5. Faye
5
FAYE
It was pitch black outside when Faye staggered into her frigid flat, feet sore and legs aching from the restless day. She touched the awkwardly placed radiator in her tight squeeze of a hallway, only to find that no magical fairy had broken in and fixed the unreliable nuisance in the time she’d been at work.
“Stupid thing.”
She dropped her purse and keychain laden with panic alarms and personal safety items onto the table in the middle of the pint-sized kitchen-come-living-room, if she could determine where her kitchen began, that was. With its worn-down cabinets and flaking window frames, her flat on the ground floor of this converted old house consisted of only a bathroom, bedroom, and whatever this space was supposed to be called. She flicked on the kettle for some tea and a hot water bottle whilst she was at it.
Faye adored her job, but being on her feet from before sunrise to after sunset took a toll upon her twenty-nine year old lower back.
Bash had messed about with her boiler at the weekend and managed to temporarily get it going again, but she was still sure it would kick the dust completely at any moment. Her heating company had been useless in sending someone out on this side of Christmas to help her, and no local freelance technician within her price range who she’d phoned had any slots available, either. Bash had offered to pay. In fact, he’d insisted. But she wouldn’t let him.
Though now, as she stood semi-warm with her radiators on half their output to not overwhelm her knackered heating system, Faye thought that maybe her pride had been too strong that day.
She hadn’t seen Bash since three nights ago when they’d ran together, and she’d begun to think that maybe she didn’t want her heating problem to be solved so the offer of a long weekend in the countryside with him and his family wasn’t wiped off of the cards.
The less delusional half of her fret over it.
When Bash got an idea he was like an excited puppy, and he’d been so intent on inviting her for Christmas that day in her bakery.
Not one thought of Christmas had crossed her mind until he’d swooped in like a mixer set to ‘pulse’ and upturned all of her plans to stay home with box sets and a meal for one. Faye didn’t want to ever dampen his spirit, and she really did ache for the company of any kind, rather than spending these days of Christmas alone whilst her family were all away.
Still, she couldn’t help thinking that despite the fact she knew the Phillips-Dumont family, it wasn’t well enough to spend days with them in their own home.
The bubbling kettle clicked off and vapour rushed from the spout. Faye fixed herself a hefty mug of chamomile tea, filled up her fleece-covered hot water bottle, donned pyjamas, and transplanted herself on her bed with the intention of not moving until tomorrow.
She hadn’t accounted for the fact that her phone might ring the second she’d taken the first soothing sip of tea. Her fingers searched above the bed covers, until she realised the ringing came from her purse … All of the way back in the kitchen .
Uttering something profane, Faye trudged to retrieve it.
“Ellie,” she said when she answered, albeit tiredly. “Hi.”
“There you are. I was about to call the police with you not picking up.”
“Sorry. I’d forgotten I’d left my phone in the kitchen.” A few times a week, her step-sister called to catch up, even if just for a few minutes. Always in the evenings when Faye was home from work and Ellie had gotten her toddler down for bed.
Her mother and El’s father had married after the fallout of their divorces when they were both still in primary school, with Ellie being two years older than her – both of them only-children of divorce. And all of a sudden she’d had a sibling. A sister.
“Are you okay?” Ellie asked. “You sound tired.”
Faye leant her bum against her kitchen table. “I’m just run off my feet. I could do with a massage.”
“You could do with taking a day off once in a while, Faye. These long hours every day aren’t good for your mind, nor your body.”
She’d heard this all before from her friends. “I wish I could.”
“You have other people working there don’t you? Why don’t you let them handle your least busy days?”
“I don’t know how to explain it, El, but I have to be there.” Something would fail if she wasn’t.
“And what about when you open up your new bakery, hm?” Ellie doubled down on logic. “Or if you’re sick? You can’t be in two places at once, though I know you’d strain something trying to be.”
Faye’s new Christmas plans sprung up in her mind – plans she’d given in to so easily when Bash’s French-accented English had added new rasps to his voice and awoken something distracting within her.
“I want you to promise me that you’ll take some days off, Faye,” Ellie pressed.
“Yeah … about th at …”
“Faye, spit it out. What’s wrong?”
She should’ve known Ellie would see right through her. After a long pause and a lot of wincing, Faye blurted, “Bash is taking me with him to his family’s house for Christmas.”
“What!” Ellie yapped like a seal piercingly enough to make Faye pull her phone away from her ear, then hushed herself as if she’d been reminded there was a two year old asleep. “Did you two finally get together and not tell me?”
“No. Bash knows I have no plans and he was just being nice. He invited me before I could refuse. Plus, my boiler is broken and I’m never going to be able to get it fixed over Christmas.”
