Since You've Been Gone

by Anouska Knight

  “Well, just encourage him to get a move on, Holly. A man’s place is with his wife. She needs him.”

  I stood waiting for her to finish her point, to finish educating me on all the ways a woman needed her husband. I felt the colour draining from my face, edging nearer and nearer that grey tone Rob’s skin had been before he’d handed me the receiver. It was so good to feel all that Minorcan sunshine, right down the phone line.

  Mum was saying something about not giving the baby too much attention, when salvation walked in through the door.

  “I’ve gotta go, Ma—customers. ’Bye.” I clicked her off before she had time to argue.

  The wide set of the shop door gave just enough room to allow the couple to walk through it near enough side by side. “Hi!” we all said in synchrony. Yay, friendly customers. They had the power of at least five lattes, and engaged couples who came in without a pernickety mother were usually the sunniest of the lot.

  Both dressed like a pair of Ralph Lauren models, he with darker features than Jesse and her a very cute befreckled redhead. I was instantly taken with how perfect they looked together.

  The cute redhead went first.

  “Hi, we’re looking to speak with the person dealing with Mr Argyll’s commission?”

  If there was a moment this week where the sound of a needle scratching gratingly across a record was to feature, this was it.

  Her smile was going nowhere so I held mine, too.

  “Jesse!” I yelled sharply. She jumped a little. I reiterated the smile as compensation.

  Jesse poked his head out into the shop. “Yeah?”

  “Somebody here to speak to you about the Hollywood cake.”

  “Actually, it’s not so much about the cake itself... Well, it is. Hi, my name’s Nat and this is Ryan,” she said, offering hands to be shaken. Ryan followed suit. “We work for a company called Cinder Events and will be overseeing things at the Gold Rooms this weekend. Mr Argyll is one of our most valued clients, and when he mentioned that Cake was providing, well, the cake, we thought we’d better come see what you guys were all about.”

  A tension pulled in my stomach. I was definitely coming down with something.

  “He wasn’t exaggerating, either. These are impressive. How come we haven’t heard about you?” Ryan asked, wandering along the displays.

  Jesse looked at me to take the helm.

  “We don’t really advertise, outside of wedding fairs,” I said.

  “Wedding fairs? You guys need to get yourselves on the events circuit. Our clients would go berserk for something like this.”

  Ryan was a nose away from the tallest cake on display, a six-foot-high chocolate masterpiece Jesse and I had created for this year’s fairs. Detailed water nymphs interspersed with insects and toadstools, all sculpted by hand in rich dark chocolate.

  “And that’s the reason for our visit,” added Nat enthusiastically. “Saturday’s event is going to be very special, attended by a broad mix of society types. We can’t wait to see your finished creation for Mr Argyll! But another of our clients will also be there, and we just so happen to know that there’s an engagement in the pipeline.”

  “Sorry—how does this relate to us?” I asked.

  “Well, when Ms Delgado and Mr Benini formally announce their engagement, we’ll be managing the ensuing parties. They’ve already booked events in their native Spain and Italy, but as Modesto is signed to play for an English team and Aleta’s new film will premiere in London in the spring, they’re both keen to celebrate their union in the UK also. We’re looking for a cake supplier, someone who can provide a centrepiece that stands alone from the average, and I have to say I think we’ve found one,” Nat said, joining Ryan at the displays.

  Jesse turned to me and raised enthused eyebrows.

  “Wow,” I acknowledged, “that’s fantastic. Thank you so much!”

  Wow, wow, wow! It really was fantastic. This could be the job! That one commission that could see us catapulted into a new realm of work! Another thought piggybacked the first.

  Crap.

  Somewhere along the line, I had Ciaran Argyll to thank for it.

  “Well, it’s not in the bag yet,” Ryan added. “Aleta’s quite fussy about who she uses. She’ll have to meet you first. As Nat said, she’ll be attending this Saturday’s event, and so as you guys are both going to be there it would be a great opportunity for us all to touch base. If you’re interested?”

