by Ali Harris
I nod, feeling choked at his speech, but I raise my glass, feeling more relaxed all of a sudden. I take a sip of champagne, which helps even more. ‘But you’d better give the memo to them.’ I nod at Felix, Lily and Iris, who are all nudging each other and giggling like schoolchildren as they approach us carrying two plates between the three of them.
Sam laughs and shakes his head. ‘I knew they’d be trouble. They’ll be gone after the main courses. I’ve promised Lily a Martini on me if she helped out tonight. Not that she can cook, mind. Felix and Iris have been in charge of that. But she helped me decorate this place.’
‘It looks incredible,’ I say. ‘It’s like Christmas has come early.’
‘Or, hopefully, just in time,’ Sam says, raising his glass again.
‘To Hardy’s,’ I say clinking my glass with his.
‘Let’s hope she gets her Christmas miracle,’ Sam adds as the Three Stooges deliver our starters.
‘Sir, modom,’ Felix says as he places our plates in front of us. ‘Your salmon and spinach roulade, lovingly prepared by me.’ He steps away and puts his hands behind his back, rocking a little on his heels. ‘Maisie used to say it was my speciality,’ he adds proudly.
‘It looks wonderful, Felix,’ I say, glancing dubiously down at the pale pink, cream and green spinach and smoked salmon dish served on a bed of limp-looking greens, and feeling my mouth twitch and my stomach lurch a little.
‘Go on then, taste it!’ Felix prompts eagerly, peering over us closely.
‘Oh, Felix, let them be,’ Lily chastises, pulling him back. ‘Here you go, darlings,’ she coos as she places a basket in the middle of the table and Iris pops down some olives with a wink. ‘Here’s some pumpernickel bread. I didn’t bake it myself, obviously. It’s from Selfridges Food Hall. Now we’ll be off. Call us if you need us!’ And Lily and Iris back off gracefully, each dragging a reluctant Felix by the arm as they retreat.
Sam and I look down at our starters, then back at each other and laugh.
‘It’s a retro roulade,’ I whisper.
‘I know,’ Sam hisses back. ‘I’m just worried he actually made it in the 1980s and just got it out of the freezer for tonight. You’re lucky, though, we nearly got prawn cocktail until I asked for something more “modern”.’
‘Bless him,’ I say, wiping away a tear of laughter, ‘we shouldn’t judge until we taste it. It might be delicious.’
Sam looks at me and then his plate doubtfully.
‘OK, well, I’m going in,’ I say dramatically, lifting my knife and fork and taking a deep breath. ‘Are you with me, or not?’
‘Um . . . not?’ Sam says, making a face at his plate.
‘He’s still looking, you know,’ I say, waving my fork and smiling at Felix.
‘Oh God,’ Sam sighs. ‘I should’ve known this was a bad idea. I should’ve just ordered takeaway. After three, OK? One, two . . .’
‘Three!’ I swipe at the roulade with my knife, stab it with my fork, look at it for a moment, then pop it in my mouth. I look over but Sam is still staring at his.
‘Hey, cheat!’ I say with my mouth full of cream cheese, spinach and salmon. ‘You know,’ I say thoughtfully, ‘this is actually pretty nice.’ I adopt a Masterchef tone of voice. ‘Creamy, smooth cheese with the sharpness of lemon, then there’s the crunch of the leaves with the saltiness of the salmon. Oh and the festive, earthy tang of nutmeg.’
‘Really?’ says Sam, taking a mouthful himself and then immediately grabs his glass and washes it down with a large gulp of champagne. ‘Liar!’ he hisses, and then waves at Felix, who’s still hovering in the corner, and calls out to him through gritted teeth: ‘Mmm, it’s delicious, Felix!’
‘Come on, eat up!’ I laugh as I smear some on Lily’s posh bread. ‘Don’t be such a wimp.’
Our starters over, our main courses of beef Wellington have been delivered accompanied by lots of leading comments from Lily, who stood by our table looking at us maternally and occasionally patting my hair as if she’s a proud mum. Eventually she retreats and Sam and I are left to continue chatting.
‘It’s been a crazy few weeks, hasn’t it?’ Sam says, slicing through his pastry.
