“Don’t do that,” Carla said, a warning tone entering her voice. “I’m not going to start seeing anyone. I like being single, it suits me far better and you know it.” Elodie had to agree: Carla did have a knack for the single life and for as long as they’d known each other that had always been Carla’s M.O.
Changing the subject, Elodie suggested a pamper session together. Carla enthusiastically agreed as she too was working the following day so would also have limited time to get ready. Elodie handed Carla the remote control for the television and told her to put a music channel on whilst she went upstairs to get some beauty supplies. She reappeared a few minutes later carrying face masks, nail varnishes and a pair of pink tweezers.
“You couldn’t do my eyebrows for me?” she begged. Carla was the queen of personal grooming and Elodie wasn’t about to waste a golden opportunity for some world- class treatments. Carla threw one of the sofa’s grey cushions at her friend in pseudo- offence. “I’ll take that as a yes, then,” Elodie joked, handing the tweezers over and making herself comfortable on the sofa, her head resting in Carla’s lap.
The hours passed and the two friends laughed, joked and pampered themselves to their hearts’ content. By lunchtime, the rain had all but stopped and ribbons of sunlight had begun to appear, breaking through the clouded sky and dappling the world beneath.
“What do you think?” Elodie asked, stretching her hand out for Carla to examine her work. Carla looked up from her own nails and studied Elodie’s outstretched nails.
“Wow, I see you went for something completely different,” she exclaimed sarcastically. “Pale pink, eh? Was it a choice between nude, clear, pale pink or bone?”
Elodie retracted her hand, hiding it behind her back in a childlike way. “Well I like them, they’re understated,” she said, sounding hurt.
“I’m joking, hun; they look gorgeous, elegant and sweet, just like you,” Carla said quickly, obviously feeling bad that her joke hadn’t been taken in the light- hearted way that it had been intended.
Elodie smiled and looked at her nails once more, no longer uncertain about how they looked.
“What did you go for?” she asked Carla, pulling at her friend’s hand in order to get a better look. “Wow, they’re amazing, how did you do that?” Elodie said, impressed by the artistic and professional job Carla had managed to execute.
“Well, considering the most daring colour you own is coral I had to be creative,” she said, brandishing her nails in a dramatic way that made Elodie giggle. She had managed to create a dip- dye look: the nails started bright at the bed and gradually became lighter at the tip. They looked like a fancy take on a French manicure. Elodie felt a little pang of jealousy, ‘Why can’t I be that creative?” she thought self- critically.
Before long the two women had run out of ways to pamper themselves and Carla decided that it was probably time to head home. She leant over the back of the sofa and reached out towards her clothes, satisfied that they were dry enough to wear home. She took off the loaned clothes and pulled hers on. First went on her jeans which had dried a little tight and took Carla a bit more effort to do up than she would have liked. She pulled her top over her head but misjudged the armholes and ended up stuck. Elodie laughed as Carla struggled against the top: she was well and truly trapped and the sight of it made Elodie laugh harder than she had done in ages.
“Help me, then!” Carla cried through fits of laughter. Elodie walked towards her, still chuckling to herself and helped Carla back out and then into her top.
“What’s going on here?” a voice said admonishingly from behind them. Elodie spun round on her heel, feeling like a child caught stealing sweets. Tom was stood in the doorway to the living room, his hands placed squarely on his hips. “Alright, Cara?” he asked. Elodie winced at the pleasure he seemed to revel in at getting Carla’s name wrong.
“Good thanks, Tim,” Carla combatted, a sweet smile on her face. “I’m just off actually.” She turned her back to Tom and, facing Elodie, gave her a fierce hug. “Thanks, El, I’ve had an awesome day,” she whispered into Elodie’s ear before giving her friend a quick kiss on the cheek. She silently mouthed the words ‘Call me’ and took her leave, squeezing past Tom as she went.
“She been here all day?” Tom asked as he surveyed the flat. Elodie shook her head, not entirely sure why she couldn’t just tell him the truth.
