AllFreeNovel
Share Us
‘And this?’ George asked, picking up my cardboard cut-out of Gordon Ramsay.
‘Absolutely not. Gordon keeps my culinary standards in check; he’s staying to the bitter end,’ I said, propping him back up in the kitchen.
‘He can have his own bedroom in the new house,’ George said dreamily, ‘three bedrooms instead of one, a massive TV on the wall and space for my table football.’
‘Hmm,’ I said, taking a long look at all the character in my little flat. The sash windows, the exposed brick walls, the fireplace and wooden beams. It would be all plasterboard and plastic in the new place, but I suppose it would be safer and more secure. No more draughts rattling through the windows at night.
‘How long do cats live again?’ he asked, backing out the front door.
‘Get used to him,’ I shouted as it slammed shut.
There was a huge space where the boxes had been, and I could finally see my fluffy, raspberry carpet again. Basil curled into a white, furry ball and closed his eyes as I took a large gulp of wine, savouring the rich, heady taste of a classic Italian red, before wrestling another cardboard box into shape. I bubble-wrapped the porcelain dish I’d bought from Portobello Market, still full of angel cards, the green glass balls from Venice and the candlesticks Mum and Dad had bought me as a housewarming gift. It felt strange emptying my little flat of all its me-ness, but George was right; it would save us a month’s rent and it was only for a few weeks. I hadn’t planned to take my candlesticks on honeymoon, so I had to suck it up and pack it all away. We just needed enough stuff to get us through our wedding and everything else would be safe until the house was ready. I spotted our wedding blackboard on the mantelpiece and picked up the blue chalk, rubbing out the number 31 and replacing it with a nice fat 30.Days until we say I DO.Thirty days until our happily ever after.
Two
Four weeks to the wedding. 12th August
I carefully slid the cork out of the Pomerol Le Pin and breathed in the familiar scent of a heady French red. The undertones were so rich, they were almost meaty, and blackberries and plums whooshed happily up my nose as I gave the cork a second sniff. The table of six watched closely as I tipped asoupçoninto the host’s glass. The perfect pairing for his steak.
‘The 2015 vintage,’ I said, with a confident nod. ‘It was their best in a decade.’
‘Ah yes, of course,’ the man said, his half-moon specs quivering as he swirled the thick, cherry liquid enthusiastically and watched the drips run slowly down the glass. He inhaled deeply and closed his eyes. ‘Lovely, really lovely,’ he said, slurping a mouthful, sucking it into his teeth and giving a delicate gargle before swallowing.
I waited for the official nod.
‘Yes, yes, go ahead,’ he said, his hairy fingers gripping his glass tightly as he held it out to me.
I poured the wine as Margot laid down the main courses with a smile.
‘Alors.Tonight’splat principal. Wagyu beef with a Pinot Noir jus, served with dauphinoise potatoes, and freshly foraged leeks and beans from our bistro allotment.’
The combination of smells was divine, and my stomach gave a low growl as I silver-served the vegetables to the table. The pre-wedding juice cleanse was taking its toll and I couldn’t remember the last time I’d had a mouthful of cheesy potatoes. George had suggested we replace breakfast and lunch with celery juice in the run-up to the big day, so I just had to hang on for a few more weeks and then the carbs would be back with a vengeance.
My first year working at Chez Margot had whizzed by. I couldn’t believe my luck when I’d stumbled across it only three streets from the flat, when I first moved to London. Marylebone was full of surprises like that: streets crammed with lovely shops and pathways that led to cosy pubs with tiny roof gardens. The flat itself was more like a wardrobe than a dwelling, but what it lacked in size, it made up for with position. I could walk twenty minutes in any direction to the most amazing places. Fabulous cocktail bars on Carnaby Street, real Italian coffee right next to the train station, Selfridges, Liberty and other fantastic shops on Oxford Street. Chez Margot became a small piece of my London tapestry from the moment I saw it. Eating there turned into my payday treat and Margot got so used to me popping in for a homebound glass of wine, first with Abi and later with George, that we eventually became friends.
When I lost my job last summer, I’d made a beeline for the bistro on autopilot, and it had been Margot’s shoulder I’d cried on before telling anyone else. 3 p.m. one random Tuesday and I remember it like it was yesterday.
*
‘Is everything OK, Holly?’ she’d asked as I tinkled into the restaurant. ‘This is very early, even for you?’
‘Is it? I’m not sure,’ I said, in a daze, ‘I think I’m in shock.’
‘Has something happened? Is someone ill?’ She steered me to the bar and propped me against a stool. ‘Let me get you a drink. You look pale.’
‘No one’s ill,’ I replied, monotone, ‘I’ve been made redundant.’ There. I’d said it out loud. It was real.
Margot doubled the dosage and handed me a large whisky, no ice.
‘Drink this and keep breathing,’ she said gently, ‘in for four and out for four. You just need some time. It will be OK.’
I nodded silently and gulped down the whisky, the shock of the sharp liquid bringing me back to myself as Margot busied herself in the kitchen to give me a minute. I caught my reflection among the bottles behind the bar and did a double take. My face was pinched and pale, with smudged eyeliner and hair like an orange shower pouf. What was I going to do? How would I pay the rent? Could George pay the bills for both of us? Would he? London was way too expensive to not have a job.
Margot launched herself bum-first through the kitchen door, a bottle of wine in each hand.
‘So. Tell me?’ she said, leaning on the bar.
‘There’s a restructure… they’re very sorry, I’m a great employee, the cuts are unavoidable, blahdy-blah. I can’t remember the rest. They gave me this and said I could go.’ I handed the letter to Margot, who scanned it quickly, then folded it in half with a nod.