I nod, thinking of all that has happened. Joel, Delilah and Will, the store’s makeover, my own. Even being here now with Sam is something I would have never imagined three weeks ago. ‘It certainly has,’ I sigh and then start giggling.
‘What’s so funny?’ Sam says, slightly perturbed. ‘Have I got gravy round my mouth? Or on my shirt?’
I shake my head and find I can’t stop laughing.
‘Then what?’ he presses desperately. ‘Come on, Evie, you’re making me paranoid.’
I put my knife and fork down and wipe away a tear. ‘I was just thinking about how weird all this is. I mean, we’re usually stuck together in that dusty stockroom, sorting through boxes, me all forlorn and depressed about my job and you looking like you just rolled out of bed to do all your dad’s deliveries and wishing you were doing anything else . . .’
‘I’m not a morning person,’ grumbles Sam defensively.
‘Nor am I!’ I reply, and this makes me laugh even harder. ‘And now here we are, all done up to the nines, having a fancy dinner in the dead of night whilst the store is shut, after secretly making the whole place over. I mean, it’s crazy!’
‘It certainly is,’ Sam says with a wide grin. ‘But it’s good-crazy. I’ve had the best time since we all started working on this place. You’ve really helped me go for my photography dream, Evie. I honestly can’t thank you enough. And having my pictures printed in the papers, well, it’s been amazing. Not just because it’s helped Hardy’s, but because I know it’s going to help me too. I never thought anything like this would happen. I’d kind of resigned myself to the fact that I’d be doing deliveries forever . . .’
‘But why?’ I ask. He is always so open, yet there is so much I don’t know about him. ‘You’re young and you always seem so positive, what made you give up so easily?’
Sam shrugs, and I sense he’s uncomfortable. He looks up at me and goes to say something but then seems to reconsider. ‘Just . . . circumstances. After dropping out of uni before I’d finished my degree, I had to get a job quickly, which didn’t leave me many options. My dad kindly offered me a job and I decided to take it. He always wanted me to go into the family business and part of me felt like maybe I was accepting the inevitable. After all, my dad’s done all right. He’s worked hard to build a business that could support his family . . .’ Sam clears his throat and takes a sip of wine. ‘I guess I just thought maybe I should do the same? Be responsible. Be a man.’
‘But you’re only in your twenties. You don’t have to be responsible yet . . .’ I point out.
Sam looks down at his plate and goes silent. It takes him a few minutes of pushing food around to speak again. ‘I guess not, but that’s not how you always feel is it?’ He looks up at me. ‘I mean, take you. You have responsibilities too . . . your sister’s kids for a start . . .’
Now it’s my turn to look down at my plate. ‘I guess so, and I suppose sometimes I have resented it. It’s not what a single twenty-eight-year-old should be doing after all, is it? Staying in every night, cooking tea and watching CBeebies. But then again, I do really enjoy being with them. And it’s not like I’ve ever been the sort of person who wants to go out clubbing every night. I guess I’ve always been a home girl at heart.’
Sam leans forward and rests his elbows on the table, listening closely to me. It feels nice. I’m not used to talking about myself.
‘I think I was happy to look after them for so long because I wanted to be close to Delilah and be part of her life. I’ve always looked up to her so much but because of the age gap we never really had the chance to live together for long. She’d moved away to go to university by the time I was twelve and before that she was always out with her friends. I always felt like I wanted to be near her . . .’ I pause for a moment as a thought
occurs to me, ‘. . . to bask in the reflected glow of her life as it’s always seemed so much better than mine. Hers has always seemed so smooth-sailing whereas I’ve always felt like I’m scrabbling around, trying to find order and beauty and calm out of what feels like chaos. Nothing’s ever felt easy. I didn’t really have any natural talent – apart from being creative – but my dad always told me that wasn’t enough and that left me feeling bereft. I just didn’t know which direction my life was meant to take, or have the confidence to make choices on my own, so I dutifully followed other people’s lives, hoping they’d lead me down the right path. Like my ex, Jamie.’
Sam nods and I know he understands.
‘When that all fell apart I quickly moved on to my sister. By living with her I hoped that her life and the ease with which she’s always seemed to live it would rub off on me. And in some respects it did. I was happy and positive for the first time in my life. I loved being at Hardy’s even if it wasn’t my dream job and I loved being at home with her and the kids. But over time, the realization that I was living in her shadow and that no one in the city seemed to be able to see me, or appreciate anything about me, began to dawn on me. I was seeing Delilah less and less, and at work I didn’t have much contact with anyone either. Except you, of course,’ I add shyly.