Elodie awoke early the following day with what felt like butterflies doing the conga inside her stomach. Tonight was the night. She had told Tom of her plans the previous evening over dinner. Elodie wasn’t sure why, but a night out with her friends felt like way bigger news than it actually was; she had actually felt nervous about telling him. So in an effort to placate any possible fall- out she had made Tom’s favourite meal, steak and chips. She needn’t have worried, though. Tom wasn’t exactly keen on the idea, but assured her that it was more out of fear about her safety than jealousy.
‘I just worry about you, Pumpkin, you’re not like the rest of them. You’re too nice and people take advantage of you,’ he had said. Elodie had told him not to worry and that she would be fine.
She smiled to herself as she packed her overnight bag; she genuinely couldn’t remember that last time she’d done this. Without realising it, her life had become very routine. ‘Not that routine’s a bad thing, it’s just nice to mix things up once in a while,’ she thought to herself as she threw her curlers into the bag. She did a quick mental check of everything she had packed and when she was satisfied that she hadn’t forgotten anything she zipped the bag up and slung it over her shoulder. It was much heavier than she had anticipated: Elodie winced as it bore down on her shoulder, the leather strap bit into her skin and she wondered whether packing three pairs of shoes really was a good idea. ‘Too late now,’ she thought as she stole a glance at the clock on her dresser and realised that she should have left quite a while ago.
She took one last look in the mirror. Once again she had opted for slouchy blue jeans and a baggy T- shirt; it was after all extremely important to always put function ahead of fashion, especially in her line of work. Elodie wore no makeup, she wanted to give her skin a break, especially seeing as she knew Carla would insist on doing her makeup for their night out. Elodie would be surprised if she could still recognise herself after Carla was done with her. Elodie glanced around her bedroom, just to make double sure she hadn’t forgotten anything. She felt as though she were leaving a hotel room and doing one last sweep of the place before checking out.
Elodie arrived at Betty’s Book Café with barely a minute to spare. She pushed the door open and the familiar tinkle of the bell welcomed her into the café. Carla was already at her station, ready and waiting for the first flood of customers. Steph was doing one last check of the cakes and Betty could be heard in the kitchen singing along to an ’eighties song that was playing in the background. Elodie saw Steph smirk as she heard her mum try and hit the high notes of ‘Love is a Battlefield’. Betty was a wonderful woman with many talents; singing, however, was definitely not one of them. Elodie saw Steph lean over and close the door between the café and the kitchen.
“I don’t think we need to hear any more of that, she’ll end up scaring the customers away,” she said almost apologetically.
“That’ll be nothing compared to us later,” Carla joked, an air of excitement in her voice. “I see you’ve come prepared,” she said, nodding towards Elodie’s oversized holdall. Steph reached over and took the bag from Elodie.
“I’ll pop it behind the counter,” she offered. “Jesus, Elodie, I don’t pack this much stuff for an entire week, let alone one night.” Elodie laughed: she had totally over- packed and knew it, but she wanted to be totally prepared. She was so excited, knowing that they were going to have a great night and that they’d be dining out on whatever hilarities were to ensue for months to come.
The day passed slowly. Elodie couldn�
�t help but check her watch constantly but every time she did so she was disappointed to see that barely a handful of minutes had passed. Lunchtime dragged around and the café picked up its pace; it seemed busier than usual, which didn’t leave the three of them much time to chat. There seemed to be a relentless tide of customers that just didn’t seem to ebb. Normally this was a good thing; usually, the busier they were, the quicker the time seemed to fly, but not today. For some reason, by the time closing- time came Elodie felt as though she’d been at work for several days instead of one. All three women stared at the clock, three minutes to go, two minutes to go, one minute to… The bell above the door sounded, breaking all three of them out of their trance instantly. Elodie spun round on her heels, the smile on her face not at all reflecting the annoyance she felt inside.
“Tom?” she said questioningly, completely caught off guard by his sudden appearance. He stood there, beaming like a Cheshire cat. He wore, as far as Elodie could tell, a brand- new suit and looked like he had come straight from the barbers: his designer stubble beard and dark hair looked extremely neat and polished.
