Some Kind of Wonderful

by Giovanna Fletcher

  ‘You are funny,’ Jodie smiles, placing her hand on my shoulder. ‘When you’re a kid you don’t worry so much. I didn’t, anyway. I didn’t care what people thought but I knew how good singing made me feel. Singing is entertainment, it’s also an emotional outlet for whatever you have gurgling away inside.’

  ‘Do you think I’m overthinking it?’

  ‘I don’t know what’s going on in your head, but in the last few months you’ve overcome far worse than a community choir,’ she says, raising her eyebrows at me and pursing her lips. ‘I can’t force you to be in this group, and really don’t want you to be here if you feel uncomfortable.’

  ‘Are you kicking me out?’

  ‘No! I’m trying to make you see that everyone out there is on your side.’

  ‘Sorry, I’m being a twat,’ I say, sighing at the stupidity of me sobbing in the loo of my local church.

  ‘No, you’re not, but please remember that it’s just singing,’ she says, gently rubbing my shoulder and smiling at me in the mirror. ‘I’m going to go back in for the rest of the rehearsal, but take your time and come out when you’re ready to have another bash at it.’

  ‘Thank you,’ I say.

  I still feel foolish as she walks out of the door, but at least I feel less alone. Perhaps I wasn’t as bad as I thought I was. Or maybe it actually doesn’t matter as long as I’m enjoying it.

  I take a few deep breaths and wait for my face to appear less blotchy. When I’m finally convinced that people won’t notice I’ve been having an emotional meltdown in the toilets, I rejoin the group who are now putting down their paper cups and getting back into their previous positions, ready to go again.

  I catch Albie’s eye as I pick up my sheet music. He winks. I smile. It’s enough.

  ‘The next song we’ve not done for a few months because we sang it to death at the start of last year, but I know you all love it and so will our audience,’ Jodie says, passing a new set of music to a woman at the end of the row to pass around.

  I laugh when I see the chosen song.

  ‘Fix You’.

  It’s time to pretend I’m in my shower.

  31

  As I have no job or commitments to tie me down, I offer to meet Natalia in town. This is obviously the right thing to do, as she’s hopefully going to be offering me a job. In a further attempt to impress her I’ve been through my wardrobe millions of times, trying to figure out what to wear. Aside from the items I bought for New Year’s Eve, everything in there is still black – a further reminder that I need to go to the flat and sort out my clothes – but I’ve not been able to work up the courage to go back there yet. The thought alone causes me to grimace. So I’ve put on my best black jeans, black cable-knit woolly jumper and black ankle boots. To liven it all up I’ve pinched a leopard-print coat from Michelle along with a light-brown cashmere scarf.

  I might look the part but I’m nervous, because I know this meeting isn’t going to be as straightforward as I would’ve hoped. Having read through Natalia’s email I initially squealed with delight because it’s clear she really does need someone to work alongside her. My heart skipped at the thought of it being me in that role, but then something started niggling away at me and I’ve not been able to shake it off since. Those thoughts are still very much present when I walk through the front door of Soho House’s private members’ club in Dean Street and am faced with three girls staring at me from behind a large podium of a desk.

  ‘Hello, can we help?’ one of them asks, flicking her luscious blonde hair over her shoulder. The fact they don’t mistake me for one of their members confirms my suspicion that I stick out like a sore thumb.

  I nervously mumble something incomprehensible in reply.

  ‘Pardon?’ she asks, her high-pitched voice piercingly jarring as she leans in.

  ‘I’m Lizzy Richardson,’ I say, swallowing hard, not sure why I’m so nervous.

  ‘Here to see …?’ she prods while I gaze gormlessly at her.

  ‘Natalia Wood!’ I practically shout.

  ‘Great,’ she chimes, plastering a forced smile across her face. ‘Please sign in,’ she asks, handing over a pen while sliding a big black folder in my direction.

  Putting pen to paper I start writing.

  ‘Wait,’ I apologize nervously. ‘That’s not my name. I put Natalia, that’s the person I’m seeing, not me. I’m Lizzy.’

