Other more jokey times, we had discussed the fact that I must have “needs” and that I should be making more of an effort to take care of my said “needs.” Said with a twinkle in her eye, I had known exactly what she meant.
The Velux window I was staring at suddenly swung open. The exquisitely made up face of Winter appeared in the small opening.
‘AMY! AMY!... are you coming up?’ She beckoned to me with her twinkling, red manicured nails. ‘We have Pinot,’ she teased.
I laughed at her information and flung open the car door.
‘On my way. Pour me a large glass,’ I shouted back.
I left my case on the passenger seat. Although Lauren had a two-bedroomed flat, the guest room was only accessible by an outside staircase. It was like it had its own private entrance and I would drag my case up there later.
I slammed the door to my car, ignoring its creaking hinges. Then I grabbed hold of the wrought iron staircase that would lead me to being the young woman my nan wanted me to be. For the first time in a long time, I realised I wanted to be her, too.
With every step I took on the black, ornate metal, my excitement began to ramp up. The shackles of the everyday worries and concerns I normally carried around with me began to break and fall away. If the steps hadn’t been icy, I would have run up the last few.
The door opened as I got to it and the warmth from the small flat swept out. Winter’s hand grabbed my arm as if I might be having second thoughts and pulled me inside quickly.
‘Give me your coat. Your wine is on the breakfast bar.’
I complied immediately, shrugging myself out of my scarf and coat and thrusting them into her arms. I kicked off my boots and looked around for Lauren. Then I walked the few steps to the small breakfast bar that served as a dinner table for two in the small, but well thought out, flat.
I loved Lauren’s space. Although her flat was in the old servant’s quarters above what would have been the coach houses, she had made the small amount of square footage work for her. The whole place had been modernised and was painted in what she called “Antique lace.” In one corner of the open-plan living space was the kitchen/breakfast area and the opposite corner housed a desk and chair with storage for her business paperwork. The rest of the space was filled with an array of mismatching furniture, all very deliberate. She had incorporated different fabrics and patterns, all with the same cream and dark red colouring, to give the impression that the comfortable room had been put together effortlessly. When, in fact, it had taken her ages to complete. In the centre of the room was a floor-to-ceiling, completely cylindrical log burner, roaring flames could be seen from every angle through the large glass doors.
Finally, my eyes found Lauren, spread out in the middle of the floor on her stomach. Her jean-clad legs were bent at the knees and crossed at the ankles. Her bright pink fluffy socks rubbed together as she concentrated on her work. Papers, invoices and her open laptop surrounded her.
I looked behind me to find Winter hooking up my coat on a vacant peg next to the door. Moving quickly, I grabbed my wine glass and then sidled up behind our always immaculately turned out friend. I lifted her thick dark hair away from her ear and whispered into it.
‘Look, I need to ask this… Do you think her helping you, is a good idea?’ I didn’t need to explain to Winter, she knew precisely what I was asking. ‘Every time she has found out Rafferty might possibly be at The Manor she’s found some excuse to lie low. Once she even made Toby take her away for a romantic weekend.’ I pulled a grimace as Winter quickly looked at me and contorted her face into a pained expression. Neither of us were fans of Toby.
Winter turned very gingerly to check Lauren wasn’t watching us and answered my question, keeping her voice as low as possible. ‘She was adamant she wanted to help me.’ We both guiltily looked in Lauren’s direction again. ‘The truth is, she’s the only one I trust to help me in the kitchen… but if I felt she couldn’t cope with it, I would have gone elsewhere. I don’t want to see her hurt again…you know that. But it was seventeen years ago. Truthfully, I think her and Raff need closure, they both need to move on. Hopefully after this weekend they can.’
I crossed my fingers on my spare hand and lifted them in between us, raising my eyebrows as I did so.