“I got it, babe, absolutely smashed it!” he said, the grin widening even further. “I’m officially H.O.C.,” Tom finished, his chest puffed out like a gorilla in mating season.
“H.O.C.?” Elodie asked, immediately regretting her question.
“Head of Commercial. God, El, don’t you know anything?” he answered, his lip curling. “Anyone could have worked that out.”
Elodie apologised quickly, Carla opened her mouth to speak out against Tom but Steph instinctively placed a warning hand on her arm which told her to bite her lip. They knew better than to get involved.
“Sorry, of course, well done. That’s amazing news,” Elodie offered.
“Anyway,” Tom continued, completely oblivious to the now stale atmosphere hanging in the air, “we’re going out tonight to celebrate, I’ve booked Tony’s Italian and it’s going to be epic, all you can eat carbonara and cheap booze,” he finished proudly. He walked over to Elodie with his arms outstretched, he gave her a massive hug and squeezed her so tightly she thought her eyes might pop out of her head.
“But, I,” Elodie stammered, “I can’t do tonight. I’m staying with Carla and Steph,” she finished weakly.
“You can go out any time, Pumpkin, I’ll only get to celebrate this promotion once.”
Elodie was dumbstruck. She didn’t want to let anyone down, but she’d promised Carla and Steph she’d start spending some time with them and, more to the point, she really wanted to go. She opened her mouth to speak but Tom shushed her. “It’s OK, El, you do whatever you want to do. I shouldn’t have presumed you’d want to celebrate with me. We can go out another time, I’ll have a night to myself, order a takeaway or something,” he said, looking crestfallen, his chest deflated.
“No, I want to celebrate with you, of course I do, sorry, babe. I’ll re- arrange it with the girls.” She turned round to Carla and Steph who were still stood by the counter, watching. “You guys don’t mind, do you? Tom’s just got that promotion and he’s already booked a restaurant. We can go out any old time, can’t we?” Elodie looked hopefully from Carla to Steph and back again. Neither of them looked impressed and after what seemed like a lifetime of silence, Steph spoke.
“You do whatever you need to do El. If you want to come with us, we’ll be upstairs. If not, we’ll see you next week.” She congratulated Tom stiffly then turned around, taking Carla with her before anything was said that couldn’t be unsaid. The two women disappeared and Elodie was left alone with Tom.
“See, they’re not bothered at all and it means way more to me to have you by my side.” He pulled her close to him and gave her another squeeze. Elodie untangled herself from his grasp and managed a half- hearted smile that wouldn’t fool even the most gullible person. She went behind the counter and picked up her bag. Tom, already impatient, nagged at her to hurry up, he wanted to go for a celebratory drink before they went to eat.
“Give me ten minutes,” Elodie said, “I need to pop a bit of makeup on and get changed. Good job I bought my going- out stuff with me.”
“Nah, you don’t need any makeup, you’re beautiful the way you are. I prefer you without it anyway, I always think that makeup makes girls look a bit try- hard,” he said, in a matter- of- fact way.
“But I’ve been in these clothes all day,” she moaned, attempting to break away to retrieve her bag.
“El, we need to go now,” Tom said, looking at his watch. “The table’s booked for seven and I really want a quick drink with you first. You don’t need to get changed or put makeup on, surely it only matters what I think and I think you look nice. Come on, babe, let’s just go.” He looked at her imploringly.
Elodie took a moment then nodded, he was right. She didn’t need to wear makeup, she looked fine and after all, it was his big night. It wouldn’t kill her to go out like this.
“Okay then, let’s go,” she said with a finality to her voice that made Tom smile.
“Brilliant,” he said, grabbing her by the arm and tugging her out of the door.
It was a nice evening so they walked to the bar Tom had picked. It was extremely busy and finding a place to sit was completely impossible. Post- work revellers spilled out onto the pavement outside; Elodie and Tom had to weave through them in order to get inside. The bar was packed several people deep and they had to wait quite a while before they could order. Tom ordered himself a pint and when Elodie opened her mouth to order her own drink he interrupted her and ordered for her.
