CHAPTER THIRTEEN
The morning after the Magic of Dance launch day, I woke very early to the sound of someone trying to push something through the letterbox.
Drifting to full consciousness, I heard a car being driven away.
Curious, I got up and went out onto the landing. Peering down, I could see there was a brown envelope lying there on the mat.
It was probably a flyer of some kind. Local businesses were forever posting advertising material through the door. I turned to go back to bed, but then curiosity got the better of me and I ran downstairs, picked up the envelope and slit it open.
The contents, when I pulled them out, made me gasp in disbelief...
*****
I stared at the wad of ￡50 notes in my hand in utter bewilderment.
Splaying them out, I began counting the notes but gave up after twenty-three.
Who on earth would push an envelope that must contain around ￡2,000 through my door? Coincidentally, the amount we’d need if we were to clear our mortgage debt...
I walked slowly through to the kitchen and sank into a seat, placing the envelope – with the cash tucked neatly back inside it – on the table in front of me.
I knew who it was, of course. It wasn’t a coincidence at all.
The cash had to be from Minnie.
She was the only one who knew the extent of our debt. I’d confessed it to her during our emotional exchange about Dad the morning she’d come to see me, and she’d been quite determined to help us out as a kind of reward for Dad’s heroic action in saving her life.
I smiled, thinking about Minnie. She was one of life’s treasures.
But we definitely couldn’t accept it.
I’d have to find out where she lived and return it to her...
*****
Later that day, Clara phoned and asked me if I’d like to come over to the dance studio and interview for the job managing the café.
‘I’d love to!’ I gasped.
‘Great. Are you free tomorrow morning? About eleven o’clock?’
‘Absolutely.’
‘Lovely. Well, I look forward to seeing you then.’
When the call ended, I wandered around the house thinking about what it would be like, working in the café. Not that the job was mine yet. But it sounded hopeful.
And it would give me something to tell Dad about later. A bit of good news at last!
Of course, I had Xander to thank for speaking to Clara about me.
I thought about the previous day at Magic of Dance with a fond smile.
I wouldn’t have been able to face it on my own.
I’d have been too sad that Dad couldn’t be there with me.
But somehow Xander had made me forget my troubles – just for a few hours.
He’d managed to make me laugh, which was a miracle in itself, and he’d told me he’d always liked me.
But what about Dana, his ex? Had he really got over the break-up?
I seemed to remember they’d been together a long time before they’d broken up the previous year.
I hadn’t talked to him about Dana so I’d no idea how he was actually feeling about her now.
Xander had said it was a mutual decision to end things but just because you’d both agreed to call it a day, that didn’t mean it would be easier to bear – especially if you’d been together for years. ..
My mobile rang at that moment. It was Xander.
‘Hey, I was just thinking about you.’
‘That’s nice.’ There was a tiny pause. ‘Actually, I’ve... well, I’ve been thinking about you, too,’ he said.
‘Yes?’
‘Yes. So what were you thinking?’ he asked cheerfully.
‘Well, I was... I was just thinking I’d never asked you about Dana and if you were over her.’
‘Oh, right.’ He sounded a bit deflated.
‘It’s just I know it took me a while to get over Les, in spite of the horrible way it ended.’
‘Of course.’
It sounded as if he didn’t want to talk about Dana, so I quickly changed the subject. ‘By the way, guess what? I’ve got an interview at the Little Duckling Café tomorrow morning.’
‘Oh, wow, that’s great, Anika. I’m so pleased for you.’
‘Thanks! I’m keeping my fingers crossed.’
‘I’ll do the same.’ He cleared his throat. ‘Erm... I was actually phoning to see if you fancied going to the ballet with me tomorrow night. If you’re free?’
‘The ballet ?’ I chuckled. ‘Xander, have you fallen and bumped your head?’
He laughed. ‘No, I’m just intrigued to see what I’ve been missing.’
‘So you actually want to go and see people “prancing around in tights and tutus”?’
‘Yes, I do. As long as you’re there to tell me what the hell’s going on.’
‘So you’ve got tickets?’
‘Not yet. I thought I’d check with you first. But they’ve had a couple of cancellations for tomorrow night’s performance of Sleeping Beauty.’
‘Oh. Well...’ I hesitated, longing to say yes because I loved the ballet and going with Xander would be fun. But I knew it was impossible.
