Anna fought every urge in her body to scream out loud. She wouldn't allow herself to crack in front of Christine. No way would she give Cruella the satisfaction. ‘And your point in coming all this way to show me?’
‘Just thought you might be interested, that’s all.’
‘So had enough of messing around with my brother and moved on to Tex now, have you? Huh!’ retorted Anna, trying to stop her voice from breaking. Tex and Christine! She could barely believe it.
‘Oh please! Me and your brother? He was far too under the thumb to be any fun.’
‘More like prefers his wife to you.’ Childish comment, yes, but Anna felt better for saying it.
Christine’s mouth twisted into something resembling a smile. ‘Enjoy the paper.’ Then turning on her heel, she swaggered back down the path.
Anna spread the newspaper out on the coffee table and, kneeling on the floor, made herself methodically and carefully read the whole article, looking for any clue, any reference as to what Christine was doing in the shot.
The article never mentioned her. Not once. It gave some background to Tex's early career, where he was from, together with details of his restaurant in Guildford. But nothing about Christine. Anna studied the photograph. Tex definitely had his arm around Christine's waist.
The familiar pain of a knife being twisted in her heart and the feeling of sadness in the pit of her stomach began to erupt. Here she was, still grieving for him, still missing him, still wanting him, and there he was happy, smiling, hooked up with someone else. He had got over her, already moving on to a new woman. She must have meant nothing to him.
Anna could feel her heart pounding, a new emotion rising within her. A fierce burning anger that was raging through every part of her body. Tex had well and truly reeled her in, hook, line and sinker. All his comments and condemnation of Mark's behaviour, only to be just like him. Angry and hurt, she screwed up the newspaper.
‘You're a fraud, Tex Garcia. A fraud!’ she shouted at the crumpled paper. ‘A liar! Just like Mark. Do you hear me?’
Of course he couldn’t hear her. God, if he were here now she’d give him a piece of her mind. She paused. Everyone was always telling her to stand up for herself, not to let people walk all over her. Well, maybe just this time she would speak up. Nice Anna, who always tried to smooth things over, avoided confrontation – what a loser she turned out to be. Lost her husband. Lost her boyfriend. About to lose her home. Maybe she just would give Tex what for!
Chapter Thirty
Funny how it seemed such a good idea at the time, when her hurt and anger were at their peak. Anna had already driven by Tex's apartment, but when she saw his car wasn't there, now found herself standing outside the new restaurant, hand paused in mid-air as she re-evaluated her wisdom. She dropped her hand to her side. She had been so incensed, not to mention upset, by Christine's visit, Anna had just grabbed her bag and car keys and driven straight over to Arundel. She didn't even remember much of the journey. She had obviously negotiated the A27 between Chichester and Arundel successfully, but her mind had been on Tex and not her driving.
In her blind fury, she hadn't even stopped to consider the timing of her appearance. The restaurant wasn't due to open for another hour, although the main doors to the entrance foyer were open. Through the inner glass doors she could see waiting staff busying themselves in anticipation of the evening service.
Now that her initial rage had subsided to a simmering wrath, she wondered whether she could actually go through with this. Perhaps she should just leave it. Tex had moved on, and she should accept it.
Anna took the creased sheet of newspaper from her bag and looked at the picture of Tex and Christine. It did the trick, fanning the flames of anger that were smouldering in her stomach, breathing new life into it. Stuffing the article back into her bag, she rapped on the glass before she had time to change her mind again. She noticed a waitress make eye contact with her and then gesture to the maître d'. She knocked on the glass again so he was in no doubt that she wanted him to come over.
The maître d' opened the door slightly, just enough so his frame filled the gap, and just enough so that Anna could not mistake it as an invitation into the restaurant.
‘I'm afraid we're closed,’ he said apologetically. ‘Is there something I can help you with?’
‘Yes. I would like to speak with Mr Garcia please.’
‘Do you have an appointment?’
‘No. Look, I know he's here because his car is parked out the front. I really do need to speak to him.’
‘Is there something I could help you with?’
‘No.’