Sam smiles. ‘But it’s not like that any more,’ he says gently. ‘You’ve made such a difference to this place and to so many people’s lives. I mean, just look at how much Felix and Lily love you. We all do,’ he adds, and our eyes lock for a moment. Sam coughs again. ‘I’m sure that once Rupert knows who’s been doing these makeovers you’ll see the last of that stockroom, too.’
‘But he can never find out,’ I say seriously. ‘You know that, right? I mean, if he did, lots of people’s jobs could be in danger again and I can’t let that happen.’
‘But you deserve to be recognized for what you’ve done!’ Sam protests. ‘Don’t you want everyone to know the real Evie Taylor? Show them what you can really do?’
I shrug noncommittally. ‘I did, I guess, but funnily enough it’s not such a big deal to me any more. Doing all this has made me realize that I’m suited to the stockroom. And as for everyone knowing the real me, well,’ I look at him through my lowered eyelashes, ‘I think the most important people already do. And that’s enough for me.’
‘Wow.’ Sam sits back in his chair and shakes his head. ‘You’re something, you know that? I’m not sure I’d be so accepting of my fate.’
‘So says the sulky delivery boy,’ I laugh, throwing my napkin at him. ‘If you want people to know who you really are, why don’t you tell your dad you’re leaving the business and put all your energy into becoming a photographer? Go on, I dare you!’
Sam raises an eyebrow at me. ‘Did you just dare me?’ he says, throwing down his own napkin on the table.
I lift my chin and meet his eyes with a steely gaze. ‘I most certainly did.’
‘Well, that’s annoying, because now I’m going to have to take you up on that dare. What if I double-dare you?’ he shoots back.
‘I’m not a gambling kind of girl,’ I reply sweetly.
‘Oh, you’re good, Taylor, too good, damnit.’
We are in fits of relaxed laughter by the time Lily delivers our Arctic rolls.
‘We’re off,’ she says, glancing behind her at Felix. ‘So we’ll be leaving you young lovebirds to it.’ And she kisses us both and then departs in a cloud of sweet-smelling perfume as we collapse into even more giggles after she’s gone.
‘Young lovebirds!’ I chuckle. ‘Subtlety never was her strong point!’
‘And if she thinks we’re young lovebirds, what does that make her and Felix?’ Sam splutters. ‘The old lovebirds?’
I stop laughing. ‘You don’t think they’re . . . do you?’ I gasp.
Sam’s mouths lilts into a smile. ‘Haven’t you seen how Felix looks at Lily? He’s utterly besotted.’
I smack my hand against my forehead. ‘How could I have missed it! It’s so obvious now you say that.’
I think of Felix and his more frequent visits to Lily’s tearoom over the past week or so. I thought it was because he and Lily were bonding over the store’s makeovers, coming up with ideas after he’d finished his night shift, but it seems that there was something more to it. And now I think of it, they’re the perfect match. Once again I realize I’ve been so wrapped up in what’s been happening in my life recently I’ve stopped noticing everything.
‘Oh, I do hope they get together!’ I exclaim. ‘Do you think there’s anything we can do to help things along a bit?’
Sam smiles and peers out into the store where Felix and Lily disappeared into a few minutes ago. ‘I’m not sure we need to,’ he smiles, and he beckons me to follow him as he stands up, creeps over to the entrance of the tearoom and peeks through the doorway. I huddle behind him, holding on to his arms as I sneak a peek too and have to stop myself from crying out with pleasure when I see Felix and Lily, quietly waltzing in the middle of the candlelit menswear department to the music that’s been playing in our tearoom all evening.
Just then the opening strains of Nat King Cole’s most famous song, ‘Unforgettable’, begin to play.
As Nat croons, Felix and Lily gaze at each other as they twirl around the shop floor.
I squeal with excitement.
‘Shhh,’ Sam hushes me, and puts one hand over my mouth and the other round my waist. ‘Isn’t that just the most adorable thing you’ve ever seen?’
Just then Felix swishes Lily round in a circle and lifts her effortlessly off the ground.