‘Come on, you two. Stop whispering. What are you waiting for?’ We both turned automatically and plastered “butter wouldn’t melt” smiles on our faces as we moved towards Lauren. ‘I’ve checked and reworked the spreadsheet. If all three of us pull our weight, this is all doable, just.’ She finished speaking and pulled a face. ‘I know you both think I’m anal, but I’ve made a separate list of jobs for us all. Things that need checking, collecting and hours that we’re all going to actually need to work in the kitchen at The Manor, and in The Fairy Garden.’ Lauren jumped up from the floor and made her way to the printer that was sat on a shelf by her desk. She picked up several pieces of paper from the tray beneath it and made her way back. She handed out the relevant sheets to us both and I briefly swept my eyes over my timings, jobs and shifts for next two days.
‘Well there’s not a lot of time for sleep.’ I looked at them both and laughed. ‘But as Nan says, “I can sleep when I’m dead.” So, I’m up for it,’ I added as I bent my knees and sank cross legged to the soft cream carpet.
They both sat down with me.
‘We have tonight to chill out and the next two days to show the world what we’re made of,’ Lauren said and lifted her glass of wine towards us both.
I looked at Winter and we lifted ours to join her.
‘All for one,’ she said.
‘And one for all,’ we replied as we gulped large mouthfuls of wine and gave in to some of the apprehensive, hysterical laughter that was beginning to build up.
We must have been bloody mad. Drinking on a school night, when we knew what the next few days held.
Was the first thought to go through my head, on the wave of pain created by the alarm from my phone. It was five a.m. I slapped my hand around on the empty pillow next to me to shut it up.
Finally, I found what I was searching for, pushed the right button with my eyes closed and it stopped. The relief I felt as the noise subsided was immense.
If I was lucky I’d had three hours sleep, tops.
Sharing two large bottles of wine and a double measure of Baileys should have knocked me out for the count, but I had been fuelled with excitement and adrenalin. After our chilled evening, the three of us together had pushed and pulled my case up the stairs to the guest room. With the alcohol we had consumed, we were lucky to have made it at all without breaking our necks. Several times we’d stopped, as our feet had slipped on the metal rungs, or as we were consumed with hysterics at how ridiculous we would look if anyone walked past. It had taken far longer than was normal to get the case up to my room, as all our strength had left us time and time again. But it was moments like these with my best friends, that I wouldn’t miss for the world. By the time I got into the warm, comfortable bed, I had struggled to sleep.
Finally, as fast as I could, I forced myself out of bed to get on with my day. One shower, a bottle of water and two headache tablets later, I made my way downstairs to the tearooms.
I paused on the steps a third of the way down, gripping the cold, black metal and inhaled a deep breath of fresh, crisp air. The world was completely white. Behind the outbuildings, I watched as the tall evergreens moved under the weight of the snow that had fallen. It was like they were shivering with the chill of it. The only sounds that could be heard were the intermittent crack of a branch and the trees occasionally relinquishing their burden to the ground around them. It was magical. I could see no footsteps, or tyre tracks, breaking the perfect covering. It was as if the world had cleansed itself of the whole human race. The world was silent and it was breathtaking. The Manor and surrounding countryside looked like a Christmas card. It was beautiful, and for those few seconds that I stood there I felt selfish, pleased that no one
else could share what I was seeing right at that moment.
I took it all in and committed it to memory. Breathing it in deep and filling my head with the beautiful sight. I knew that the next couple of days were going to be utter bedlam. I could draw on the peaceful feeling the fresh fallen snow gave me, time and time again, and I knew without a doubt it would be needed.
I continued down the steps, hesitantly breaking the snow, feeling it compress, crunch and finally give way under my shoes. I could see that Lauren was already inside the tearooms. They were already lit up with the twinkling, white fairy lights that were strung up high, and looped across every available window, mirror and flat surface that wasn’t used to serve or eat from. The large arched French doors that opened out one side to the Victorian walled garden and the carpark on the other were steamed to three quarters of the way up.
‘Morning!’ I shouted as I pushed the main door open. I stepped briskly inside banging my snow-covered heels on the doormat and then I dropped the latch behind me. I knew it was only me and her this early in the morning. I had taken in that much as I’d let my eyes sweep over the itinerary she had printed out last night.
