‘Oh.’ In that case, I can hardly say no when Neal – and his editor – are doing me a massive favour and publicising The Sweetest Kiss for free. ‘You want to do it now?’
Neal nods and grabs his camera from his satchel. ‘We need to do it before we lose the light.’
‘Doesn’t the paper have a photographer?’ I’m stalling for time, as I’m hardly dressed for the occasion. This morning, if I’d have known I’d be posing for a newspaper shot, I would have put a bit more thought into my outfit rather than throwing on a pair of skinny jeans, an old but comfy T-shirt and a pair of pumps that have seen better days but don’t shred my feet when I’m on them all day. Plus, my hair is a bit nest-like on top of my head and I can’t remember if I’ve touched up my lip gloss since lunchtime.
‘We do, but I’m afraid you’re going to have to slum it with me.’ He holds the camera up with a shrug.
‘Do I have time to nip down the road and ask Nicky to sort my hair and face out?’ I ask as Neal herds me out onto the street, his camera held in front of him like a cattle prod.
‘There’s nothing wrong with your hair and face,’ Caleb says as he joins us out on the pavement. ‘You look great. Natural beauty and all that.’
I’m chuffed with this. It’s a definite compliment. Unfortunately, Neal ruins the moment by dropping his head to one side to scrutinise me.
‘Nicky’s at the salon, right?’
I nod my confirmation. ‘She owns it.’
Neal checks his watch. ‘Maybe she can take a really, really quick look.’
I leg it down the terrace as fast as my legs will take me, barging into the salon and roaming the room with my eyes. Nicky spots me and rushes to my side, comb and scissors in hand.
‘Is everything okay? What’s happened? Will I need these?’ She holds the scissors up menacingly.
‘Maybe, but not as a weapon. Have you got five minutes?’ Clearly she hasn’t. Clearly she’s in the middle of cutting a client’s hair. Clearly I am rude to be even asking.
‘Mrs Benson, there’s a bit of an emergency,’ Nicky says, striding back towards the wall of mirrors. I see the reflection of the caped client’s eyes as they widen. ‘No, not with your hair, hun. It’s nothing hair-related at all. Can you hang on for five minutes? Olivia will make you another cup of tea and throw in a couple of bickies.’
With Mrs Benson relaxed again and awaiting her promised tea and biscuits, Nicky joins me out on the pavement, scissors and comb still in hand.
‘What is it?’ Nicky asks and I feel like a complete fraud. I’ve dragged her out here, inconveniencing her client, so she can make me look a bit more presentable for a photo.
‘Neal’s here,’ I say, and that’s all Nicky needs to hear before she’s striding up towards Sweet Street. I quickly explain the situation so she’s fully up to speed by the time we make it to Neal and Caleb.
‘I’m here to help,’ Nicky says, holding up her weapons of mass beautification. ‘Caleb, can you run down to the salon and ask one of the girls to give you a brown, volumizing mascara, a dusty pink blusher and a bare peach lipstick? Thanks, hun.’
While Caleb jogs down to the salon, Nicky untangles my hair from its (extremely) messy bun and combs it until it’s cascading around my shoulders. With her bare essentials now at hand, she applies the make-up that transforms me from harassed baker to a more presentable modern-day Cupid.
‘There you are!’ Victoria cries, bursting out of the teashop while Nicky is working her magic with a mascara wand. ‘And, Neal, I’m glad you’re here too. I have news!’
‘We’re actually a little busy here, hun,’ Nicky says without taking her eyes off my lashes.
‘It’s fine,’ Neal says. ‘We can spare a few minutes.’
‘Of course we can. Anything for Princess Victoria,’ Nicky mutters under her breath. Luckily, only I can pick up on it because we’re practically eyeball to eyeball.
‘I’ve just been on the phone to Abigail Taylor,’ Victoria says, her voice high-pitched to almost Chipmunk proportions.
‘The manager I told you about?’ Neal asks and Victoria’s head bobs up and down.
‘She wants to see me on Thursday for a chat! She wants to chat to me! Can you believe it?’
‘Of course I can.’ Neal slings his arm around Victoria, which Nicky spots, and the distraction almost leads to a blinding incident when she nearly pokes me in the eye with the mascara wand. ‘I have faith in you, Shrimpy.’
