Uncle David smiled down the camera. ‘Nice big glass of water and five minutes in the sun before service, alright jelly-belly?’
‘Yeah,’ she said.
‘And maybe get out of Havingley for a bit, if you can. I know it’s busy, but it’s important to take some time out for yourself, too, even if it’s just for an afternoon.’
‘Okay,’ acknowledged Penny. ‘Sorry to cry. I think my hormones are doing something crazy is all. I’ll ask the doctor next time I see him.’
‘I love you,’ Uncle David soothed. ‘You’re making me so, so proud. I’d be proud anyway, but. Well. You know. Thank you. I know you never really wanted to be up there, but I’m grateful you are.’
‘It’s okay. I love you too,’ Penny said. ‘Tell Eric I love him as well.’
‘Will do darling. Have a good day, okay?’
The water and five minutes in the sun helped, and fortunately Penny was ahead of herself in terms of kitchen prep so, as long as it was a quiet service, she knew she’d have time to nap before dinner. She definitely felt delicate, though, and so it was with a wince that she heard the gravel of the car park being flung into the air as somebody spun around and into a parking bay at a speed about twenty times higher than they should. Two more cars followed behind.
‘What the hell …?’ she said, under her breath, glancing out the window. ‘Who the hell are these guys, Manuela? Have you seen them? All the sports cars in the car park?’
‘The boys,’ said Manuela, rolling her eyes. ‘A big group of them – maybe every three or four months. They come, they drink, and then they drive home.’
‘They drink and drive?’
Manuela nodded.
‘But they also spend a lot.’
‘Figures,’ said Penny, craning her neck to try and see them better. ‘I should say something. They can’t drive that fast! They could honest-to-god kill somebody! Urgh!’
‘Idiots,’ said Manuela.
Later, Charlie said a table out front wanted to meet the chef. It had happened a few times since her arrival, though it still surprised Penny that guests could be so kind as to tell her they’d enjoyed her food face to face.
When the kitchen ran well it was like a ballet – her and Manuela working in harmony to create the dishes, Paul on the pastry section and Ollie in the pot-wash. It was true teamwork, and those shifts, where Penny truly occupied herself in the moment, were her happiest, and it was often reflected in the food. Those were the shifts where people requested to shake her hand, asking after her uncle and her future plans for the place. Those were the days she felt like she belonged. Today, though, had not been one of those days. Her hangover meant Penny had felt agitated and irritable. She’d snapped at Manuela and at Paul. Everything felt like too much work, and on those days the veneer of positivity she’d adopted – that she was okay being there, that she didn’t miss Bridges that much, that it was only for a year anyway – came crashing down. She’d tried to get out of going out front and speaking to the customers who’d requested her but Charlie said the group were insistent, and it was then Penny understood it was the group of men who drove their fancy cars and drank too much for a lunch and were stupid enough to drive home afterwards.
‘Oh god,’ she said to Charlie. ‘Let the record show I tried to fight you on this, so if I now end up fighting one of these fools that’s my get-out-of-jail-free card, okay?’
‘You’re too charming to be rude,’ said Charlie. ‘But just so you know: I’m hungover too and I’ve managed them okay, so no excuses.’ They shot a placating smile and went to unload the glasswasher.
Penny pushed through the doors and arranged the features of her face into the closest approximation of friendly that she could muster. The kitchen led on to what they called ‘Bottom Bar’, with five tables that were all now empty. The group of men were sat through the archway in ‘Top Bar’, meaning Penny could hear them before she saw them.
She turned the corner and they all looked up.
‘Whaaayyyyy!’ shouted one of them, like he was at a football match. ‘Chef!’
The other men around the table – six of them, all about Penny’s age, if not a tiny bit older, used their fingers to drum on the wood with increasing volume before a head of blonde curls yelled above the din, ‘Alright chaps, she gets it! She gets the point!’
Penny stood, bemused, wondering if that was it. Their drumming had made her head throb. The men resumed talking amongst themselves, arguing over who was going to pay the bill that sat in the middle of their table. They were all waving their credit cards about like swords, vying to be the one to show off by settling up what was indelibly in the high hundreds.
