Sugar Secrets…& Shocks

by Mel Sparke

  Matt’s ears were ringing. And it wasn’t just Cat’s shrill tones. It was the shock of what she’d said.

  Shaking with hurt and rage, he stormed out of the room, slamming the door so hard behind him that the lads down in the basement jumped.

  CHAPTER 15

  TANTRUMS-R-US

  The sun was streaming into the little back yard behind the End-of-the-Line café. From the open door that led into the kitchen, sounds of pots, pans and dishwashers clattered together noisily on this busy Monday lunchtime.

  Not that Matt - sitting morosely on a weathered plastic chair - noticed either the heat of the sun or the clatters and bangs from the kitchen. His head was whirling between the misery of coming home to a house that now seemed to belong to someone else, and the excitement of taking off again…

  “Here we go!” said Anna, appearing beside him and expertly flipping open a red and white gingham tablecloth over an upturned milk crate on the paving-stoned yard. “Hold on!”

  Matt watched aimlessly as his girlfriend hurried back into the kitchen, only to reappear seconds later with a tray of food.

  “Good news - I can take a proper break!” said Anna, brushing dust and leaves off the other plastic chair in the yard and pulling it closer to Matt and the little makeshift table. “Nick says it’s quietening down in there finally. I can’t believe how busy it was for this early in the week!”

  Matt smiled and nodded distractedly.

  “Help yourself,” Anna encouraged him. “That’s a ham salad roll, and that’s a cheese and coleslaw one. Have whichever you want. I don’t mind. And I’ve got a couple of Kit-Kats too.”

  Picking up the roll nearest to him, Matt bit into it, without much enthusiasm.

  “What’s up?” asked Anna, scrunching up the apron she’d just peeled off, now that she was off duty for a while. “Are you still fed up after that row with Cat yesterday?”

  Anna had expected an appearance from Matt the previous night; they’d had a tentative arrangement that he would come round to her flat in the evening, as long - Matt had joked - as he hadn’t pulled any muscles or broken any limbs after the football match.

  But she’d waited and waited, watching her aromatherapy candle burn away to nothing. She had ended up feeling very tense indeed, considering it was supposed to be a relaxing lavender candle.

  During those few long hours, there’d been plenty of times when Anna had been tempted to reach over to the phone to call and find out where he was, but every time something stopped her. All week, it had felt as if Matt’s mind had been far away. Andy’s comment of the day before had only proved what Anna had already suspected - that Matt was planning to get back out to Ibiza (and Trudie?) as quickly as he could.

  Why should I chase after him? she’d concluded as she’d flicked her way through TV channel after TV channel, unable to settle to anything. It’s up to Matt to come to me and tell me what’s going on…

  Eventually, around 10.00 pm, Matt had finally called her on his mobile - he was at home, in the den, and sounding slightly the worse for wear. He poured out the whole thing about the fight with Cat and had gone on to explain that he’d been in a foul mood that he couldn’t shake. Plus, he’d been drinking too much to drive. The other lads had tried to keep him company, but one by one they’d trailed away, leaving Matt alone and fed up.

  “Will you come here?” he’d asked her.

  But Anna didn’t want to. She’d felt too hurt that it had taken him so long to get in touch and that he’d chosen beer to see him through instead of coming around to talk about it with her.

  But most of all, she had been hurt that at no point over the last few days had Matt spoken about anything other than himself.

  ‘How were you when I was away, Anna?’ she asked herself once she’d put down the phone. Pretty lonely, Matt, she replied. ‘How would you feel if I went back over there, Anna?’ she’d continued with her imaginary conversation. I’d be dead miserable, actually, she answered herself…

  And now, sitting in the café yard and shielding her eyes against the bright sunlight, Anna waited again, to see if Matt was finally going to come clean; to see if he’d actually come out with what was on his mind - or at least include her in his life in some wa. Even if it was just to tell her their relationship was over.

  “You know, I think I’ll go down to my dad’s office today - have it out with him, away from the house, where there’s no chance of Cat listening in… What do you think?”