‘Thanks.’ Victoria is beaming. I have never seen her looking so pleased, not even when I invented the peanut butter blondie sandwich (which is two peanut butter blondies sandwiched with Nutella in the middle). ‘I’m so excited I could burst.’
‘Well, try to aim over there.’ Nicky points the wand across the road. ‘We don’t want Maddie getting splattered.’
‘What’s actually going on out here?’ Victoria asks.
‘My editor wants a photo of Maddie outside the teashop,’ Neal explains. ‘For the piece I’ve written.’
‘There.’ Nicky takes a step back while having a last-minute ruffle of my hair. ‘You’re ready.’
‘Apron or no apron?’ I ask Neal. I’m wearing a white, cherry-printed apron with red piping along the edges. I think it’s cute, but I’m aware it could give off a 50s’ housewife vibe.
‘Keep it,’ Neal says before positioning me in front of the door and shooing everyone else away. He steps back into the road so he can get a decent shot of me, the pretty windows and the Sweet Street sign. ‘Point up at the sign. No, not with two fingers, Maddie.’
‘I feel like an idiot,’ I grumble.
‘Like this.’ Neal allows the camera to rest on its strap around his neck and demonstrates a cheesy, 90s’ game-show-assistant pose.
‘Now I really do feel like an idiot,’ I say as I mimic the pose and Neal aims his camera again.
‘You look fab, hun,’ Nicky calls, which is obviously a lie but I appreciate it.
‘Big smile now, Maddie,’ Neal instructs, which makes me want to do anything but smile. I want to drop my arms, slope away and hide in my flat where there are no cameras or people watching me act like a clown. ‘Bigger, Maddie. Pretend you’re picturing Caleb in his underpants.’
‘What?’ I drop the pose and instead adopt a majorly cheesed-off stance, my hands on my hips as I glare at Neal. Once I’ve mentally vaporised Neal, I turn my death-ray eyes on Caleb. ‘You told him?’
Victoria’s mouth opens slowly in my peripheral vision. ‘You’ve seen him in his underpants?’
‘No!’ I cry. Could this get any worse? ‘I just … mentioned seeing him in them, apparently.’
‘There is no apparently,’ Caleb says. The git has a smile on his face. ‘You said it. And then what was your reaction?’ Caleb strokes his chin. ‘Oh, yes. “ugh”.’
Now I really, really want to hide in my flat. I’d quite like to stay there for ever, cocooned in my duvet.
‘You’ve been telling people about it?’ I ask, my voice small and wounded. Who else has he been laughing with about me?
‘I haven’t,’ Caleb says. ‘I haven’t said a word about it to anyone other than you, but clearly you have. Otherwise, how would he know about it?’ We both turn to Neal, who turns to Nicky, who turns to run away.
‘Nicky!’ I grab her arm before she can escape.
‘I’m sorry. It was the other night in the pub. I was a bit drunk and trying to lighten the mood after I’d threatened him with the honey-roasted peanuts.’
‘It worked.’ Neal is grinning like the bloody Cheshire cat. ‘Best laugh I’ve had in ages.’
‘You’re not helping, mate,’ Caleb says and Neal’s grin dims ever so slightly. ‘And anyway, it’s no big deal.’
‘No big deal?’ Victoria asks. ‘Maddie hasn’t even hinted at fancying anyone in the year I’ve known her. I was beginning to think she was one of those non-sexual people. What are they called?’
‘Frigid?’ Neal holds up his hands as he finds himself on the receiving end of
four glares. ‘I’m kidding. You know, having a laugh.’
‘This isn’t funny,’ I wail. ‘And I’m not asexual.’
‘That’s it!’ Victoria cries. ‘Asexual. I knew there was a word for it. I thought you were one of those because you’ve never been interested in anyone. Not even a little bit.’
‘If you must know,’ I say haughtily. ‘I was supposed to get married last year, but seeing my darling fiancé in bed with my best friend sort of put me off sex and relationships.’
I’ve said too much. Way. Too. Much. Nicky already knows, but I wasn’t intending to share my innermost secrets with Victoria, Caleb and Neal – plus anyone else who happens to be on the street at the time. But, hey, at least I’ve found an even more embarrassing moment to trump the Caleb’s underpants one.