Gorgeous smells hit my nostrils as I entered. She’d already been busy.
‘In the kitchen,’ Lauren shouted back.
I walked towards her voice, taking off my coat and putting it away in the small staff room as I went. The kitchen was absolutely boiling. I could feel my face break into an involuntary sweat as the heat hit me.
‘Bloody hell, how long have you been here?’ I lifted up my arm to check the ancient watch on my wrist. It was just after half past five. I wasn’t late. I scanned the worktops and cooling racks, they were already heavily laden.
A guilty looking Lauren, with flour all over her face and in her hair, turned to answer me. ‘A while.’ Then she smiled.
‘You haven’t slept at all, have you?’ I questioned, crossing my arms on top of the camel coloured, bobble cardigan I had placed over my white blouse.
She shook her head in response. ‘Once you and Winter left, I sobered up quickly, my brain wouldn’t shut up. The tearooms are completely booked out today from ten a.m. right through until we close. I knew just how much needed to be baked.’ She paused for a moment trying to read my expression as I stood in the doorway shaking my head. ‘So, I came down and got on with it.’ She turned back around to face the worktop in front of her, and once again squeezed the icing bag with just the right amount of pressure. Continuing like the expert she was, she set to decorate the cupcakes set out in front of her.
‘How do you expect to last the next few days on no sleep at all?’
‘Don’t be so dramatic, Amy… I’ll be fine, we’re in our thirties not our seventies,’ she answered, throwing a smile at me over her shoulder.
‘Point taken.’ I shrugged my shoulders at her. ‘Have you had breakfast?’ I asked as I walked further into the furnace-like room.
‘No, not yet. I’ve just got this and one more batch to decorate. Then all the cakes, pastries and deserts will be finished. So, when I leave here in… What’s the time?’ She shook her head, seemingly bewildered by her inability to read the hands on the steamed-up clock face.
‘About twenty to six,’ I replied, still puzzled by her motives for working all night.
‘Ah, okay. So, when I leave here in about three hours everything should be ready for the day ahead.’
‘You can finish decorating the cupcakes, you’re much better at that than me. I’ll cook us breakfast and we can sit down and eat together. Then, you are off upstairs for a rest and a shower before you join Winter over at The Manor.’
‘Well, I…’
I held up my hand to her. ‘Not taking no for an answer.’ I pulled out my schedule for the next few days from my cardigan pocket and I pinned it onto the neat corkboard displaying health and safety posters. ‘Anyway, we’re still waiting on deliveries to complete the sandwiches…and you know as well as I do that freshly made sandwiches are always better than those made earlier.’ I grimaced at her. ‘Nothing worse than an immaculately cut finger sandwich with curled up, dry edges.’ I raised my eyebrows at her.
‘What would I do without you?’ she asked, and I knew she wasn’t questioning my sandwich making knowledge, but my skills at keeping her calm in the emotional crisis that I knew was threatening to consume her.
I could hear the phone literally ringing off the wall in the back office next to the kitchen. God knows where any of the extensions were hiding.
I gently placed down the cake stand I was carrying into the middle of the table of four, not wanting to appear in a rush in front of the customers.
‘Anything else I can get you?’ I asked with a smile. I watched as with mouths full of deliciousness, they all smiled back their answer and shook their heads.
I moved away as quickly as I could through the bustling room.
Opening the door, I flew in as quickly as my feet would take me, just as the phone stopped ringing.
‘Typical!’ I exclaimed, slamming my hand down on the desk.
I heard the answer phone click into action. After hearing Lauren’s welcoming greeting, I heard a voice relay exactly what I didn’t want or need to hear. A message that told me what Lauren’s finely tuned spreadsheets had absolutely no leeway for, a problem. When we hadn’t any available time to allow for contingencies, let alone problems. The message was from the fishmongers and the male voice explained that their delivery van had broken down and they wouldn’t be able to schedule a delivery for the next three days. On the plus side, he would stay open for us to come and pick up our order, if we arrived in the next two hours.