  “Yes, why not?” said Anna shortly.

  “I should just do it now, shouldn’t I?” Matt continued.

  “Why not?” Anna shrugged, watching him get to his feet, ready to set off. She felt resigned - it didn’t matter what she said, he was going to do what he wanted anyway.

  “I’ll go now,” Matt repeated, searching in his pockets for his car keys. “Catch you later, yeah?”

  “Sure…” said Anna, watching him leave.

  A chilly breeze fluttered through the yard, sending the edges of the gingham tablecloth flying.

  Anna scooped up the cloth, along with the tray and its barely touched meal.

  Might as well get back to work, she thought bleakly. There’s no point in staying out in the sunshine. There’s nothing to keep me here, just like there’s nothing to keep Matt here either.

  “Be cool, be cool, be cool,” Matt muttered under his breath as he waited impatiently in the reception area for his dad to be free to see him.

  Annoying as it was that his father was busy right this second, at least it gave Matt extra time to rehearse what exactly he was going to say.

  “Dad,” he muttered quietly, “I know there’s nothing I can do about Cat and Sylvia moving in with us, but look, there’s no way I’m giving up my room to be turned into a toilet.”

  At least, he thought he was being quiet. A sideways glance at the receptionist showed that wasn’t quite the case. Quick as a flash, the middle-aged woman averted her curious gaze from him and turned back to her switchboard.

  “…and like I said, I’ll get that proposal e-mailed over to you, Mr Williamson,” came Matt Ryan Snr’s booming, businesslike voice. “We’ll talk later! Bye! Well, hi there, son - come on through!”

  Matt bounded from his seat, pausing to let a besuited client pass by, and followed his father through the glass-panelled doorway.

  “This is a nice surprise! I couldn’t believe it when Ellen buzzed through to say you were here!”

  Matt wasn’t really listening - he hadn’t been in his dad’s offices for ages and was amazed at how much they’d changed.

  “Where’ve all the drawing boards gone?” he asked, gazing at the busy, streamlined room, with its banks of computers.

  “Drawing boards?” grinned Matt Snr, smoothing his tie. “It’s all CAD now, Matt!”

  “CAD?” his son repeated as they continued walking towards the private office on the other side of the room.

  “Computer Aided Design. But we’ve still got a few drawing boards over there.”

  Matt stared in the direction his dad was pointing, but there were too many people in the way.

  “Are these all your staff?” he asked his father incredulously. He only remembered his dad employing a couple of architects and technicians before. Who were all these people?

  “Yep, they’re my staff,” laughed Matt Snr, ushering his son into the private room and closing the door behind them. “Business is so good, we’re practically outgrowing this place now.”

  “Yeah? Are you thinking of getting some new offices?” asked Matt, still stunned by the changes. He tried, but couldn’t even remember the last time he’d been here. On a day-to-day basis, his father’s property development company didn’t exactly get him going.

  “Nah - too much hassle,” said Matt Snr, settling down on his leather office chair on the other side of the desk. “But, as Sylvia pointed out to me, somewhere down the line, the best idea would probably be to have my own office at home - you know, convert the basement -
and free up this room here for the architects. It would make sense, since I’m away on site most of the time anyway.”

  “Excuse me?!” said Matt, cocking his head to one side and looking aghast at his father.

  “Well, I… I mean, not right away,” bumbled Matt Snr, realising that he might have been a bit more tactful. “We’re talking eventually. Not straightaway…”

  But his son was in no mood to be pacified.

  “Whoah! First, you want to kick me out of my bedroom and now you want to kick me out of the den?” he exploded.

  “No! No! You’re not listening!” Matt Snr tried to protest. “I said not now - well, the bedroom, yes, but you’re hardly ever in there and we do need another bathroom. And as for the den—”

  “My God, how many more shocks have you got for me, Dad?!” fumed Matt. “Am I going to go home now and find Sylvia’s turfed all my stuff out into the garden shed?! It’s like, how much do both want rid of me?”