Chapter Thirty
I have two options here. I can either run and hole myself away in my flat for ever, existing on the baked goods I can make from the supplies in my cupboards, or I can hold my head high and brazen it out. And, as wonderful as a life of cakes, puddings and biscuits sounds, I decide the best course in the long run is to – in the words of Ms Swift – shake it off.
‘Are we doing this photo or not?’ I ask, repositioning myself in front of the window, cheesy pointing pose and grin in place. With a mixture of not wanting to up the awkward scale any further and the daylight starting to wane, Neal clicks away at his camera and my moment in the limelight is over.
‘All done?’ I ask as Neal lowers his camera. He nods and scurries back to his satchel, which is waiting on the pavement for him. I don’t think Neal has made eye contact with me since my Penny-and-Joel outburst, not even through the camera lens.
‘I’d better be going.’ Neal hooks the satchel over his shoulder. ‘Sorry about the whole underpants thing. I was being an idiot.’
‘You were being an idiot?’ I ask with a self-depreciating laugh. ‘Try being the one who said it in the first place.’
‘Still mates?’ he asks and I nod.
‘Of course we are. As long as the photo you use is flattering. If there’s any sign of a double chin, we’re history.’ I run a finger across my throat to demonstrate.
‘Got it.’ Neal is smiling again, which is a relief as Kingsbury Road was choked with awkwardness for a while there. ‘Let me know how it goes with Abigail Taylor,’ he says to Victoria before he gives a general wave to the group and slips into his car.
‘Well, that wasn’t awkward at all,’ I say as I untie my apron and pull it over my head. ‘Who’s for a restorative cup of tea?’
‘I’d rather something much stronger,’ Caleb says. ‘Can I buy you a drink? Show you there are no hard feelings?’
‘Sure. Why not?’ A drink sounds like a marvellous idea right now. ‘Fancy a quick drink in the pub, girls?’
‘I can’t,’ Victoria says. ‘As soon as we’ve tidied up, I’m off to google Abigail Taylor and find out everything I can about her. What she likes, the people she represents already. I want to go into that meeting on Thursday prepared.’
‘Sounds like a good plan.’ I turn to Nicky, who frowns down at the pavement.
‘Are you sure you want to go for a drink with me after what I did?’
‘Of course I am.’ I throw my arms around her and give her a tight squeeze, whispering, ‘You didn’t mention the icing sugar dream, did you?’
‘Not a word,’ Nicky whispers back.
‘Then I’m sure. Come and have a drink with us.’
Nicky nods and is about to speak when her eyes suddenly widen. ‘Mrs Benson! I’ve left her in the chair. Another time?’
‘I need to clean up first anyway,’ I say but Nicky is already tearing down the street with her make-up, scissors and comb. The three of us make our way back inside the teashop, where I start to gather the cups and plates from the tables.
‘Can you hang on for a few minutes?’ I ask Caleb. ‘I just need to have a quick clean before I close up. Or I could meet you in the pub when I’m done?’
‘I’ll help,’ Caleb says. ‘Point me in the direction of a brush and dustpan and I’ll sweep.’
‘You don’t have to do that,’ I say, but Caleb insists and Victoria, seeing her workload diminishing, is already handing over the brush. While Caleb tackles the floor and Victoria wipes the tables and surfaces down, I head into the kitchen to wash the dishes and give the worktops a thorough scrub. By the time I’ve finished, Victoria has almost finished mopping the teashop’s floor.
‘I’ll finish off in the kitchen,’ I tell her. ‘You get off home and google.’
‘Cheers.’ Victoria hands over the mop. ‘Oh, and if you need anyone to hunt down and maim your slutty ex-fiancé and ex-bestie, I’m your girl.’
‘Thanks, but that won’t be necessary,’ I say.
‘Are you sure?’ Victoria asks. ‘Because I could use an outlet for my Nathan rage.’
‘Why not aim at it the man in question?’ Caleb asks.
‘Because then he’ll know how upset I am and I’ve lost enough without adding my dignity to the list.’
Caleb nods. ‘Fair enough. I think we’ve all been there.’
Victoria pats me on the arm, which is as close to a hug as I’m going to get from her. ‘See you. Have fun tonight.’ She waggles her eyebrows at me, but thankfully Caleb can’t see from his viewpoint.
‘Give me five more minutes,’ I tell Caleb before scurrying into the kitchen with the mop and bucket.