‘Thank you, gentlemen,’ Penny said, turning back around. ‘I’m glad you enjoyed it.’ She would normally have added please come again but she wasn’t sure if she actually did want them to come again. They were bloody noisy.
‘Sorry about us all,’ the blonde curls bellowed after her. ‘We’ve had a great time!’
Penny didn’t turn back around. She wanted a cigarette. And she wanted the men to go home.
It was a dry day for winter, and so Penny flopped down on the back step down to the car park to smoke her roll-up. She typically didn’t like customers seeing her staff smoking or loitering, and for anybody else she would have stood and moved out of sight – but, hangover considered, she stayed where she was when she saw the lingering group from lunch leaving.
‘Oh hey!’ said one of them, clocking where she was sat. It was the blonde, curly-haired one. He wore Gucci silk joggers, boisterously shouting about their designer status with looping ‘G’s’ all over them. His collared t-shirt was similarly patterned but Louis Vuitton, and he’d pushed up the sleeves of his Burberry coat to reveal a huge Omega Seamaster weighing down his wrist – Penny spotted it because she knew Uncle David had once bought a similar one for Eric, who had made him take it back because, he said, ‘Nobody needs five grand to tell the time, you big twat.’
Playboy, was her assessment. He’s a total playboy. She could just about wager that if she looked him up on Instagram there’d be photo after photo of him in varying states of undress and in a smorgasbord of exotic locales around the country, if not the world. She bet none of them would feature a smile – only a pout – and that if he hadn’t applied for Love Island directly he had at least imagined that if he did, he’d get on it. He was that kind of man. That kind of playboy.
‘I don’t get to come home too often,’ the playboy said to her, reaching out a hand, inviting her to shake it, ‘and truly, I’ll miss it all the more now I know what my local has become. My compliments,’ he added. ‘This was the best meal I’ve had in a long time. And sorry we were so loud. There’s no excuse. We’re just a bit twattish after a drink.’
Penny didn’t stand, but extended a hand in return.
‘You’re very kind,’ she said, primly. ‘Thank you.’
He waited for her to say something else, but Penny refused. She was knackered, emotional, and didn’t have time for men who acted like louts and drunk drove.
‘Did you grow up here?’ the playboy pressed. ‘The barperson – they said something about you being related to Dave?’
‘David,’ Penny responded, taking the last drag of her cigarette.
‘Oh, yes. David. I called him Dave – it was a bit of a joke between us.’
Penny stood to go back inside and take that nap she’d promised herself.
‘Not very talkative today?’
Penny raised her eyebrows. ‘I’m just tired, and have a lot to do.’ She knew she was being overtly stand-offish, so also added: ‘Thank you so much for telling me you enjoyed it. Have a good afternoon.’
He wouldn’t let her go.
‘You weren’t at Havingley School, were you?’ he said to her back. ‘I feel like I recognize you.’ She turned around again to face him. ‘How old are you?’
Penny audibly exhaled. ‘I just had my birthday. I’m thirty-one. And yes, I was.’
Penny narrowed her eyes, trying to place him. ‘Did you used to go out with Veronica Meadows?’
The playboy – Thomas – let out a hoot. ‘Yes! Verny! She’s married now, to her university boyfriend. Got two kids and a big house in Sheffield.’
‘Good for her,’ Penny said. ‘I mean, unless she left you for the man she’s married to now. In which case, sucks to be you.’ The playboy laughed.
‘No, no, we were long over. I think I might have snogged her mate, actually. All very immature.’
‘How shocking.’
‘Hey, don’t judge me on one loud lunch. I said sorry!’
‘Well. Anyway. I really do have to go. And you guys should call cabs.’
Thomas nodded. ‘Listen, um. I’m around for a couple of weeks,’ he continued. ‘I’m in the music business and it can all get a bit crazy, so I keep the house out here to remind me to calm down a bit. You know, when I get a bit carried away and all that.’
‘Party boy,’ Penny said, but it wasn’t a question. She’d seen how many empty bottles there were – although, to his credit, talking to him didn’t feel like talking to a drunk. His eyes weren’t glazed or anything.