  “Matt - I told you, it’s not like that!” his father tried to explain. “Look, I never thought I’d find someone special again after your mother left. But you’ve got your whole life in front of you. I mean, you probably won’t even be living at home for that much longer!”

  “Well, thanks very much! Would you like me to leave my door key now?!” Matt ranted, jumping to his feet and rifling in his jeans pockets.

  Matt Snr suddenly snapped, the expression on his heavy, round face turning from placating to angry.

  “Good grief, Matt! Stop acting like a spoilt child and see things as an adult for once!”

  But Matt didn’t take his father’s advice. Instead, he did what he’d already done a couple of times in the past week - he stormed out of the glass-walled room, slamming the door so hard that everyone in the outer office looked up.

  “Watch out!” Matt yelled at the sea of stunned faces. “His girlfriend will want to convert this place next, and then you’ll all get chucked out too!”

  “For God’s sake, Matt!” he heard his father exclaim from behind him - but Matt was already gone.

  CHAPTER 16

  HEADS YOU LOSE, TAILS YOU LOSE

  “…and Dylan apparently didn’t do anything - he just sat there looking shocked while it all kicked off between Cat and Matt. Then he left, but I don’t know what that means. But it could be that there’s some kind of bad feeling, which would be a bit of a problem, since The Loud hire a lot of their equipment from Central Sounds. Still, I suppose it’s between Dylan and Matt, not the rest of the band - but you know how people tend to take sides. Plus there’s still that weird thing about Cat coming on to Dylan, when she used to date his little brother. I mean, like Sonja says, don’t you think Dylan would have heard what Cat’s like to go out with? Zac must’ve told him. Or don’t brothers tell each other stuff like that? Alex? What do you think…?”

  Maya trailed off, realising that she was babbling. Or at least that she was talking to herself.

  She looked up from the photo she was developing - a shot of Vikki from Saturday, directing her motley collection of mini-actors -and peered across the gloom of the red-lit darkroom at Alex.

  He was sitting on a stool, leaning on a work surface and staring into space.

  “Hello?” said Maya, trying to grab his attention.

  She’d just poured out the whole of Sunday night’s events, as told to her by Kerry, who’d heard it all first hand from Ollie, and Alex hadn’t paid a blind bit of notice.

  “Yeah, yeah,” he nodded. “Matt caught Dylan and Cat kissing and freaked out. Yep, I was listening.”

  Maya felt her cheeks flush. He made it sound so juvenile and silly. Even if he didn’t realise it, he was patronising her all over again, just as he’d done on Sunday afternoon.

  “Sorry,” said Alex, realising Maya had gone quiet and moving off the stool and coming to examine her print. “It was just that I was thinking about this dinner party on Friday. Since they’ve just moved into their flat, we ought to get them a present. What do you think about wine glasses?”

  Maya didn’t know what to say about wine glasses. Wine was something her mum and dad had. She never touched the stuff herself.

  “Listen - it’s getting noisy through there,” said Alex, cocking his head towards the door before she could reply. “Sounds like everyone’s starting to arrive!”

  “Fine. Well, this print’s done, if you want to open the door,” Maya told him, pulling the sheet of photographic paper from the tray of chemicals with a pair of plastic tongs.

  “Great,” he nodded, pulling open the door and letting the bright light of the outside room flood in. “I didn’t want to expose that print - not if it’s the one you want to enter in the competition.”

  Maya was almost glad when the door glided shut behind him and she was left in her own company, alone with her own brooding thoughts, in the strange, dark, rose-tinted twilight.

  She’d printed up four shots now, all from the drama workshop on Saturday, and she was really pleased with them. In fact, Maya had managed to cheer herself up pretty well, immersing herself in her work.

  I suppose my parents trained me well, she thought grudgingly. When it comes to studying or work, I can switch off from anything else and just concentrate on that!

  It was true. In the last twenty minutes, she’d put aside any niggling thoughts about things Alex had said or, more pertinently, the way Alex had said them, and thrown herself into developing the prints. It had also helped that no one else had needed to come and share the dark room with her - so far.

  A knock on the door soon changed that.

  “It’s OK - come in!” she yelled, since she had nothing developing in the chemical baths.