“The last time I saw him, he couldn’t take his eyes off of you.”
“That was at your wedding and he knew nobody else. It was more likely he was looking at me for reassurance.”
“Bash doesn’t seem like the type of guy who needs reassuring. From everything you tell me, he’s the whole package.”
Faye didn’t want to think about Bash’s package . Not that she knew what he was like these days beneath his clothes, or anything … Oh, just stop it.
She clocked the dishes lined up beside her sink and her little baker’s heart reared its head and said: clean up, though all Faye wanted to do was fall into bed. If she left those pots now from her six a.m. breakfast, then she would just think about them all evening.
The only hot water she could get for the sink would have to come from her kettle, so she put her phone on speaker and filled it up again as she said, “Well, Bash never says it, but he’s more vulnerable than he lets on. He didn’t have a good time at school before moving to university, and I think it’s stuck with him.”
The noise of the kettle rattled so Faye brought her phone back to her ear and slipped into her bedroom.
“I notice how often he fusses to make sure his hair stays put,” she continued, “or how he shifts the front of his shirts. He’s never shown me a photo of what he looked like back then but he looks amazing now. I wish he wouldn’t worry about those things.”
Ellie went quiet, and Faye was about to ask if she was still there when?—
“You really care about him, don’t you?” El’s voice softened.
Faye swallowed. “I care about all of my friends.”
“All of your hot male friends.”
Ah, right back to usual then.
Faye took a deep, centering breath. “I never said that Bash is hot,” she argued, toying with the drawstring of her pyjama bottoms.
“But your eyes do every time I see you in a room together.” The smirk in El’s voice couldn’t have been more obvious.
“Oh shush.” A pillow on her bed was good to shove in place of El’s arm.
Her step-sister laughed. “He’s the most attractive guy that you know. You can admit it.”
“You have a husband, El, why are you noticing the attractiveness of other guys?” Turning the conversation around was Faye’s best tactic for moving past this conversation.
“I can buy one cake and still admire the others on the shelf too, but I’m still going to only eat the one that I bought.”
Her eyes rolled. “Please stop insinuating you’re eating Scott.”
“Well when he comes home from leg day, his glute pump is rather juicy?—”
Faye’s fingers went straight in her ears as she sing-songed, “I’m not listening to you.”
“Faye! Fine, I’ll stop.” Ellie paused for a fleeting, hope-filled moment. “Only if you accept you’re attracted to Bash.”
Would this merry-go-round ever end?
“ No .”
“Scott gets this really tight and juicy?—”
“Fine! God, stop .” Faye didn’t realise how much she’d scrunched up the pillow between her fingers. She released it and sat down on her sherpa-covered bed instead with a sigh.
She’d never said this out loud before, but Ellie wouldn’t let whether she wanted to sleep with her best friend go , otherwise. Not easily, anyway.
“I was attracted to Bash once , when we first met. But you know he dated Kiera all through that year and I wasn’t going to be that girl who tried to break up a perfectly happy relationship. So now we’re just friends.” Unfortunately. “Is Bash still attractive? Holy cow, yes.” Fortunately. “Am I going to ask him out? Definitely not.”
Denial was a river and Faye was in a one-woman canoe paddling upon it.
She’d tried to get over him. She really had. It’d just never quite worked out – though she couldn’t admit that to anybody. Ever . Any man she’d dated ever since Bash rooted himself into her life, she’d just shamefully strung along … Because Bash could never be hers, could he?
“We’re just friends,” she said. “We’ve only ever been friends.”
“Why though?” Ellie asked. “He’s single right?”
“He … dates?” Faye winced at the uncertainty of her own tone. Outside in her kitchen, the boiling kettle clicked off.
“Dates? You don’t sound confident.”
Bash’s love life was a bit of a mystery. Like Pandora’s box, Faye wanted to know what was inside, but for the sake of her own sanity she kept that lid firmly shut. Only accepting details if Bash offered them of his own accord. Otherwise, she stayed well away. Why taunt herself with that knowledge? Bash was her friend , not hers to cherish.
“Well, he seems to have a lot of … fleeting encounters.” It was the best way to describe the sort-of hookups, sort-of short term romantic trysts that Bash had.
“Fleeting encounters of the bedroom kind?” That smirk-filled voice again trailed down the phone.
Faye wasn’t as impressed. “Yes, those.”
“That doesn’t mean he wouldn’t commit if you asked him to.”
Ugh . She could only hope.
“I’m focussed on the bakery right now,” Faye deflected with the truth. Something she knew for certain.
“How’s that going? Did you win the lease for Manchester?”
Faye took a deep breath, because as of recently there were very few people who she’d told about her relocating plans. Of her friends, Maisie and Sienna were the only ones who knew, and the familiar sting of guilt split her stomach once more.