I poked my head around the door and peaked into the tearooms. Everything was going well. All the staff were in and the food had been prepared for the next few hours of bookings.
So, I made the decision.
Winter and Lauren would be well under way now preparing and cooking for tomorrow. They needed the delivery and so did the tearooms. I would go and pick up the salmon for us and the many other things I knew Winter was bound to have ordered for tomorrow’s opening.
I just hoped it would all fit into my small car.
It would just have to, even if I tied it to the roof.
For the first time in a very long time, things felt right with my world. I wasn’t fucking telling the guys that they’d been right about putting down some roots here! Fuck no! I thought, as a shit eating grin spread over my face. I hadn’t known it, but I’d been searching for this comfortable feeling for a long time, who’d have thought I’d find it in the country of my childhood?
My bare forearms were crossed over themselves on top of the steering wheel. I could feel the hard, leather-covered wheel underneath my chest as I leant as far forward as possible. I was staring through my large windscreen, just gazing at the countryside around me. This part of the country was seriously fucking beautiful. Some of the snow that had fallen for most of the night had started to melt in the bright midday sunshine. Other parts of the road hadn’t seen any sun at all, and the snow had turned to ice in the shade. The feeling of contentment had increased as I was out driving around in my brand new Land Rover. I was fucking pleased with the new vehicle. I had several other cars garaged in America that I never drove, but this one meant more than all of them put together. I’d wanted to own a Land Rover Defender since I was a small boy living in the UK.
It brought back happy memories of spending carefree days with my family. Memories that for far too fucking long I had buried deep inside.
Truth be told, I was also driving around just trying to stay away from all the madness and the unrelenting preparations going on at The Manor. I just wanted the place up and running. Falham Manor was going to be the first of many hotels we were about to renovate and open in the UK and Europe. It was our “getting older and for various reasons wanting to put down some roots” plan. A plan that after what felt like a million fucking years on the road, we all desperately needed. The Manor,
as the locals called it, was going to be our home base here, our template, our flagship. So, rightly or wrongly, although we had a fantastic management team in place, we were more involved with this one than we would be with any of the other renovations we had planned. Eventually, I even hoped to build myself a home, hidden somewhere in the acres of grounds that had come with the place.
Raff’s sister had been given the contract for the opening event, it would give her small catering business the injection of cash it needed. After fucking years in the world of the cut throat music business, we looked after the few members of family and friends we had, before all others.
Yesterday, we had all been called in to attend a last-minute meeting. Winter had told us that three chefs had gone sick with some goddamn awful sickness bug. She had also done a fantastic job of convincing us that she had already sorted the problem out and guaranteed that nothing we had planned for the opening would be compromised. She reminded me a hell of a lot of her brother, Raff. He was always in charge of us, always the grown-up when through the years we had needed him to sort through some serious fucking shit. Only thing was, he hadn’t been too receptive to her emergency plan and who she had called in to help her. I knew exactly why.
I was happy to leave it to the people we were paying to get on with it, and not to get too involved. In fact, I had only just about managed to attend the meeting, in between my many goddamn visits to the nearby village of Falham.
I squeezed my eyes shut quickly, trying to remove her from my head. It was fucking useless. An image of her had taken root, like writing a song consumed me. I still couldn’t get her out of my head, even now. It was another reason for me driving around. Everything about her I had committed to memory. Her eyes, the way her rich brown hair shone as it curled around her shoulders. The woman inspired me. I remembered the way she had reacted to me, and I had gone over and over the few words we had spoken. Even though I knew she thought she had embarrassed herself in front of me, she couldn’t have been more wrong. I could hear the slight amusement in her voice at our back and forth banter. If I was honest with myself, I had enjoyed the few minutes I had spent with her yesterday more than anything I could vaguely recall. She intrigued me so much that I had wanted to go back to the little shop again today just to check that she hadn’t returned and opened it up.
Brody (Default Distraction Book 1) Page 4