  “Hi!” grinned Billy, leaning in through the doorway. “Can you come out for a while? Alex wants a word with all of us. Oh, and he says can you bring out the prints you’ve been working on, if they’re dry…”

  “OK…” said Maya dubiously, gathering up her photos and wondering what was going on.

  “Ah, Maya! Good!” exclaimed Alex as she joined the twelve or so other members of the club out in the main room. There were lots of new and recent prints taped up on the wall, she noticed, as she found herself a chair and sat down with everyone else.

  “OK - as I was saying just now, there’s some bad news,” sighed Alex, leaning against the workstation. “Basically, it’s my fault - I only read the rules for the competition properly today and it seems that there can only be one entry per photography club.”

  Maya blinked - that made things more awkward. Deciding whose photo to enter could prove tricky. But it seemed that Alex had already decided how they could do it.

  “Maya, I know you’ve only just printed them up, but you’re quite keen on entering one of those shots you’ve been working on tonight, aren’t you?”

  Maya looked down at the pictures she was carrying in an old photographic paper box and nodded.

  “Fine,” said Alex, stretching out his arm towards her. “Can I take them then, please? I’ll tape them up on the wall alongside everyone else’s, then we’ll have a vote on whose gets to be put forward from our club.”

  As soon as Maya’s efforts were fixed to the wall, the debate started. After half an hour or so of discussion, bantering and praise, there were three favourites left on the wall. First was a photo taken by Andy - an atmospheric shot of the tatty dressing-room-cum-store-room of the Railway Tavern, empty of people but packed with cardboard boxes, well-worn and well-played musical gear, the old, uncomfortable sofa and graffiti-covered walls.

  Next to that was a shot Ashleigh had taken of the electric pylons that stood just outside Winstead. Taken from below, with the black wires standing out against a clear blue sky, it looked almost like a computer-generated piece of abstract art than a straightforward photo, and was quite amazing.

  Last, there was Maya’s shot of Vikki, hunched down on her knees and listening intently to the little girl whose hands she was holding. Naturally, it was the needy little girl Chloe - t
he one Lewis said no one liked - but her delicate frame and almost birdlike vulnerability showed up brilliantly next to Vikki’s buxom build and warm, capable manner.

  It’s good, but it looks a bit twee compared to Ashleigh and Andy’s, Maya decided, staring intently at all three.

  “Right, vote time!” announced Alex, his deep Glaswegian burr silencing all the random chitchatting going on. “So, hands up for Andy’s? One, two, three… And Ashleigh’s? Uh-huh… And finally, Maya’s?”

  While Alex scribbled the count down on his notepad, Maya shot a look at Andy, who gave her an encouraging grin. She didn’t dare look at Ashleigh.

  “OK… so with one abstention, that means we’ve got a tie,” Alex announced. “I suppose it’s down to me to give a casting vote.”

  He pushed himself away from the work surface and turned to consider the three pieces of work. A hubbub of whispering started as everyone waited.

  “All great shots, all very different,” Alex finally concluded. “But I guess, for the compassion it evokes, I think I’ll have to go with Maya’s…”

  Maya froze - half elated and half embarrassed. Now that her head and heart were buzzing with the idea of taking her photography studies further, hopefully leading to a career, she naturally wanted to be the best and get through to the competition. But on the other hand, was it teacher’s pet all over again?

  “Well!” came a voice suddenly. “What a surprise! I don’t think!”

  And with that, Ashleigh stood up from her chair, screeching the metal legs loudly across the lino floor, and stomped out of the clubroom into the night.

  CHAPTER 17

  BAD MOODS AND BREAKFAST

  “Maya, can we go to the toy shop after this?”

  “Ravi, don’t be greedy! You’re getting a treat by going to the café - isn’t that enough?” Maya gently admonished her little brother as they strode along the pavement, hand in hand, towards the End-of-the-Line.

  “I only wanted to look in the toy shop, not buy anything…” mumbled Ravi.

  “Yeah, yeah, and I believe that!” Maya rolled her eyes.