Kirsty nodded. “I ordered them online, but I’m still worried what Betty is going to say when she sees them. She bakes delicious cupcakes, and then I stick signs in them that say ‘Fuck You!’, ‘Good Riddance!’ and ‘Solo is My Jam!’”
Now it was Helena’s turn to snort. “She’ll get over it.” She paused. “I also want you to know, you’ve been incredible the way you’ve dealt with the whole website hiccup, too. You’ve been the bigger person, and I appreciate that.”
Kirsty nudged her friend with her elbow. “I couldn’t deal with my whole world falling apart at once. I needed some stability.” Plus, Helena had been a huge help the past two days since everything kicked off. Kirsty hadn’t heard from Saffron, which spoke volumes. She assumed she was turning up later for Ginger’s party, but who knew? The lure of Echo Black and the movie world might have whisked her away. Kirsty had removed Instagram from her phone so she couldn’t fixate. She had to get back to thinking about her new business venture and making tonight the best she could make it. If Saffron turned up, she would be polite but distant. She wouldn’t crumble to dust in front of her.
Even though the thought of Saffron made Kirsty pine. She pressed her feet to the floor and focused on the sea out the window. It was calm, with no waves. Kirsty needed to emulate that body of water tonight. Not the wave-inducing kind.
“Where do you want these balloons strung up, love?”
Her dad’s shouting broke her thoughts. A swell of love made her heart expand as Kirsty looked over to her parents, who were both busy blowing up purple and pink balloons, then fastening them together. When finished, the balloon banner was going to spell ‘Happily Divorced!’, and hang on the far side of the space for everyone to see.
“Right above the cake table.” Kirsty pointed towards the ceiling where she was standing. “The hooks are already there.” All that bunting hanging in the shop meant she was a pro.
Her dad gave her a thumbs up.
Mum put down a finished balloon and walked over, chuckling at the cake topper that had the bride throwing the groom into a toy bin lorry. “We never had this in my day, but I know a few friends who would have loved to have had one.” Her mum put a hand on her hip, and glanced up at Kirsty. “Would you have wanted to do one after you and Anna divorced?”
Kirsty shook her head. “I don’t think so. I was too upset. But a party to draw a line when the dust had settled would have been nice. I think Ginger’s very brave doing this, making a statement.”
Her mum rubbed her hands together. “It’s the Butlers in the Buff I’m looking forward to. When are the naked waiters getting here?”
Kirsty laughed. “You’ll notice them when they arrive. Look for the naked arses and the aprons that barely cover much at all.”
* * *
Three hourslater and it was all systems go. The main food, to be served in bowls throughout the night, was seafood based and so would be cooked right before it was eaten.
Kirsty stood at the end of the chef’s main pass, the staff a blur of activity around her. The oysters sat to her left in a vat of ice, the prawns beside them. She recalled the food tasting with Saffron. When things had just started to thaw after their first Echo Black interruption. Kirsty should have called it off there and then, shouldn’t she? Hindsight was a mighty impressive thing.
She pushed open the door to the main space, loving the buttery afternoon light that flooded the space. They’d moved the cakes to the chiller cabinet to avoid them melting to gloop. The deck out front was going to be in full use tonight, so Helena and Hugh were decorating it with bunting and balloons. Kirsty was happily trading on their guilt to make them work and it was panning out well. To her right, the live band had arrived and were setting up on stage. In the far corner, the photobooth was being assembled.
Kirsty turned her attention to the cocktail bar and Mia, their head bartender for the night. How old was she? 25? Almost half Kirsty’s age. She hoped working a divorce party wouldn’t scar her too much.
“So you’re good on our Divorce Sour cocktail?” This was Ginger’s creation, emailed to Kirsty at 3am the night of her and Saffron’s meltdown. Just two days ago. It felt like two years. Kirsty had opened the email wondering if Ginger was playing go-between for her sister, but no. Instead, she’d received a badly spelled email listing the cocktail’s ingredients, also telling Kirsty that Dave could ‘go fuck himself’.
“Got it.” Mia put her hand on top of a bottle of Bombay Sapphire gin. “Gin, bitters, egg white, sugar syrup and lime juice. I just boiled down some sugar syrup so we’ve got plenty of it.” She pointed to the basket of limes behind the bar. “Plus, Luke is arriving soon, and he’s got big muscles. I’m going to make him use them on these limes.”
“Excellent.” Kirsty paused. “Have you tried it?”
Mia nodded. “Made a couple last night. They were pretty good. The punters should be happy.”
A tap on Kirsty’s shoulder made her jump. She turned, clutching her chest, to find Ginger behind her. “You scared the shit out of me!” Kirsty gave her a hug.
“My apologies,” Ginger replied. “How’s the Divorce Sour coming along?”
“Full of bitter regret, just the way you wanted it.” Mia gave Ginger a grin.
“Cool.” She paused. “Do you mind if I steer Kirsty away for a few minutes?”
It was a rhetorical question. Ginger took Kirsty by the elbow and out onto the deck, past Helena and Hugh, right to the edge.
“Another step and I’d be in the sea.”
“Don’t do that. Not until the party’s over.”
Kirsty gave her a smile, staring across the water. The ocean never failed to calm her. She’d been kayaking again this morning. It had proved a lifeline in her stormy emotional seas.
“What are you doing here, anyway?” Kirsty wagged a finger. “You should be getting your glad rags on and gearing up.” She pulled her phone from her shorts’ pocket. “It’s nearly 4.30.”
