Chapter 11
CHAPTER 11
L evi
I sit back from the table, absolutely stuffed. It’s a good feeling, but I’m sure I’ve put on several pounds since I’ve been living with Marina.
“That was delicious,” I say, and Marina smiles.
“Well, I thought I knew what mac n cheese was until I went to America, then I learned what we had here was a poor cousin. I found the best mac n cheese in a diner out in Idaho and begged the owner to tell me his secret. I’ve been making it that way ever since.”
“I didn’t know you’d been to the States.” I’m surprised but maybe I shouldn’t be; I don’t know much about Marina’s past. It just seems a bit out of character for the lady who has a neat, quaint cottage with a beautiful garden and loves knitting. Though that might explain her obsession with old American cop shows.
“It was a long time ago.” She laughs it off and gets up to clear the dishes and fill the kettle for a cup of tea, but I’m intrigued.
“Tell me about it. How old were you?”
She doesn’t say anything more, and I think she won’t until she’s made two mugs of tea and placed her latest round of baking on the table—chocolate chip cookies. I’m seriously going to have to do something about making sure I don’t put on weight.
She sits down opposite me and cradles her mug in both hands.
“I was young—just turned twenty-one. I’d finished university and I wanted to see something of the world before I started working. America seemed like the promised land, full of hope, so I spent eight months travelling. I visited eighteen states. Some of them I just passed through, but some I stayed for a while.”
“Sounds like an adventure.”
She blows across her tea to cool it before taking a sip.
“It was incredible. I saw the Grand Canyon and partied on the Strip. I hiked in Yellowstone National Park to see Old Faithful and tried surfing in Malibu. I rode the streetcars of San Francisco and listened to concerts in Carnegie Hall. I toured the French quarter of New Orleans and walked the Golden Gate Bridge. I saw desert as far as the eye could see and more snow than I could ever imagine. I spent a week on a cattle ranch and stood in Times Square on New Years Eve. I soaked in the culture and fell in love with the American diner. It was the trip of a lifetime.
“Did you ever go back?”
She gives me a rueful smile. “No, once was enough. Let’s just say I had my fill of America.”
It sounds amazing and I want to ask her more but she changes the subject.
“Now, tell me, have you had any luck finding a course?
With her encouragement I’ve been looking into hospitality programmes—something local that doesn’t require me to have passed many exams to be able to join. I’m not stupid, and I did some GCSEs while I was in juvie, but nothing past the basic Maths and English. It wasn’t the best environment for learning and I could never stick at anything that didn’t interest me.
I open my laptop, which I bought secondhand from Darla—a small purchase I allowed out of my savings as I knew I was going to need it. I’m pretty sure she undervalued it when she sold it to me too. At first she said I could have it, but I don’t want to rely on anyone’s charity. I show Marina the possible courses and she talks them through with me, then we narrow it down to a couple that look good and I make a note to contact the colleges in the next few days.
She’s been amazing in the few weeks I’ve been here, always supportive and helpful. Not to mention she’s introduced me to the world of NYPD Blue, CSI, and an oldie called TJ Hooker, which I hate to admit I like best.
She seems like the perfect mum to me. Even thinking about how different she is to mine brings a lump to my throat. I don’t understand why Mac doesn’t speak to her. It irritates me that he can’t see how lovely she is.
One morning, I find her baking in the kitchen. She’s making a traybake to take to her knitting group later.
“Why doesn’t Mac come and visit?” I ask, trying to sound neutral.
She gives a little sigh and stops stirring her mixture, but she doesn’t turn round.
“He has his reasons. I can’t really blame him.”
“I can!” I exclaim, and this time she does turn her head to me.
“You’re a sweet boy, Levi.”
Not something I’ve ever been called before; I’m anything but sweet. But I am annoyed that he would do this to her.
She returns to her mixing, with a little more force than before.
“I did something very foolish and I didn’t deal with it at the time. I wish I could go back and change the past but what’s done is done. There’s no point dwelling on it now.”
I hear the sadness in her voice and I feel a new level of anger. My family was shitty, and I have every reason to have nothing to do with them, but Mac chooses to do this to her. I don’t care that she says he has his reasons, surely they can’t be that bad. I try to keep a lid on my anger, but it follows me to work making me spiky with the customers until Darla intervenes.
“Whatever it is, don’t bring it to work,” she hisses at me. “I will not have my customers treated like that.”
I grit my teeth. I know she’s right but I feel like I want to punch something.
She glares at me. “Take five minutes, and when you return, make sure you’ve left it behind. Otherwise, don’t come back.”
I understand her perfectly, and I can’t trust myself to speak so I nod and leave, going out into the alley behind the pub. I’m reminded of how I swung at Mac, wanting to pierce his calm shell, and I allow myself a grimace. I managed it too, but unleashed something else that can’t be put back in the box. I lean against the wall and take a few deep breaths, and the cool of the bricks on my back in the autumn night takes some of the heat out of my ire. Darla’s right of course, and I’ll never make it in hospitality if I can’t keep my cool. I take another deep breath. I still want to hit out at Mac, but the feelings get jumbled up by the overwhelming pull that tugs on me whenever he’s close. I want his hands on my body, his mouth on my—I stop there or I won’t be able to go back inside for a completely different reason. I push off from the wall and walk back inside, willing my semi to have disappeared by the time I make it back to the bar.