  The three girls look at me suspiciously. Now they definitely know I’m a novice in these parts. Girl One places her hands back on the folder and swivels it around so they can all inspect my error.

  ‘Up these stairs, room on the left,’ Girl One says without even looking up from the mess I’ve made.

  I scuttle up the grand wooden staircase quick enough to ensure they can’t change their minds. I’m in. Even though I feel like I don’t quite belong here, I feel a thrill at being allowed in to this exclusive London club. It’s literally like a house, albeit the home of a billionaire who can afford this huge building in the heart of Soho. At the top of the stairs I ignore what looks like the main room in front of me, which I note has been painted a vibrant rust and filled with gorgeous leather and heavily textured armchairs and sofas, and turn to my left to find somewhere even more pleasing on the eye. Mustard-coloured walls, elegant and simple 70s-inspired wooden furniture and a green floral-patterned sofa of dreams, which I instantly know to be a William Morris creation. If I could freeze time and live here, I would.

  I spot Natalia sitting in a comfy armchair, her perfectly manicured fingers frantically scribbling into a notepad as she waits for me. I feel unusually nauseous, so take a deep breath and step towards her.

  ‘You’re really early! I mean, I aimed for early, but you basically opted for the day before,’ I nervously ramble, placing my hand on her shoulder.

  She turns to me and laughs while getting to her feet, opening her arms for a hug. She looks divine in a spectacular orange knitted midi dress, which accentuates her petite yet curvy frame. I’d look like a sack of potatoes in it; despite going on a few runs I’ve not curbed my heartbreak-and-Christmas diet of shoving all food within eyesight straight into my gob.

  ‘I finished at Selfridges a little while ago and had some work to be getting on with,’ she explains, looking around the swanky room at the other guests who are chatting away in little clustered groups of twos, threes and fours. ‘It’s just a blessing mobiles are banned in here. It gives me a good excuse to go off radar for an hour or two.’

  Following her gaze, I think I recognize someone from a huge British girl band, but I can’t be sure and it’d be super uncool of me to look at her for any longer than I already have. Even though there’s no chance I’d ever go over and talk to her, just knowing we’re in the same place gives me a sense of pride and excitement for the future. I wouldn’t see her in McDonald’s in Chelmsford, or grabbing a quick bucket of deep fried chicken. Times are changing.

  ‘How have you been?’ Natalia asks, sitting back down and gesturing at the armchair next to her. ‘Come, take a seat.’

  I start to do as she says and notice the atmosphere between us is unfamiliar. The last time I saw her was New Year’s Day and we were both leaving Alastair’s flat. I looked a state – like I’d had my first night out in a long time and had certainly made the most of it. Which I had. There was no way I could prise my feet back into my heels so I’d pulled out the flats I’d cleverly stowed away in my bag (after managing to resist them the whole night). I was still hobbling thanks to a few numb toes, my hair looked like a bird’s nest, my make-up had melted off and my clothes had pizza and Archer’s stains down them. Natalia, on the other hand, had looked radiant – as though she’d spent the evening skipping through calming meadows of wild flowers, surrounded by magical unicorns. We may have been completely shattered, but we were experiencing the buzz that delirious exhaustion from a night out provides. Now there’s an air of professionalism in the way Natalia holds herself. Her back is a little straighter, and h
er shoulders are pinned back an inch further. She still seems as lovely as ever, but there’s something authoritative about her now. She’s in boss mode, which I can’t help but find intimidating.

  ‘Can I get you a drink, Ma’am?’ a waitress asks as soon as my bum has found the seat.

  ‘Tea, please. English breakfast,’ I clarify, knowing they probably serve a whole host of loose, exotic posh types and I won’t know how to work the strainer. I just want the normal one. Nothing fancy.

  The waitress smiles knowingly and leaves.

  ‘Forgive me for diving in,’ Natalia pre-warns, adjusting her position on the chair and rearranging the fabric of her dress before looking up at me with great expectancy. ‘What did you make of my proposal?’

  ‘Ha! Do you know how long I spent waiting for one of those?’ I ask, laughing at her choice of words.

