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Cassandra’s cheeks flamed. “I’m not sure what you mean,” She’d denied quietly but insistently, moving on.
The night went downhill from there.
“Kate,” Ruby accosted her after an hour of mortifying exposure to this hoity toity crowd of locals. “What is the matter? I know you’re always a beacon to our poor smitten male guests, but tonight, you seem to be the centre of everyone’s circle.”
The chef looked over, a smile on his kindly, chubby face. “Don’t you know we’ve royalty in our midst, Rubes?” He asked jovially, with a wink at Cassandra.
“Royalty?” Ruby looked at a loss.
“Mark,” Cassandra addressed the chef. “Don’t buy into the rumours. You know what papers will print for circulation.”
“Papers?” Ruby’s frown deepened. “What exactly was in the papers, Kate? Start from the beginning, but make it quick. We have to get the soufflé spoons out in the next ninety seconds.”
Ruby ended up finishing Cassandra’s shift. Once Cass had relayed the sketchy outline of her exposure as real life nobility, goddaughter to the Prince, trust fund heiress, Ruby suggested Cass should wait until the dust settled before returning to work. “You’re my best waitress, kiddo, and I’d be happy to have you anytime, but you’ve got to work through what’s on your plate.”
Cassandra had nodded glumly. She was planning on finishing up in the next month or so anyway, just as soon as she found a job that utilised her university degree.
“I can keep you on for kitchen work if you’re stuck for money,” Ruby said automatically, and then clapped a hand to her mouth. “Oh, crikey! Of course you’re not stuck for money. You’ve got bags of it. Nonetheless, Kate, I mean, Cassandra, er, I mean, Lady Cassandra – just what the heck am I supposed to call you, anyway?”
Cassandra had smiled in spite of herself. “Cass is fine, Ruby.”
“Cass, dear, stay in touch, and keep your chin up. It will blow over sooner than you think.”
She gave her a kiss on the cheek and then breezed out of the kitchen, talking to herself about soufflés and lemon curds.
Cassandra couldn’t face going back to Benedict’s apartment. The only place she wanted to be then was with Cherie and her old friends. She jumped on a bus and followed the familiar route all the way to her little apartment.
Walking back in to her front door felt like going home, and at the same time, it didn’t. She realised then that she didn’t have a home. Staying at Benedict’s was a form of torture, given the state of their relationship. What would she do next? Could she even stay in Sydney? Benedict’s high rise project was scheduled to last another two years, and he’d indicated to her that he intended to remain on hand throughout.
If he was here, could she be? She shook her head, not wanting to think about that. It was too hard.
“Hello?” She called out, to a deafening silence. “Cherie? Timmy? Ryan?” She walked from room to room. No one was home.
She collapsed onto their threadbare sofa and lay down, flicking on the telly to watch some mind-numbing American reality program. So called reality, anyhow, she thought with a small smirk as the show got less and less credible.
Cherie and the others returned close on midnight, to find a sleeping Cass on their sofa.
Early the next day, with the dawn light streaming in through the lounge room window, Cass woke up and blinked. Her mouth was dry and she sat up, looking around in confusion. “Good morning!” Cherie greeted her cheerily, standing in the kitchen wearing a stretched shirt of Timothy’s, a pot of coffee in hand.
“Can I make you a tea, m’lady?” She asked teasingly.
Cass stretched. “A tea would be great. But I’ll make it, while you fill me in on what’s been going on around here. The place is a tip!”
“Yes. We’ve rented your room temporarily to a Romanian Body Builder.”
Cass arched her brows. “Really? Well, he needs to learn to put things away.”
“She.” Cherie corrected with a roll of her eyes.
Cassandra broke into peals of laughter, which she tried to quieten with a hand clamped over her mouth.
When Cassandra finally decided that she ought to return to Benedict’s apartment and the painful visit from her father and his wife, it was almost lunch time, and boiling hot.
She was in no rush to get back to that particular hive of cruelty and derision, so she took her time getting there. Despite being only a couple of kilometres from her old apartment, she dawdled as much as she could, stopping to grab an iced lolly along the way.
Frank greeted her by raising his bushy silver eyebrows and revealing his yellowing teeth in a smile. “Gudday, love.”
She gave him a small wave.