  Ryan laid two very simple-looking black cards on the counter and slid them over towards me. I lifted one up, inspecting the gold italics on the reverse. Guest it read, nothing more.

  “If we’re interested?” Jesse asked, eyes growing wider. Ms Delgado, and invites to the Gold Rooms. Jess was having a good day. “We are interested, aren’t we, Hol? Please say that we’re interested.”

  “I have to point out that there is a strict dress code, either formal evening wear or Hollywood hero or villain... If you do stay at the event after you’ve set up for Mr Argyll, you would have to adhere to that.”

  “Hol? We are interested, right?” Jesse prompted.

  A shuddering breath, the kind that slips out after crying, pulled all eyes on me. Maybe, if I were lucky, Ciaran would be necking with some leggy lovely all night, too busy to be thanked. If I were lucky.

  I looked at the simple invitation, still sat in my hand.

  “Yes, Jesse. We’re interested.”

  chapter 13

  Jesse really wanted the Delgado commission. It was bittersweet for him, the chance to meet the girl of his dreams, in the company of her international-football-star fiancé. Jesse had been working on the cake all week, and I knew it would blow everyone away. But I also had a sneaky suspicion that if Jess thought he saw a chance of swaying Miss Delgado’s heart, he’d probably take a shot at it.

  The cake was incredible.

  Jess could have so easily gone down the obvious route of colourful superheroes and arch-enemies. Instead he’d incorporated iconic imagery from Travis Bickle and his taxi, to Audrey Hepburn draped over a chaise longue. At the head of the cake, a large Hollywood Boulevard star with 30 sparkling in gold.

  Cinder Events had arranged a parking spot at the back of the building, and clearance to get up through security.

  Due to the guest list, restrictions would be in place on who would be accessing the lifts and the skyline Gold Rooms on the twenty-fifth floor.

  Jess and I both knew what services we were going to offer Miss Delgado—basically whatever services she required, with Jess prepared to go way above and beyond what I paid him for.

  The cake was perfect, the guest passes safely in the van glovebox. We’d be back to collect the cake on the way to the city.

  I had only one problem. I had nothing to wear.

  Jess had gone back home to have his mum fix his hair and was going to get her to give him a lift all the way over to mine so that he could vet the outfit I picked out. As instructed, I was showered, plucked and ready to state my argument for trousers when Jess arrived with a bang.

  “Jesse, you look amazing. Just wait there a sec.” I closed the door in his face and skipped off to contain Dave.

  I let Jesse in, absorbing every inch of him. He looked like some kind of movie star.

  “Your hair!” I sang. “Jesse, you look incredible!”

  Gone were the cornrows he’d had all through the summer, replaced now with a very grown-up mass of individually defined twists.

  “And your suit—I don’t think I’ve ever seen you wear black!” Other than the one day.

  “Actually, it’s licorice—the licorice looked better with the tie and hankie.”

  Beneath Jess’s jacket, a licorice waistcoat over licorice shirt held back the tail end of his fat coppery tie; a matching handkerchief in his
breast pocket completed the look.

  “The licorice works.” I grinned. “It’s a good look for you.”

  “This is my neo-soul look, girl. I am on the prowl tonight. So you think I’ve nailed it?”

  I couldn’t stop looking him over.

  “I think you’ve just lost us the Delgado engagement cake.” That girl had to be seriously in love not to throw Jesse a second glance tonight.

  “So, did you come up with anything?”

  The truth was, I hadn’t really looked that earnestly. I’d thought that the trousers were smart enough, and black flats, but now I wasn’t so sure.

  “Come on up. You can tell me what you think,” I said.

  Jess hung his jacket with meticulous care and sat on the chair at my dressing table. I’d changed in the next bedroom so that Jess had somewhere comfortable to wait before giving me his expert opinion. I teamed the trousers with a white chiffon blouse, and threw a black tailored jacket on over the top. I thought I looked okay, but Jesse’s face said it all.

  “No good?”

  “No, it’s fine. You look nice...but we need to see your legs, Hol. People are going to be asking you to take their drinks orders all night.”