  It takes a second or two, but eventually Natalia understands what she’s said and laughs too, the atmosphere instantly becoming more relaxed. She chuckles into her coffee while keeping her eyes on me.

  ‘I read it and I loved it,’ I admit. ‘It’s exactly what I want to be doing.’

  ‘Amazing,’ Natalia beams, the palm of her hand excitedly tapping on the table between us. ‘So when do you want to start?’

  ‘I’ve got the job?’ I ask slowly, absorbing the moment that sits heavily on my heart.

  ‘Of course,’ Natalia grins. ‘I said as much the other night.’

  ‘I still didn’t think you meant it though …’

  Finding her enthusiasm infectious, I can’t help smiling back at her, but realize I’m about to make the right decision for me, and that’s not necessarily going to be the right one for her.

  As Michelle has instructed, I have to stop being the sap.

  I take a deep breath and twiddle with my fingers, then look up at the woman whose work I truly admire, knowing I’m potentially about to disappoint her. ‘Natalia, you know I’d love to work for you. I would literally have begged for a job with you if you hadn’t asked me first. In fact, I think I practically did anyway,’ I laugh, thinking back to our chat in the club on New Year’s Eve.

  ‘That’s good to know,’ she replies, putting down the coffee cup before running her hands along her thighs and cupping both her knees.

  ‘And I really do want to work for you,’ I say, placing my hand on my heart to highlight my sincerity. I have to show her how serious I am about that before I can tell her what else is on my mind. ‘Really, truly, I couldn’t think of anyone I’d rather work with – your passion and dedication are so clear and I admire all you do.’

  ‘Why do I feel like there’s a but coming on?’ she asks, looking curious rather than deflated, interested rather than angry.

  ‘Because there is,’ I say, letting the realization settle.

  Her surprised expression mirrors my own.

  ‘A couple of months ago my life took an unexpected turn into a dead end,’ I say, repeating the words I’d found myself nervously putting together on the train on the way here. ‘Ever since then I’ve been on this massive journey to reverse myself out of that crappy spot and find out who I am, or who I was meant to be if my ex and I hadn’t joined forces and moulded into one entity. I’ve been looking at clues and second-guessing everything, but really I just need to give myself time to take opportunities now that I’ve only got myself to think about. I’ve not had that in ten years,’ I exclaim, pausing as my tea is brought out and arranged in front of me at a snail’s pace. Neither of us fills the gap in the conversation. As soon as the waitress is gone I continue. ‘Even this, sitting here with you and having your incredible offer of a job, would’ve been carefully discussed and considered by me and Ian. We’d have had to think about how the change would affect us as a couple and the life we shared. We’d have had to contemplate moving somewhere between our two jobs, or I’d have had to plan the commute from our existing flat and see whether it was something I could handle. I’d have had to make sure Ian understood that working for such an acclaimed company would mean him getting less of my time. I’d have had to preempt what that might mean for us and whether it would cause any problems.’

  ‘Well, I’m glad we didn’t meet before you broke up then,’ Natalia cuts in, looking bewildered.

  ‘That’s relationships, though,’ I shrug.

  ‘Putting someone else first? Maybe that’s why I’ve been single for so long,’ she suggests with a slight pout.

  ‘Or why you’re such a success! I have to say, on reflection, I think I put his needs before my own too much. It should’ve been far more equal than it was,’ I admit. ‘But we aren’t here to talk about my ex.’

  ‘We aren’t,’ she agrees, bowing her head and willing me to continue – or probably get to the point a little quicker. After all, she has a million places to be right now, I’m sure.

  ‘I know I want to work for you. I know how much I would absolutely love being a part of your team and getting my teeth stuck into some of your projects,’ I say, stopping and taking a deep breath. ‘That said, I need to get away and take some time for me that isn’t spent living at my mum’s in my childhood bedroom. I need to go away and explore. There are places I’ve always wanted to see and I need to do it now before committing myself to another chapter in my life. I need to be selfish and make things just about me for a while. I know you gave me the nudge to do it, but leaving Home Comforts seems to have given me the perfect time to stop and think about the things I need to do for me before I can continue giving so much of myself over to others.’