‘Are you worried about your dad?’
‘Well, yes. I’ve been spending time with him most evenings. What if I’m not there tomorrow night and he thinks I’ve abandoned him?’
‘He’d never think that,’ Xander murmured. ‘It might even make him happy imagining you out at the ballet.’
‘I suppose so,’ I said doubtfully.
I really wanted to go. But I felt guilty at the thought of enjoying myself while Dad was lying alone in the hospital.
‘You’d be able to tell him all about it afterwards,’ Xander pointed out. ‘Look, obviously it’s up to you how you feel about it. But I just thought that with everything you’re going through at the moment with your dad, it might give you a bit of a lift to do something for yourself just this once?’
I sighed. ‘I mean, you’re right. And I like the idea of telling Dad all about it, before and afterwards. You never know, it could stimulate something in his brain... make that vital difference...’
‘It might.’
‘Is it expensive, though? I can’t really afford –’
‘I’ll get the tickets,’ he interrupted. ‘You can pay me back some time – once you’re working again. At the café.’
I smiled. ‘You sound very positive about that.’
‘I am. You seem to be exactly who Clara’s looking for.’
‘Maybe.’ After everything that had happened lately, I was finding it hard to trust in anything working out well these days.
‘So . . . shall I get the tickets?’
‘Okay,’ I said at last. ‘Xander, I’d love to come to the ballet tomorrow night and demystify it for you! I’ll go and see Dad beforehand and then meet you at the theatre, okay?’
‘Sounds good. Although I could collect you if you like? Take you to the hospital and then drop you back home after the ballet?’
‘Oh, no, you don’t need to do that. You wouldn’t have time after work anyway.’
‘I’ve actually got the day off tomorrow, so it’s not a problem.’
I smiled fondly. Why was this guy so great, always thinking of other people?
‘I’d be happy to do it,’ he insisted.
‘But what would you do while I was in the hospital seeing Dad?’
‘I’d catch up with a mate of mine I haven’t seen in ages. Years, in fact. Dana didn’t like him and he wasn’t that keen on her either, so we kind of lost touch. But I called him the other day and we said we’d meet up some time.’
‘Right.’
‘So you see, you’d be doing me a favour in a way.’
I chuckled. ‘Okay. You’ve twisted my arm. That would be lovely, Xander. In fact, why not come over a little early and I’ll cook you a late lunch once I’m back from my interview with Clara?’
‘Lunch?’
‘Yes. I could make you a proper nutritious meal.’
‘Sounds good.’
‘I’ve been worried about you.’
‘You have?’
‘All those stodgy, sugary pastries in cafés can’t be good for you.’
‘They taste nice, though.’
‘Of course they do. But you should be aiming for “occasional treat” not “gob them all down because I’m not sure when I’ll next get the chance to eat”.’
‘Ah, so that’s where I’m going wrong.’
‘I should teach you how to cook, really. You were spoiled by Dana making all your meals. Can you even throw a spaghetti Bolognese sauce together?’
He groaned. ‘That sounds way too complicated. All those herbs. And I burn eggs, remember?’
‘That’s just an excuse. You’re a grown man, Xander. You need to be able to cook for yourself.’
He sighed. ‘I can’t deny it would be useful. I’m fed up with beans on toast, and ham and mustard sandwiches.’
‘Right. I’ll make spaghetti Bolognese for lunch tomorrow,’ I said firmly. ‘That can be your first cookery lesson.’
Later, when I went out in Dad’s car to get the ingredients, I was wandering through the plants and flowers section of the supermarket when an unusual-looking, spiky plant caught my eye and for some reason, I thought of Xander.
I’d been thinking I’d like to buy him a little gift to show him my appreciation for taking me to the ballet, and that plant would be perfect.
It seemed to stand out from the crowd just like Xander.
When I got to the till, I was pleased to find it was on sale, marked down to half-price.
Its spiky leaves tickled my nose as I placed it in the well of the passenger seat. But it was only when I got it home and placed it on the hall table in the glare of a table lamp that I realised why it had been reduced in price. Some of the leaves were already turning brown.
Disappointed, I put it down to experience and fetched some water to try and revive it.
I’d have to think of some other way to thank Xander for my night at the ballet...