‘Perhaps I could take your name and any message,’ suggested the maître d' patiently.
Anna let out a big sigh, give him his due, he was doing his best to protect his boss.
‘I really must speak to Mr Garcia, in person, now. Could you ask him to come here? Please?’ Anna was unyielding, feeling more and more impatient. She hoisted the straps of her bag up her shoulder and drummed the bag with her fingertips, remembering the newspaper tucked inside it.
‘Madam … ’
Anna didn't let him speak, instead standing on tiptoe, she shouted over the man's shoulder. ‘Tex! Tex Garcia! I know you're there. Come here. I want to speak to you!’ She stuck her foot in the way of the closing door. She wasn't leaving without a fight.
‘Madam, please move your foot. If you don't leave I will have to call the police.’
‘Just get Mr Garcia then. Tex!’
The waiting staff had ground to a halt, watching the scene unfold in front of them, exchanging uncertain looks, while Anna shouted like a termagant. ‘Tex!’
Taking the man behind the door by surprise, Anna gave it a sudden push. In an instant she found herself being propelled into the restaurant, stumbling slightly before regaining her balance. She took a moment to straighten herself up, adjust her cardigan and brush imaginary dust from her trousers. Anna looked round the restaurant, aware that every member of staff had stopped to watch her.
The door to the back room opened suddenly and out walked Tex, flanked by two other chefs, a frown on his face. He looked slightly startled to see Anna there but quickly regained his composure. He muttered something to the two shotgun riders and both disappeared back into the kitchen. The maître d' scurried past her, a worried look on his face.
‘Chef, I am so sorry. I tried to stop her but … ’
Tex held up his hand. ‘It's okay, Stefan. Don't worry.’ Stefan gave Anna an uncertain look. ‘Thank you, Stefan,’ said Tex before flicking an enquiring look towards the rest of his staff. Immediately, everyone returned to their work. When he finally turned his attention to Anna, she was sure she saw a flicker of amusement cross his face. Now though, he looked impassively across the restaurant floor at her.
Anna shifted her weight uneasily from one foot to another.
He spoke first. ‘So?’
Anna looked uncomfortably around the restaurant.
Tex spoke again. ‘I assume you came here for a reason. Shall we go into the office?’ His voice was calm and indifferent.
Anna followed him back through to the office.
Entering first, Tex held the door open for Anna, stepping aside so she could walk in. She stood self-consciously in the centre of the room, a desk in front of her and a couple of filing cabinets behind. Tex shut the door and walked over, perching on the edge of the desk, arms folded.
‘So what is so important that you have to force your way in to the building, shouting so loud that you could be heard whether I was in Arundel or Guildford?’
Anna recalled her rehearsed speech. Now how was she going to start? Oh yeah, that was it.
‘Out of all the people I've ever known, I would have said that you were one of the most honest, considerate and genuine.’ Anna took a breath; this had sounded much better in her head than it did now, out loud. Tex's face was still impassive. She carried on. ‘I don't know how I got it so wrong. I m
ust be a terrible judge of character. Of men. You even get other people to do your dirty work.’
‘And what is this dirty work?’ asked Tex.
‘Hiding behind your maître d' for a start,’ bristled Anna. ‘But worst of all, sending Christine to see me.’
‘Christine?’
‘Don't pretend you don't know what I'm talking about.’
Tex gave a little laugh. ‘But I don't.’
Anna snatched the newspaper cutting from her bag and slapped it down onto the desk before retreating a few steps back to the middle of the room.
‘You could at least have told me yourself instead of letting her do it.’ Anna took deep breaths as the anger and hurt reared up again.
Tex picked up the cutting, looked at it, turned it over and then back again. He looked blankly at Anna. ‘I am sorry but I don’t understand. Why this? I haven't sent anyone to see you. Why would I?’
Anna flounced her arms against her sides in frustration and exhaled theatrically. Did she have to spell it out? Obviously!
‘I believed you Tex. I believed that you actually cared about me. I believed you were different.’ Anna had to stop, her voice was cracking. How could she feel so angry and yet so sad at the same time? She felt swamped by a whole range of conflicting emotions.