  “But I haven’t got anything like that, Jess. I don’t...party.”

  “Did you look?”

  “Yes,” I lied. “Okay, no, I didn’t. But I know there’s nothing in my wardrobe.”

  “Yeah, well, we’ve got to leave in an hour. So I’m just going to take a look now if that’s all right with you?”

  I felt like a student who had failed their assignment as Jess began thumbing through my wardrobe.

  “No, no, no,” he said. Well, I had told him.

  “Wow! Do people still own these?” He poked his head back to see if I was biting. “When was the last time you cleared out your closet, Hol? No, no, definitely no... A-ha! I knew you’d have something. What’s up with this?” I looked in the dressing table mirror and saw Jesse inspecting the little black dress in his hands. “It’s a bit dusty, Hol!”

  “I haven’t worn it for two years, Jess.”

  “Well, it’s a little bit long, and the neck’s a bit high.”

  “I like bateau necklines,” I interjected. See, I knew some stuff.

  “But it’s sleeveless. You have nice arms, Hol, one of the perks of rolling fondant all day. Where does it come to on your legs?” he asked, leaning back out of the wardrobe.

  “Just above my knee.”

  “That’s a shame. You have good legs, too, Hol, I’ve noticed.” He winked. “So what was the occasion?” he said, dusting the dress. “And why wasn’t I invited?”

  I looked at him in the mirror and smiled as he made the leap.

  “You were.” I smiled. Jess took a deep breath.

  “That’s flown round, Hol.” He winced, carefully draping the dress over his arm. It wasn’t quite two years. We had a couple of weeks yet. “Hol, I’m sorry. You should’ve said as soon as I pulled it out.”

  I felt bad for Jess, but actually I quite liked the dress. After my expectations of what this party would be like, at the very least it wasn’t too attention-grabby. And I wasn’t keeping it under glass; I just hadn’t found another reason to wear it.

  “I like the dress, Jess, but I’ve only got flats to wear. Don’t you think that trousers will be better?”

  Jess twisted the hanger in his hand to spin the dress around. “Are shoes your main issue with this dress, Hol? Be honest.”

  “Jess, honestly, it’s a nice dress,” I said. I didn’t want him to feel bad.

  “You’re sure?”

  “Yes, but—”

  “Wicked. Well, I’ve got a surprise for you, then. You get out of your hotelier gear and slip into that. I’ll be right back.”

  Jess left me to dress. I was going to need tights. My legs were like silk, but they hadn’t seen the sun in a while. I dug around in my drawer for a pair, listening to Jesse stamping on the stairs.

  “When are you getting this place finished, Hol?” he called from the next room. “You know I can cover the shop if you wanted a bit of time here.”

  “Soon. When I get round to it,” I yelled back. “It’s on the list.”

  Aside from the zip I couldn’t fasten up the back by myself, I was ready for Jess’s critique.

  “Come on, then. Feast your eyes.”

  Jess came back into the bedroom behind me and went straight for the zipper. Helping a woman into a dress must’ve been a real novelty.

  We both checked over my reflection in the mirror. Jess got distracted and started messing with his own hair. I couldn’t blame him; I’d rather look at him, too. I didn’t look bad, though. Not bad at all. It did still fit, better than before even. I’d been skinnier then.

  “So? What’s the expert’s opinion?” I asked.

  “You look hot, Hol. Pull your hair out, though.”

  I did what I was told and shook my hair loose. It hadn’t been completely dry when I’d tried tying it back with the trousers, the damp setting it to loose waves just below my shoulders.

  “Yeah, very nice,” Jess said, checking me out.

  “Are you checking me out, Jesse Ray!” I teased.

  “Well, we could always have a go if you like?”

  I laughed. “This bedroom is a sex-free zone.” When I was awake, anyway.

  Jesse delved into the bag he’d brought in.

  “Right, you look hot, Hol, but I have something that’s going to take you from hot to sizzling.”

  Jesse pulled a box from the bag and opened it.

