mum, if life hadn’t been so unfair. It could have been me with my cousin, if our relationship was still as good as it used to be, or with Liz, when we’d been friends. Well, since Edie and I had become closer, and since the previous evening with Kevin, I’d realised that I was perfectly capable of developing new friendships. I just needed to make the effort, difficult though it might be, instead of feeling sorry for myself.
The episode with Liz was over two years ago now, and I knew I needed to let it go. It was a waste of time continuing to brood over it after all this time. It was hard, though, because the worst thing about her dropping me was that it happened when I needed her most – and she must have known that. All the catering staff at the hotel knew about the incident I’d been reprimanded for. Marco the head chef hadn’t exactly bothered about keeping his voice down that day, when he bellowed me out in a busy kitchen, in front of them all, about the customer with the nut allergy.
‘The order, it was clearly marked,’ he yelled. ‘No almonds on this lady’s trout, right? She could have had the analytic shock, for God’s sake!’
‘Anaphylactic,’ I said, without stopping to think. It wasn’t exactly helpful. He was proud of his reasonably good English and didn’t take too well to being corrected. His face went from pink to purple in an instant.
‘Analytic, anaphylic, whatever is the hell you want to call it. She bloody might have died if she’d eaten it, and it would have been in your fault, you stupid, incompetent—’
‘I don’t remember seeing an order for a trout without almonds,’ I protested, my voice beginning to shake. Marco was famous for his temper, but I’d never before been the one to fall victim to one of his rages. Everyone else had gone quiet, their heads down, getting on with their work.
He marched over to me, waving a piece of paper – one of our order forms, torn from a waiter’s pad – which he thrust under my nose.
‘Amir, he say you were doing of the trout,’ he said. His Italian accent was becoming more marked as his voice became louder. ‘You want me to show you the customer’s plate, yes? It’s there, over there – untouched, you see? She saw the almonds, she sent it back, thanks be to God. And they have walked out, the whole party – disgusted, not to be surprised. The Trip Advisor, they will give it a terrible review. Perhaps she will even be suing us.’
‘I … but I’m sure I’ve only done one trout this evening. And there wasn’t any mention of—’
‘You are standing there arguing with me, girl? What’s the matter, you can’t read? No almonds, it says here!’ He jabbed a finger at the order. ‘It is written in the English, no? You speak a different language now?’
Someone sniggered, over on the cold prep counter. I was coming out in a sweat. It had been a busy evening, a full restaurant, with the waiters chivying us impatiently for the orders. I’d been rushing, yes, but – I shook my head, trying to be clear about it – I was sure I’d only prepared one trout, and I was sure I’d have noticed a No Nuts instruction. It was one of the most important things to watch out for. I couldn’t have missed it.
‘I’m sure I didn’t do this order,’ I said, trying to stand up straight and stop my voice from shaking. ‘It wasn’t me.’
‘So you say what? Amir, he’s a liar? You try to shift the blame to him?’
‘No!’ I said. ‘I’m saying perhaps he was mistaken—’
‘Has anyone else prepare the trout this evening?’ he barked out to the whole kitchen. There was a deafening silence. He swung back round to face me again. ‘There have been ordered only two trouts,’ he said in a cold, angry voice now. ‘This was the one of them. You have prepared them both. There will be a disciplinary action. It will be on your record of employment—’
‘No!’ I yelled back. Several people’s heads jerked up in surprise. I might have been, in the normal run of things, the most unlikely person to lose her temper with her boss. But this just wasn’t fair, and I couldn’t just stand there and take it. ‘I’ve only done one trout! I’m sorry the lady was given almond
s, but I didn’t give them to her, and I am not taking the blame for it! Tell Amir he’s bloody well got it wrong!’
Marco’s eyes had almost popped out of his head.
‘Take off your whites, get out the hell of my kitchen – now!’ he thundered. ‘I will give the report of you to Mr Fairweather, I will tell him of you … of your disrespectful attitude.’
‘But that’s not bloody fair! It bloody well wasn’t me!’
‘That’s enough of it! You answer me back, you dare to raise the voice at me with curses?’ he screamed, his sweaty red face inches from mine now. ‘This is the gross misconduct, never mind of the trout. Go! Get out! And everyone of rest of you, get back to the work!’
He stormed off, presumably to complain about me to Mr Fairweather – the managing director of the hotel – and I stood, rooted to the spot, not sure whether the tears that were suddenly pouring down my face were because I knew I’d probably now lost my job; or because I realised I’d brought it on myself.
‘I’d better … go, then,’ I said to Liz.
She glanced up at me, and looked back down again.
‘They’ll probably just suspend you for a few days,’ someone else said. ‘You should’ve just kept quiet. He would’ve calmed down.’
‘But I didn’t do it!’ I looked around me. Nobody was sticking up for me, not even Liz. I took off my chef’s whites, went out to my locker to get my things, and looked back into the kitchen on my way out. They were all working, eyes down, silent. ‘I’ll call you later, Liz,’ I said through the lump in my throat.
‘Bye,’ she said, still without looking up.
And that was the last word she’d ever spoken to me. Her phone that evening rang and rang and rang, until I wondered if it was out of order. Her mobile too; and her email didn’t seem to be working either. The next day, I had a call from the hotel’s HR manager. They didn’t need me to return. They were sending me my pay-slip and my P45 in the post. That was the end of my career in catering. Nobody else was likely to employ me after I’d been sacked by The Grand. And anyway, I felt like the last thing I’d ever want to do was to set foot in a kitchen again.
The Pet Shop at Pennycombe Bay Page 13