“… and a rum and Coke please, mate,” he said, before producing a twenty- pound note and handing it over. “Keep the change.”
The barman looked impressed and thanked Tom whole- heartedly. Elodie noticed Tom’s chest puff out in that obnoxious way again. She took the drink from the bar and sipped at it. She hadn’t had a rum and Coke in forever: years ago it had been her favourite drink but now, not so much. Still, it was sweet that Tom had remembered. There was no denying it, Tom was in a very good mood, and for that Elodie was very grateful. He chatted animatedly to her about what his new role would entail, who he was now in charge of and how much more money he was going to be earning.
“Of course, it’s not just all about me. You stand to benefit too. I don’t want to spoil anything so let’s just say that I might have a little surprise for you,” he said mysteriously. Elodie sipped her rum and Coke and raised an eyebrow quizzically. “All I’ll say is, you better pack your flip flops.”
Elodie’s heart soared and she broke out into a wide grin. She couldn’t believe she’d been so hard on him lately, he was actually quite sweet sometimes. She could see why sometimes people thought he was a bit arrogant or emotionally inept but they didn’t see this side of him. Her mind began to wander to all the fabulous destinations she’d looked at and lusted over. She tried to remember which ones she’d mentioned to Tom, or maybe he’d stolen a peek at one of her magazines for inspiration. She didn’t care either way: she was going to get to spend some quality time with the man she loved, with some sand underfoot and some sangria in her hand. ‘You know what goes with sun, sand and sangria, don’t you?’ a little voice in the back of her head whispered. Elodie giggled to herself but Tom didn’t notice. He was too busy waving frantically over the crowds of people to someone whom Elodie couldn’t see.
“Who’s that?” she asked, standing on her tiptoes to get a better view.
“Al and Patrice,” Tom said, waving his two friends over. Alan Hopkins, or Al as he liked to be known, was Tom’s best friend from school. Despite being offered an unconditional place at a university up north Al had decided to give it a miss and stay near Tom. Where Tom went Al went too and that included work. He had claimed that anything beyond Watford was a little too far north for him anyway. Patrice was a colleague Tom and Al had met a couple of years ago when he’d started working in their dep
artment. The three of them had soon become firm friends. Patrice had been new to London and Tom had taken him under his wing, introduced him into his friendship group and shown him all the sights. Elodie knew that in Patrice’s mind Tom was something of a legend. She smiled at them both as they came over. Each of them gave her a quick kiss on the cheek and then they turned their attention to Tom.
“Alright, mate,” Al said, raising his hand to flag the barman down.
The barman, who had several other people to serve, rolled his eyes but came over anyway, clearly deciding which battles were worth fighting and which were not. Al ordered six pints for the lads and nothing for Elodie when he saw that she had half of her rum and Coke left. Elodie didn’t exactly love Tom’s friends; she thought them to be quite immature and hardly ever socialised with them. She was always pleasant to them but the fact that they had stolen her away from her own friends made her current circumstances quite a bitter pill to swallow.
The minutes dragged by, each one seemingly longer than the one that had preceded it. The boys talked about nothing other than Tom’s promotion, and they talked non- stop. Elodie couldn’t get a word in edgeways and after several failed attempts to join in gave up trying and sipped at her drink instead. She winced, pretty sure that her rum was a double measure. It was strong, and no matter how many sips she took it never seemed to get any nicer. She couldn’t believe she actually used to enjoy this drink. Elodie glanced around. She saw people chatting animatedly, heard laughter and felt very much out of the loop; no matter how hard she tried she just couldn’t get into the swing of things socially when she hung out with Tom and his friends. She would never have admitted it, not to anyone, but she was so bored she could cry.
Elodie took out her mobile phone and pressed the home button. She tensed a little when she saw she had several messages, all from either Steph or Carla. She scanned the messages: all of them were in the same vein, begging her to reconsider and reconvene their girls’ night out. Elodie looked up and caught Tom’s eye. He was giving her a disapproving look.
Chasing Clouds Page 5
