Date Saturday 14 January Time 10.15am
My thoughts and reflections:
So, not one to complain and obviously I have every confidence in the Universe’s decisions as well as unstinting gratitude and this is not me in any way, shape or form questioning her infinite wisdom, but I have to confess I was slightly surprised this morning when, after being confronted with Matthew Lloyd’s face in the centre of my visioning board upon waking, I went downstairs only to find the real Matthew Lloyd actually in the kitchen.
Looking very pleased with himself.
To be completely clear, that was not what I was trying to manifest.
He and Astrid were sitting opposite one another, drinking coffee companionably, the papers spread out in front of them, deep in conversation; he looked totally at home and, frankly, they could have passed for some kind of advert-perfect couple.
There was a swordblade of sunlight slanting straight through the enormous roof light and illuminating the side of Matthew’s face, making his skin dazzle like he had been chosen.
When he bent his dark head closer to hers to see whatever she was pointing out in the newspaper, I felt a stab of something sharp lodge in my side. Astrid noticed me first.
‘Hey, Alice,’ she said. ‘Do you want a croissant? Matthew went out and bought them from Laurents.’
Of course I wanted a croissant. They looked like buttery, flaky deliciousness. But it seemed wrong to take one. Clearly it was him I had heard late last night, not Aziz. So I said crossly, ‘No, I don’t. You know I’m Paleo.’
Astrid squinted at me through her hair, which had fallen over her eye. ‘You had pizza the other night. And doughnuts?’
‘It was a break-out day. Why is your hair down? You never have it down.’ She always wears her hair back unless she’s going out. Was this some kind of bid for sexy?
‘I don’t know,’ said Astrid. ‘And why are you asking like that? You’re being weird.’
‘ You’re being weird actually. Sitting here with your hair down, having breakfast with him. What’s he even doing here?’
‘ He is staying here.’ Astrid tucked her hair behind her ear. ‘Not that it’s any of your business.’
‘Morning, Alice,’ said Matthew, without looking up. ‘Lovely to see you too.’
I didn’t look at him either. Self-satisfied giant. ‘Staying here?’ I said, appalled. ‘Why?’
‘Because I said he could,’ said Astrid. ‘He’s got loads of meetings in London this week.’
‘This week ?!’
‘Yes. Problem?’
She gave me a cold stare, indicating that there had better not be a problem and that I was starting to piss her off.
‘No, no,’ I said, going over to switch on the Fisher & Paykel bean-to-cup coffee machine (absolutely gorgeous and I got loads of likes when I shared some photos of my morning coffee routine last week, not that I’ll ever be able to afford my own one).
‘I just thought Matthew would have preferred a hotel, what with his hotel hobby, that’s all. And everyone loves a hotel breakfast.’
‘Yeah, well, we’ve got croissants here,’ said Astrid, defensively. ‘And coffee. You don’t mind, do you, Matthew?’
Matthew shook his head. ‘Great service so far. Croissants are good. I’m happy.’
I set my cereal bowl on the side a little too loudly. ‘Shouldn’t you be eating croissants with Etta instead of Astrid?’
‘What is up with you this morning, Alice?’ said Astrid, frowning. ‘Let’s not descend to retrograde misogyny – you know her name.’
But Matthew Lloyd didn’t even look up from the paper. ‘Nah,’ he said. ‘Ebba doesn’t eat croissants.’
‘Well, who doesn’t eat croissants,’ I huffed under my breath, fetching the milk from the fridge.
‘People following a Paleo diet,’ said Matthew calmly. ‘Like you.’
‘Well, yes, of course. If she’s Paleo like me, that makes sense.’
‘Not that like you,’ said Matthew. ‘She actually does follow a Paleo diet.’
Astrid laughed.
I retrieved a spoon and slammed the drawer shut, but because it’s soft-close it didn’t make a sound.
Normally I love the soft-close. ‘Actually, I do follow it quite strictly,’ I said, carefully measuring a level teaspoon sugar into my coffee.
‘I tend to stick to grains, nuts and berries for my breakfast.’
Matthew looked briefly up, stared at me so intently that my hand wobbled and I spilled my coffee, then returned to his paper.
‘You’re absolutely right, Alice,’ he said.
‘What self-respecting caveperson didn’t sit down to Jordans Country Crisp and a flat white on a Saturday morning?
By the way, you’ve got coffee all down your top. ’
God, that man makes my blood boil.
Astrid’s phone started buzzing. I glanced over surreptitiously from where I was stationed by the coffee machine, and saw Aziz’s name flash up on the screen. I also saw Astrid look at her phone, pause and then turn it over.
‘Aren’t you going to answer that?’ I said pointedly. ‘Might be important? What if it’s Aziz?’
‘It’s not,’ lied Astrid, pulling back her chair, decisively. ‘So, Matthew,’ she said. ‘What shall we do today?’
I felt so bothered by the whole situation that I ended up taking my breakfast back up here to my room.
What is Astrid playing at? I have no idea why she’s ignoring Aziz, and as much as I know that Aziz and Matthew are friends too, it doesn’t feel right Matthew being here on his own with Astrid, when Astrid’s treating Aziz like this.
Maybe the solution is to make sure that Matthew isn’t on his own with Astrid… ?
Action: I shall spend this weekend selflessly protecting my sister’s virtue, by being a ‘chaperone’ in the vein of Little Women . (Or, as we’d say today, a ‘cockblock’.)
I am letting go of:
Matthew’s childish attempts to rile me. Jordans Country Crisp is wholegrain and it really clearly says on the package ‘tasty by Nature’. Plus I had it with soya milk.