‘I don’t really drink, actually. I’m designated driver. Definitely don’t do drugs. I think I’d get addicted – I’ve got an addictive personality. Workaholic, more like,’ he replied. ‘I just love what I do.’
Penny smiled. ‘That, I understand,’ she admitted.
‘You can tell. Your food – you’re really good.’
‘Cheers,’ Penny said. They stood. Out of politeness more than a real desire to talk to him she commented, ‘The music industry sounds cool, though.’
‘It is. It’s as cool as you’d expect. I’ve been working with Lizzo for years and years – do you know her? – and then two years ago she got massive and it’s just been the wildest time since then. We’ve been everywhere.’
‘Lizzo?’ said Penny, her interest piqued. ‘What do you do for Lizzo? I love her! I literally had her album on when I was cooking your food.’
‘Oh, no way, really? I can get you tickets to one of the UK shows soon if you want. I’m her tour manager,’ he said with a boyish enthusiasm.
‘Her album is brilliant,’ Penny said. ‘That song “Jerome” – urgh. That’s my shower song. In my imagination when I am in the shower I am Lizzo.’
Thomas chuckled.
‘No, actually, more than that – I am Lizzo at Glastonbury,’ Penny continued. ‘Bottle of tequila in one hand, microphone in the other …’
‘Yeah, she killed it that afternoon,’ he agreed. ‘We were all on cloud nine after that.’
‘You were there?’
‘I was. And I’m not even going to pretend I’m not smug about it. Like I said, I love what I do.’
‘It’s written all over your face,’ Penny acknowledged.
Thomas sensed the change in Penny’s tone, then, and changed tack with her. ‘Do you get much time away from here?’ he said, hopefully. ‘I like to go walking, try to stay out in the fresh air a lot when I’m back. I’m sure you’re very busy but, in case, you know, you aren’t. If you want to hang out.’
‘That’s a kind offer,’ said Penny. She wanted to tell him she had plenty of friends, and not a lot of time off, but in that split second she realized the only friend she really had in Havingley was Charlie – and they were an employee, too. Everybody else was a phone call or FaceTime or voice note away, and whilst she was loved and heard and seen, very little of that was actually done in person. The realization of just how starved she was of physical human connection hit her then. She needed more friends. And she certainly needed more time away from the pub, which was hard when she was the one in charge. She’d only really even left Havingley a handful of times since arriving.
‘I would love to go out for a walk with you, actually.’ She meant it. She didn’t realize until he’d asked that she was longing for fresh air, and the outdoors, and, basically, time away from The Red Panda. No wonder she was feeling exhausted lately: she lived and breathed the place. Uncle David had been right.
‘Excellent. I’ll stop by sometime? We’ll walk?’
Penny nodded. It would do her good, she figured. ‘Yeah,’ she said. ‘Awesome.’
‘Okay, awesome.’
He went to say something else but then didn’t.
‘Awesome,’ he repeated, before one of his mates stuck his head around the corner and said,
‘Come on, Eddlington. I’m gagging for a piss.’
11
‘Hey sis,’ said Clementine over a voice note. ‘I know you’ve been feeling rotten, and I’m just so sorry. Your new walking buddy sounds great, though! Like a good distraction. We can’t wait to see you on Boxing Day! I miss you. I know it’s only a small consolation but Uncle David said how happy he is the place is in good hands. I think it really does bring him comfort, you know. Everything is good here. I mean, we’re dangerously close to budget and I’m still trying to talk Stella out of the more expensive decisions but that’s project management! It never stops! Love you, sis. You’re doing so, so well. I … I wish I was there. I know me feeling guilty doesn’t help anything, but I think of you all the time.’
How’s it going, friend? Stoke Newington misses you! a text from Sharon read.
What about that for a view? said Uncle David in the family WhatsApp, attaching a photo of the sea meeting the horizon, as taken from a bench in his new garden.
Hiya! a text from Stuart said. We got sorted with the electrician and he’s coming out this afternoon, just to keep you in the loop Also, I know you said you didn’t want to know if Francesco came by again, but he just did. And he asked if I would tell you. He said he won’t bother you again after this. I don’t want to be piggy in the middle but I think he really wants to sort out whatever happened. I won’t mention him again. But yeah. Now you know.