‘You were right to believe me,’ said Tex, standing up. He took a step towards her. Anna matched it with a step backwards.
‘No I wasn't,’ she snapped. ‘If you meant what you said, how come you moved on so quickly to your next conquest?’ She gestured towards the cutting in his hand.
‘Conquest? Christine?’ His voice was incredulous.
‘Yes!’ Anna was aware her voice was high-pitched as it fought for space in her dry, closing throat. She swallowed hard. ‘Yes. You didn't waste any time getting with Christine. As if that wasn't bad enough, you didn't even have the balls to tell me yourself. You let her do that.’
‘Do you honestly think that?’ demanded Tex, his eyes fixing on her.
‘You haven't denied it,’ challenged Anna, sticking out her chin defiantly.
‘Why should I? You seem to have got it all worked out in your head.’
‘I thought I could trust you. You never really cared about me. You got what you wanted and then moved on. You're really no different to Mark.’ Anna turned to leave but Tex reached the door first, holding his hand against it.
‘You are not going anywhere. You can't come here shouting about how you've been hurt, accusing me of not caring about you, telling me I am like him, and then think you can just walk away.’ Tex was struggling to keep his voice calm but Anna could hear the anger bubbling under his words. ‘I cannot believe you think I would behave in that way. Of course I wouldn’t send Christine to tell you something like that.’
‘Tell me yourself then. Tell me now about you and Christine.’ If he said it, she could leave. She had made her point.
‘There is nothing to tell.’
‘Bullshit. I've been here before with Mark. Don't think I'm going to go through it all again with you.’
‘I did everything I could to reassure you, to make you trust me. I wanted you to realise that not all men were like him. I was different. I am different. I was with you because I wanted to be, because you made me happier than I had ever been. And now you throw it all back at me. It meant nothing to you.’
Tex closed his eyes and banged the back of his head against the door. When he spoke again, it was calmer and quieter but the anger was still there. ‘Tell me Anna, when Christine came to see you, how did it make you feel? The thought of me and Christine together. What did you feel? Hurt?’
Anna nodded. ‘Yes.’
‘Sad? No wait, sad isn't the right word. Err … devastated?’
‘Mmm.’ Anna nodded again, not sure where this was going.
‘Rejected? Confused? Angry?’
‘Yes, all of those things.’
‘You felt the same as me. That is how I felt when you chose him over me. That night at your house, when you wouldn’t come with me, well, I’m sorry I just don’t get it. You tell me to leave. Me, who has shown you nothing but love. Then you come here and tell me you were only a conquest to me. That I used you. Unbelievable! It’s me who has been used by you. Used just to make him jealous so you could get back together.’
‘No! No! That's not true.’
‘What am I supposed to think? You won’t even divorce him. I have made it all so easy for you.’
His eyes felt like laser beams, burning into her own. She looked down at her feet, unable to bear the look of anger in his face. Anger directed at her.
‘This was a mistake. I shouldn't have come,’ she muttered.
‘At least we agree on one thing.’ His words stung like acid. He opened the door and walked out, leaving her standing there alone in the middle of the room.
For a moment Anna wasn't sure if she could trust her legs to carry her safely out of the building. Everything had gone horribly wrong. She had been so furious and hurt by Christine's visit, her response was a knee-jerk reaction that had desperation written all over it. She suspected she had used her anger as an excuse to see Tex, but what had she expected? Tex to say it was all a misunderstanding, he wasn't with Christine. That he would wait until Mark had gone. That he understood and everything would be all right. Is that what she had secretly hoped would happen?
Truthfully?
Yes. She probably had.
As it happened, he had turned on her, telling her how she had hurt him and used him. What a mess she had made of it all. She needed to get out of here.
Through the open door, she could see Tex chopping vegetables, fast and furiously, sending the knife up and down in swift, small, precise movements. He stopped and looked up at her. Oh the contempt in his eyes, he really hated her.