“Yes.” Before Ellie’s excited sounds could turn into a sleuth of ‘congratulations’ and questions, she cut in with, “And I’m wondering if it’s a mistake.”
The excitement on the phone vanished like a dropped doughnut on a London pavement; snatched up by pigeons in the blink of an eye.
“Why’s that?” Ellie’s seriousness was like when they were girls debating over which animated princess was the best. For all of their jokes and teases, they knew when to be earnest with one another.
“What if I’m doing this in the wrong order?” Faye’s heart picked up a beat just thinking that thought aloud. “What if I should focus on creating a larger menu than just doughnuts and the occasional brownie, first, and then consider opening another location?”
Her mind had tossed and turned ever since she began searching for potential tenancies outside of London. The move felt right and the timing was good. Her business plan she’d modelled with the help of her old university mentor was steady, and thanks to some recent television spots and online campaigns, Baked By The Dozen ’s profits rolled in. A second bakery to expand their reach to the north was the next big step.
But there were so many other things she wanted to try out too.
Expanding her menu would take a lot of investment; time in trialling recipes, money in bulk buying extra ingredients each week, and maybe new appliances for Baked ’s kitchen depending upon what turned out successful or not. She’d have Maisie rebrand their website and social media. Have new menus and signs printed for the interior. They might even have to look at finding additional cabinet space for displays, because she wanted her customers to be able to see for themselves and pick what was on offer.
It was all so much to think of, and combined with the new bakery in Manchester, Faye didn’t know what to do. With leaving London, it would be at least another six months before she would even consider expanding the menu again.
There was just too much … risk. Too few assurances. She wouldn’t take the chance without mulling it over for a million years.
“Why not both?” El offered. “There’s no right way to do this, so you just have to jump in. Expanding the menu is lower risk, yes?”
Knots of stress began to gather behind Faye’s forehead, even as she answered, “Yes.” She desperately needed the chamomile tea that most likely had gone cold.
“So you could try that too. You could make some new things for the Christmas market this week. You’re still doing that, right?”
“Yes …” Ellie’s suggestion actually wasn’t a bad idea. “I could do some experiments, I suppose.”
“It’d be a good way to get some customer feedback, or just see how popular they would be. Think of it as trialling a product before it’s released to the market.”
Trialling a product. Faye could do that. There wasn’t much time to perfect anything new, but she had a few original pastry recipes she knew wouldn’t need tweaking, and she’d played around with a stuffed cookie recipe a few months ago. All of the ingredients were already at the bakery and all that she’d need would be a few hours to bake at most.
“Thanks El.” Faye perked up as ideas began to churn in her mind. “I think I’ll do that. I’ve got nothing to lose except ingredients. ”
“You’re welcome. Now—” Faye’s mind said Oh dear at the firm change of Ellie’s tone – “don’t think that you can get away with leaving the topic of Bash and Christmas like you did.”
“El,” Faye drawled. “There’s nothing to say.”
“You don’t sound all that excited about it.”
“I am, I just … I’m—” Excited? Terrified? Worried she wouldn’t belong there? “Nervous.”
“You don’t have to go to Bash’s family’s house in—where is it?”
“Shropshire.”
“Oh that’s lovely,” Ellie crooned, “even when it's raining and miserable and anyway—” Faye’s brow jumped. She’d forgotten all about the boiled water for her dishes and went to fill the bowl in her sink. “I’d invite you to come with us to Scott’s parents’ for the few days over Christmas, but I don’t think there'd be space with his sisters there as well, I’m sorry.”
“That’s totally fine.” She squirted lemony liquid into the wash bowl and foamed up the suds with a dirty spoon. “I wouldn’t want to invade on Scott’s family anyway. Don’t worry about me.”
“So you’ll go with Bash?”
Was there even much of a choice at this point? Bash would be disappointed if she said ‘no’, but he wouldn’t force her to go. And as far as she knew, his parents were already making adjustments – happily and willingly, she’d been told – for her to stay with them.
Perhaps she was making a mountain out of a molehill? She always wished to have more time with Bash and here were four full days being offered to her freely. She’d be an idiot to turn them down.
“I think I will,” she said, then gently sighed with thoughts of how fun this Christmas will be.
“You better text me every day and tell me what’s happened. I fully expect you two to kiss under mistletoe at some point.”
Faye’s nose scrunched. “Do people still do that?”
“I think so?” El didn’t sound sure.
They shared a short laugh, until noise in the background sounded like Ellie’s two year old daughter had begun to cry the house down.
“You have to go,” Faye said.
“I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be. I’ll call you soon.”
“Okay. Love you.” Ellie’s voice was like a warm hug.
“Love you too.”