‘Gah!’ said Penny, out loud and to nobody.
She wasn’t an idiot. She was smart enough and had enough counselling during ‘The Cancer Years’ to know how her brain tried to protect her from herself. Her dad left when he knew her mum was dying. Mo had been a coward about her own treatment – he knew what had happened to her mother and, it seemed to Penny, got out whilst he could. It was heartless and weird and it made Penny question her own judgement. And as soon as she’d seen that prick kissing another woman, it was like confirmation in her brain that she was right – men weren’t to be trusted. It was a waste to have faith. She’d used the absolute last of hers on that prick and he’d ruined it, with whoever that woman had been, so that was that. It didn’t matter if that was the truth or if it was a convenient way to emotionally distance herself from him and what they’d had, she was out. Would never let him into her heart again.
She did miss him as her mate, though.
‘Well,’ said Charlie, when Penny explained her psychological theory. ‘Maybe that means you can have him back as your friend. Obviously only you know if that’s possible, and if it’s what you really want. But, maybe if he hurt you romantically but you still miss talking to him, you really could just be friends.’
‘Does that make me an idiot?’ sighed Penny. She felt like an idiot. Stuart’s text about him stopping by had really got under her skin. She wished it could be water off a duck’s back.
‘I don’t think so,’ said Charlie. ‘You’ve got to do what works for you, haven’t you?’
‘Right,’ said Penny. ‘I just … don’t have that many friends. Not in a weird way, it’s just after I got sick, and having already moved around so much like chefs do … There was something he said to me that I think of all the time. That before anything else, we were buddies.’
‘Oh honey, you don’t have to justify yourself to me. All these movies and TV shows where everyone has this gang of mates that do everything together – it’s not real. That’s not how real life works. I h
ave two BFFs, my mum and dad, my brother when he’s not being a dick and, well, I guess you, now you’re back.’
‘Ahhhh, are you being soppy with me, Charlie?’
‘Bugger off,’ they said, rolling their eyes playfully. ‘You could text him, you know. It wouldn’t make you weak or anything. It’s obviously unfinished business, and friendship would be a nice olive branch to get closure.’
‘Maybe,’ said Penny.
‘More than maybe,’ said Charlie.
Penny scrunched up her face. ‘I hate that I still think of him. It makes me feel like I’m failing at being a strong, independent woman.’
‘If you think of him and wish he’d stand on an upturned plug, or that his boiler would break on Christmas Day, I think that’s “Upset You” talking. But if he made you laugh and you want a giggle and he adds something to your life rather than takes away, you’re in the safe zone. It’s not a failure to forgive somebody. It’s actually quite gracious.’
Penny nodded. ‘You give okay advice, you know.’
‘What a compliment,’ Charlie replied, smirking. ‘I can hardly stand how effusive your admiration for me is.’
* * *
Penny had no plan to where she was headed, but she knew she needed some fresh air before the day began. Ever since meeting that guy from school last week – Thomas – she’d been craving time away from work. She hadn’t realized how Red-Panda-centric she’d become. She’d slid into it consuming all her waking hours, and she knew it wasn’t healthy. She wondered if that’s why she obsessed over Francesco – she literally had nothing else to occupy her thoughts.
Penny made a left out of the car park, and took the first left after that. The air was cold but the sky was bright – her favourite kind of weather. If she couldn’t be on a sun-lounger by an infinity pool, England when it was like this was a close second. It made her consider if she should book a sun holiday for over New Year’s. Perhaps she would – Clemmie and Rima could even come, too. She passed a few dog-walkers and waved through the door of the butcher to her supplier, Freddie, and then made a right turn at the end of the lane. She hadn’t realized she was heading for where she’d used to loiter after school, where the village reached the fields that stretched for miles, but of course she was. It was an empty vast space that her bones just knew. She hopped over the stile and stood in front of the wide open fields, marvelling at the thawing frost and how the light bounced off the grass. They didn’t have endless green like this in London. It felt peaceful and freeing. She closed her eyes and let herself feel the brightness of the sun.
The Love Square Page 12
