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I punch the code into the keypad on Edmond’s office door and let myself in.
‘Oh, I’m sorry, Edmond, I didn’t realize—’
‘Becky, what happened to your eye?’
‘I…’ Haven’t even thought of a lie. ‘It’s nothing. I fell in the train station last night.’
He stands from his desk and comes toward me, taking hold of my chin and looking closer at the bruising.
‘And the pavement shot up and punched you in the face?’ The anger in his words is clear.
I don’t have a lie to tell him. He knows he saved me once by bringing me to this restaurant, and in a way, I’ve let him down every day I’ve continued to be with Mike. I’m fed up with letting people down. I’m fed up with being controlled. I’m fed up with my life.
An audible sob escapes me and opens the floodgates to what I think might be endless tears. Edmond seats me at his desk, then leaves the office, returning with two cups of tea. He sets them down with cookies, telling me I could use the sugar, and I tell him everything he needs to know, leaving out the pregnancy and the full extent of just how fucked up my relationship with Mike really is.
‘I knew you weren’t right last night.’ He shakes his head. ‘I never should have sent you home to him.’
I place my hand over his on the desk. ‘Edmond, you’re not to blame for any of this. It’s been my weakness, my decision, to stay with him.’
‘You’re not going back to him, Becky. He hit you.’
I shake my head. ‘No. I’m not going back.’
‘What are your plans?’
I suck in a breath. ‘I haven’t got that far yet. I’ve packed some things and left, that’s all. I need to get away, far enough from my usual life that he can’t find me.’
Edmond leans back in his chair. ‘Stay here. At the hotel. Just for now. I need to make a few phone calls, but I don’t want you to leave. You don’t have to work. I just mean you should stay in the hotel.’
I shake my head again. ‘No, please, Edmond, I want to work. This is the only thing I have left.’ My eyes fill again, but I fight back the tears.
‘Okay. I will spread the word that you fell. If you start working and you don’t feel up to it, you can go to your room.’
‘Thank you.’
* * *
I get to the end of my shift without any questions and without having time to think about anything but the Saturday night service. The decision to work was a godsend.
I’m cleaning down the pastry station when Edmond asks me to follow him to his office. I finish wiping the disinfectant from the steel benchtops and go to him.
He’s sitting on the edge of his desk, his hands folded in his lap. ‘You look better tonight. Do you feel better?’
‘I still have no clue where to go from here, but working has helped.’
He nods. ‘I have a proposition for you. Take a seat.’ I do. ‘How would you feel about taking a job in my New York kitchen? Same role. Same pay.’
‘I…’ I feel my jaw drop. ‘I… New York? America?’ My mind frantically tries to piece together the request.
I would go to New York. To Edmond’s signature restaurant. I’d leave London. I would leave Mike, forever. I’d work out who the hell I really am. I could start again. Free of my family. Free of everyone who has put me down for as long as I can remember.
‘When can I start?’
21
DREW
Becky didn’t come to me on Tuesday, and I didn’t go to her. I told myself I was drinking scotch after scotch with Marty to celebrate winning the trial against Codaware. I know I was really drinking to forget. To be numb.