  “Oh, no, no way, Jess.”

  “Hol, you’ve been shying away for too long. It’s time.” He laughed.

  “Time for what! To fall flat on my face with a very expensive cake in tow?”

  “The cake will be fine. The restaurant is providing a trolley. You can use it to lean on...like a walker.”

  Jesse held one patent shoe out to me. “Now who feels like Cinders?” he asked, grinning profusely.

  “Jesse, I can’t walk in those shoes. I don’t know how!”

  “Holly, my sister has a bigger ass than Martha, and she could chase the ice cream van in these. Now get them on, you’ll look the bomb, and we can go to the ball...unless you want to take me up on that offer?”

  * * *

  A few unsure minutes later and I was making my first unaided journey downstairs, hanging on for dear life to the banister. I tried to ignore my entire collection of six or seven pairs of lovely flat shoes, sitting one pair to a step, as I teetered past them. Halfway down and I’d made it past my trainers, two pairs of flip-flops and my ballerina pumps. At the bottom of the stairs, I steadied myself enough to walk out across the hall.

  An hour later and I still hadn’t lost the uncertainty. But, after wobbling only once and a promise from Jess to catch me, I found myself hobbling over the yard to the van.

  Back at the shop, I let Jesse struggle with the cake as I waited, shivering, in the nearly warm cab of the van. A few grunts and groans, and an emergency cake first-aid kit and we were on our way to the bright lights of the city.

  “Can you hold these for me, Jess?” I asked, reaching down by my ankles for the discarded heels.

  “Are you driving barefoot?” he asked, taking them from me.

  “Yeah...I forgot to pick my pumps up.”

  “Well, I’d have gone back in for you.”

  “I’d left the kitchen door open. Dave would’ve trashed your suit.” I wished Jess lived closer. We could hang out more. It was nice having a man around the place.

  I traced my hand over the dress and remembered that day, standing in a frozen churchyard.

  Life had gone on for nearly two whole years, and I had absolutely nothing to show f
or it.

  chapter 14

  My neck ached gazing up at the bright throb of the Gold Rooms, pushing out against the darkness, twenty-five floors above me. A shiver ran over me while I stood guarding the back of the open van. Guarding against what? There was nobody else back here. The rear fire escape we’d been told to use was shut fast, so Jess had run ahead around to the front of the building to find out what was going on. Come on, Jess, it’s freezing!

  The sudden slam of metal shattered the quiet of the service yard and the door swung out from the building. With it, the light from inside threw the only sliver of colour into the yard, and the flashiest looking maître d’ this side of Vegas wheeled a shiny chrome dinner trolley my way.

  “You took your time,” I said, rubbing the cold off my arms.

  “I got lost. I ended up in the underground car park instead of the street out front. You’d have thought they’d have stretched to signage.” People who needed signs wouldn’t find themselves back here. Why were back-of-house areas always so bleak?

  Jess expertly manhandled the cake onto the trolley and I followed him back into the building. I hadn’t used the trolley as a walker yet. Maybe I’d survive the night.

  A mountain of a man with a detached expression and an earpiece running over the fold in his neck followed us into the lift. I concentrated on the flashing buttons, higher and higher up the pad, ignoring the prickle of claustrophobia.

  The doors slid open just as I started to wonder how quickly the man-mountain could spend all the oxygen we had.

  Security stepped aside, and the full effect of the Gold Rooms vista hit home.

  The trolley rattled forward and I automatically stepped out with it into a space stretching what must have been nearly the whole expanse of the roof. And what a roof. Even up on the twenty-fifth floor, my neck still ached looking to where the ceiling reached away above us. It had to be at least double the height any of the floors we’d pinged past, triple even. The square bar at the centre of the room drew my eyes next. It drew the partygoers, too, like butterflies to a flower—beautiful creatures delighting at the nectars on offer there. Above the bar, held suspended by some invisible feat, a large sculptural piece hung over the immaculately dressed staff below. It reminded me of the oversized straggly hazel wreath they hung over the public entrance to the forest each year, only...posher.