She was shaking by the time she reached her car and feeling light-headed. She wasn’t sure she was in a fit state to drive. She couldn't stay here though. Anna wandered up the road with no real plan as to what she was doing, and eventually found herself walking into the Kings Head pub just along from Tex's restaurant. It wasn't too busy, just several suited men and women, probably taking an end of week drink, looking relaxed, laughing at something one of them had just said, sipping their wines and lagers, de-mob happy with that Friday feeling.
Anna sat in the corner with her white wine. She took a large gulp. Perhaps the wine would help to dull the pain. She felt slightly self-conscious sitting in a pub on her own, drinking. She'd just have this one and then head off home. There was no point hanging around. Tex would be busy with evening service now, and even if he wasn't, what was there left to say? They had said it all.
‘Drinking alone on a Friday, that's never a good sign,’ a slightly familiar voice said.
Anna looked up. Great! Handy Andy – just what she needed. He put a glass of wine on the table and sat down next to her.
‘Hello, Anna. I would ask how you are, but seeing as you look thoroughly miserable there's probably no point.’ He smiled and pushed the fresh glass of wine towards her. ‘Cheers.’
‘No, I'm okay, thanks,’ said Anna, pushing the glass back his way and noticing the sling and plaster cast on his arm. ‘What have you done to yourself?’
‘Fell down some stairs. Anyway, the drink’s a peace offering.’ Andy smiled and pushed the wine glass back to her.
‘Peace offering?’ she eyed him suspiciously.
‘Yeah. Look, about that business with me and you at that promotional evening.’
‘What about it?’
‘I was … well … you know…’
‘Out of order?’ she prompted.
‘Yeah, out of order. It was wrong of me. I'm sorry.’ He held out his hand. ‘No hard feelings?’
Anna studied his face for a moment, uncertain whether that was a sincere apology or not, but realised it was probably the only one she was going to get. Oh, what the hell. Let bygones be bygones and all that. She shook his hand. ‘Sure, no hard feeli
ngs.’
‘Excellent, now drink up. And you can tell me all your problems if you like. Or if you prefer we can just get wasted.’ Andy took a long slug of his pint, as if to show he meant business.
‘Cheers,’ echoed Anna, picking up her glass.
Pouring her troubles out to Andy wasn’t appealing; however, getting wasted was an option she hadn’t previously considered. She took a second, larger mouthful of wine. Suddenly the idea of going home to an empty house wasn’t so attractive. She’d only end up dwelling on Tex and Christine. Misery. No, she’d stay here, have another drink, relax and forget about the whole sorry mess.
Chapter Thirty One
Tex looked up from the soup he was tasting.
‘A little more salt, Patrick,’ he said to his sous-chef. He turned his attention to the kitchen porter who had just come through the door. ‘So?’ he asked Gareth.
‘She went into the Kings Head and sat down with a drink,’ puffed Gareth, his face red from running back down the road.
Tex nodded thoughtfully, rubbing his chin with his hand. ‘You gotta phone?’ Gareth nodded. ‘Go and get it. Quickly.’
‘Chef.’ Gareth looked bemused, but the eighteen-year-old was in no position to question his boss and scurried off to the staff room to fetch his phone from the locker.
‘Right, this is my number,’ said Tex when Gareth returned. ‘Now, I want you to go back to the pub, buy yourself a drink and just sit in the corner keeping an eye on her for me. If she looks like she is leaving, phone me straight away. Understand? Good.’ Tex pushed a ten pound note into Gareth's hand and whipped off the small black cap perched on the lad's head. ‘Take your apron off, put a jacket on and go back now. Okay?’
‘Yes, Chef.’
‘Everything all right, Chef?’ asked Stefan, coming into the kitchen, an alarmed look on his face.
‘Yes, fine. I think. Gareth is just doing a little job for me. Once service is under way, I have to go out. Patrick will be in charge of the kitchen, and Daniel is on his way in to make up the numbers. So nothing for front of house to worry about.’ Tex smiled, and patting Stefan reassuringly on the back, walked him out to the restaurant area.
The Little Shop of Afternoon Delights Page 90
