Page 8 of Just for the Season

‘So do I. Why do we not yet have it?’

‘Because I have failed you.’ She springs up and goes over to her fridge and takes out a bottle of white. ‘I should have done this immediately.’

As she’s pouring, my phone buzzes.

It’s a message from Rick, aka The Tosser, as Ellie has now started calling him:

You didn’t cancel the dinner party. I am standing in my apartment with ten guests and no food. What would you like me to do now?

‘I don’t know what to do,’ I tell Ellie, showing her my screen. ‘I have no home, no job, no fiancé, and apparently I’ve lost my powers of decision-making too. Like, I literally do not know what to do now. What should I reply?’

Ellie pushes an extremely full, extremely large wine glass in front of me, hugs me again and then says, ‘That man is a complete dickhead and no-one should ever be allowed to make you feel like this. You made a really good decision coming down here. You also made really good decisions on these cakes—’ she peers at my plate for the first time ‘—although what is that? Anyway, irrelevant. You don’t need to make any more decisions today. I can totally do it for you. The options are don’t reply at all, or say Fuck off. Or maybe some sarcasm.’

‘I don’t knowwww,’ I whimper.

‘Okay.’ Ellie takes the phone out of my hand. ‘May I?’

I nod.

She types and sends:

Have a lovely evening! xxx

Rick replies with:

Where. Is. The. Food.

‘Where is the food?’ Ellie asks.

‘I was supposed to be cooking it.’

She types and sends another message:

Get takeaway

Then she turns the phone face down on the table. There are at least ten more buzzes, in quick succession, and the only reason I manage to stop myself reading them is that Ellie narrows her eyes at me and shakes her head when she sees me edging my hand in the direction of the phone.

‘Do not read his messages. Such a dickhead,’ she says. ‘Zero empathy. The most self-centred person I’ve ever met. Your world has just imploded around you, courtesy of him, and he’s nagging you about food? That’s actually crazy.’ She hugs me again. ‘I’m so sorry.’

‘Thank you,’ I mumble, pushing the phone further away from me. Then I say, ‘I don’t know what I’m going to do. I can’t even work out what my biggest worry should be, but I do know that I’m homeless and jobless and basically completely buggered.’

‘You are not buggered,’ Ellie says very firmly. Then she points a stern finger at my glass. ‘Drink.’

I take a big gulp while she takes a large sip of her own, before adopting a thinking position.

‘Okay. You aren’t homeless. You’ll always have a home with me,’ she says.

‘I can’t impose.’

‘Don’t be silly. You know Jack and I both love having you here. You’re welcome to stay for as long as you like. Forever if you like. I’d love that. Plus Gran isn’t getting any younger and she’d love you to stay for as long as possible.’

‘I don’t have a job, though. I’ve got the rental income from my flat and that’s it. So I wouldn’t be able to pay you a lot of rent.’

‘Frankie!’ Ellie looks aghast, simultaneously eyes wide open and frowning. ‘I don’t want rent from you. All I want from you is your company and to know that I’m helping. You were such a rock to me when Jack was little—’ Ellie and I were nearly eighteen when Jack was born (she has no idea who his father is) so obviously she did need some help, which I was more than happy to provide ‘—and I want to be here for you now.’ She pauses and then says, ‘I mean, obviously I will require you to bake a lot because I love your cakes, and also make your chicken tagine regularly, but other than that I have no requirements at all from you other than that you let me help.’

‘Thank you,’ I sniff.

‘And job-wise,’ she continues, ‘you didn’t love that job, so maybe now is a good time for a reset. Just take as long as you need to work out what you want to do and do that. Maybe finish your book.’ Ellie is the only person in the world I’ve told about the very steamy romance I’ve been writing. ‘I mean, you’re so talented, and so amazing, and I’m not sure you were fully utilising all your amazingness working for The Tosser.’