With the cleaning out of the way, I lock the teashop and Caleb and I walk to the pub. I should feel awkward after the evening’s events, and I do until Caleb makes me laugh with tales from the classroom. It sounds like there are quite a few characters in Caleb’s class. I try to match his stories with tales from the teashop, but they’re neither as sweet nor as funny as the descriptions of the children’s antics.
‘Have you thought any more about the graphic design course?’ I ask and Caleb nods.
‘I actually downloaded the details for a course starting in September. It’s part-time during the evenings and weekends, so I should be able to fit it in around work for the time being. Hopefully it won’t disrupt my time with Cara. I’ve fought too hard to let her down now.’
‘I’m sure you’ll work the logistics out,’ I say when we reach the Star Inn. Caleb opens the door and ushers me inside. It’s pretty quiet again, with only a couple of lone drinkers sitting at opposite ends of the bar, plus Harvey and Des sitting together in the middle. They raise a hand in greeting before looking back down at their pints.
‘What are you having?’ Caleb asks as we wander towards the bar. I notice most of the flyers I left here the other night have gone. Hopefully potential clients have picked them up rather than using them as beer mats.
‘Just a Diet Coke,’ I say. ‘I think we both know I can’t be trusted not to say silly things while under the influence.’
‘Is this the boyfriend then?’ Harvey asks as the barman grabs a couple of glasses.
‘Sorry?’ I look from Harvey, to Caleb and back again.
‘The boyfriend you were telling us about the other day,’ Harvey says. ‘The reason you can’t date one of us.’ He jabs a thumb at Des and winks at me.
‘One of us?’ Des asks. ‘She was only ever interested in me, mate.’
Harvey swivels around on his stool to face his friend. ‘And why would a lovely-looking girl like that be interested in a fat bastard like you?’
‘Why would she be interested in a thick, ugly gobshite like you? You have about as many brain cells as you have hairs on your head.’
Harvey gives his balding head a self-conscious rub. ‘And you’ve got a needle dick.’ He makes a fist, leaving out his little finger to wiggle.
‘That’s not what your missus said last night,’ Des mutters, which causes Harvey to raise his fist, little finger tucked in this time.
‘Come on now, mate.’ Caleb reaches out and places a hand on Harvey’s shoulder. ‘No need for that. Bros before …’ Caleb clears hi
s throat ‘… women. You’re mates, aren’t you?’
‘Forty-odd years,’ Harvey grunts.
‘You don’t want to fall out over a woman, do you?’ Caleb asks.
‘Wouldn’t be the first time,’ Des mutters. ‘Decked him thirty years back when he tried it on with my girl.’
‘And yet you’re still friends,’ Caleb says. ‘Don’t spoil it now.’
Harvey unclenches his fist. ‘As long as he doesn’t say anything else about my missus …’
We pounce on our drinks when they’re ready and take them to the table we’ve occupied the past couple of times we’ve been here. It’s a bit strange without the others here with us to fill the space. I miss Nicky’s laughter, Mags’s playlist blaring from the jukebox and Victoria’s threats to mutilate her ex. They’re a colourful bunch and I like being around them. Although Harvey and Des have brought some drama to the evening, it just isn’t the same.
‘I’m sorry to hear about what happened,’ Caleb says, evidently regretting bringing the subject up as he immediately winces. At first I assume he’s talking about Neal’s ribbing about the undies – and wish he was when the real topic is revealed. But then I suppose it’s my own fault for opening my big gob and broadcasting my past. ‘It’s hard enough when a relationship breaks down without throwing something like that in the mix.’
‘I sure know how to pick friends and boyfriends, eh?’ I ask to try to lighten the mood, but Caleb is having none of it. He’s signed us up for a deep and meaningful, no matter how glib I choose to be.
‘It hurts when someone betrays you. Someone you trust and who you never, ever expect to do anything to hurt you.’
‘Did Celine cheat on you?’ Hey, if my laundry is being given a public airing, it can have some company.
‘Not that I could ever prove, but I suspected. And then there was the whole access farce. Keeping Cara away from me hurt me more than finding out she’d been having an affair ever could.’
‘I suppose we were lucky that we didn’t have kids,’ I say.
‘Did you talk about having them?’ Caleb asks and I shake my head.
‘I think I assumed we’d have them, way off in the future. But we never made any concrete plans.’
The Little Teashop of Broken Hearts Page 20