  ‘So where do you want to go and for how long?’ she asks, her face not giving away how she’s feeling about my plans.

  ‘I’ve always wanted to go to Thailand. I thought I’d visit Bangkok and then do some island-hopping before working my way down to Malaysia, Indonesia and then taking a bit of a tour of Australia and New Zealand.’

  Natalia’s jaw drops, causing my heart to sink. ‘That’s quite a trip.’

  ‘I’d like to do what I can within three months,’ I gulp.

  Natalia purses her lips and looks down at the grey-carpeted floor between our feet. A small frown line has found its way on to her forehead as she contemplates what I’ve said.

  I hold my breath in suspense, wondering how she’s going to reply. I thought about emailing her with all of this as I knew I’d be able to write it more eloquently than I could verbalize it, but I reasoned that words on a screen could be taken in the wrong way. She might think I was saying a polite ‘thanks, but no thanks’ to the job offer, and I didn’t want that to happen.

  Natalia looks up at me and starts nodding. ‘I couldn’t be more supportive of what you’re planning if I tried,’ she shrugs, a smile creeping across her lips.

  ‘Really?’

  ‘Absolutely. I agree with you. Now is the time for you to do this. If it wasn’t my company, or if you were Connie, say, I’d be actively encouraging you to take that time. As your friend, and boss,’ she says, lingering on the word with a sparkle in her eye. ‘I’m someone who wants the best for you. I think I’d be a fool to do otherwise because it’s only when you feel fulfilled and happy that you’ll be able to give me your focus and dedication to ensure you’re producing your best work. I have my heart set on you purely from how you spoke about what we do when we first met. It was so impassioned and heartfelt. Plus, you had no idea what I do. Usually people find that out and try to impress me with their knowledge of designers or materials, but it means nothing. It’s vacuous knowledge with no soul or thought.’ She pauses and squints at me, her shoulders rising and falling as she lets out a sigh. ‘I think you’re worth the wait.’

  ‘Thank you,’ I say, feeling a weight lift from my shoulders, making me realize how much this chat was hanging over me. If she’d told me there was no way I’d have a job when I got back then I’d probably have fallen straight back into being a people-pleaser and told her I’d stay put. Now any trepidation I feel is targeted towards the actual trip and getting everythin
g organized.

  ‘I think it’s a very brave move,’ praises Natalia.

  ‘I’m not sure about that. Part of me wonders if I’m being completely idiotic. I’m not exactly eighteen years old and on my gap year before I start taking life more seriously. I should have it all figured out by now.’

  ‘Well, don’t listen to that part!’ Natalia giggles. ‘It sounds like you have a firm understanding of what you want, and that’s brilliant.’

  ‘I’m not sure I do,’ I say, batting away her compliment. ‘Doing a bit of exploring is something that’s been niggling away at my brain but I haven’t wanted to focus on it. I didn’t want to feel like I was meekly running away from my problems,’ I say, knowing the main reason I didn’t give it any real consideration when I was sitting in my room writing lists on my past self versus my present self was because it felt too much of a cliché. The wait has made me take the leap purely for my own desire to see more of the world with nothing to tie me down. I really do feel it’s now or never – or at least not for a very long time.

  ‘I’m sure people would understand if you did,’ she reasons.

  ‘Running away wouldn’t have solved anything though, would it?’ I say, deciding to finally pour the tea that’s been stewing since the waitress left. I add a splash of milk and a spoonful of sugar before taking a sip, watching as the pop star from earlier saunters past, presumably going to the loo. A trail of her exquisite perfume wafting over us, floral, fresh and sweet, with undertones of vanilla. It’s a far deeper scent than anything I’d be able to find on the high street. It literally screams ‘I’m famous!’

  I glimpse at Natalia and find that she’s clocked her too.

  ‘Is she …?’ I whisper, leaning in conspiratorially and making sure she’s completely out of earshot. I’m pretty sure she is who I’m thinking of. She’s been all over the Mail Online lately though due to her breaking up with a huge boyband member.