‘Wow, Felix’s quite the mover!’ I whisper. ‘He looks like he’s in his element.’
‘She’s been giving him private lessons, apparently,’ Sam whispers, and I coo with delight as he twirls her around again.
‘I reckon they could teach our generation a thing or two about the art of romance,’ Sam says, and then he turns and leads me gently back into the tearoom to give them some privacy.
He stands opposite me with his arms outstretched. Suddenly from feeling wonderfully relaxed and comfortable I feel awkward and anxious and all legs and arms. I can’t look at Sam because I don’t know how I feel. I know he said he just wants to be friends but I’m not so sure I can do it like this.
When I finally bring myself to look up at him I burst out laughing. ‘What the hell are you doing, Sam?’ I splutter.
‘What does it look like I’m doing?’ he replies incredulously. ‘I’m dancing!’
‘Is that what you call it?’ I laugh. Sam’s got his hands in the air, rave-style, his face is a picture of concentration and he appears to be in the middle of the ‘big box little box’ dance move. ‘Forget Felix’s old-fashioned moves, this is how I’ve attracted every woman I’ve ever gone out with,’ he grins. ‘It never fails. Come on, try it!’
I look at him for a moment, then shrug and join in with him, giggling helplessly when I think about what we look like.
Sam stops suddenly and puts his hands on my shoulders and I do the same to him, and we morph seamlessly into doing the classic school disco side-step slow dance whilst trying to maintain straight faces. It doesn’t work. We collapse into each other’s arms, tears of laughter streaming down our faces just as the song enters its final chorus, at which point our laughter subsides and we hold on to each other and sway softly in time to the music. I close my eyes and rest my head on Sam’s shoulder and he rests his hands gently on my back, and for a moment, I forget where I am and what I’m doing, and all I know is that suddenly, just like Nat King Cole says, it seems that someone I really like, finally thinks I’m unforgettable too.’
‘Evie,’ Sam mutters hoarsely, his voice thick with intent in my ear. ‘There’s something I need to tell you, something really important.’
‘Shhh,’ I say, my lips brushing the curve of his neck by accident. ‘Let’s not spoil the moment. It’s just perfect.’
‘I know,’ Sam answers, and pulls away
from me. ‘That’s why I need to tell you this.’ I look up at him in confusion and he rubs his head sorrowfully. ‘Evie, I do really like you but you know there’s someone else. Her name’s—’
‘Ella. I know.’ I pull away from him. Deep down I’d hoped it was all over with her.
‘No, no, that’s over . . .’
I feel a tidal wave of joy wash over me.
‘I’m talking about Sophie, she’s—’
I extricate myself from him arms. ‘God, how many women are there, Sam?’ I exclaim in horror. ‘You know what, don’t answer that. I don’t want to know the graphic details. You really had me fooled, you know that?’ I snatch my jacket off my chair and throw it round my shoulders, but it gets a tangled up and instead I screw it up into a ball in my arms. Then I push past him and run blindly towards the door, feeling a complete fool for about the millionth time in my life.
‘I thought you were different, Sam. I really thought you were different,’ I say without turning round.
‘Evie, wait!’ Sam calls desperately.
But I don’t hear any more. I run back through the store, up the stairs and towards the staff exit, wanting Hardy’s to swallow me up and spit me out back in my bed, where I can forget all about tonight and just fade into the background.
Because no matter what Nat King Cole just tried to make me believe, I know that I’ll never be unforgettable.
Monday 19 December
6 Shopping Days Until Christmas
I open the delivery door reluctantly. I can barely bring myself to look at Sam after what happened on Friday night. And he clearly feels the same as he has his back to me and is busily unpacking the usual Monday morning delivery from the van. Instead of holding the door open for him, I prop it open and disappear down an aisle so I can get back to sorting out my already ridiculously tidy shelves.
‘That’s everything, Evie,’ I hear him say at last, and I move a few items around needlessly before wiping my hands on my pencil skirt, smoothing my pin-curled hair and pulling the neck bow on my emerald-green satin blouse and emerging into the stockroom. ‘I just need you to sign this.’ He holds out a clipboard in front of me and puts his other hand in the pocket of his battered jeans. He looks tired, I think, like he hasn’t had much sleep. Well, ditto.
