Chapter 5 #2
She went quiet, her gaze dropping back to her screen. She didn’t have active social media accounts but, despite being a self-declared sceptic, she did love to know what I was posting on my TikTok and occasionally logged into Facebook just to play Candy Crush.
With a little trepidation I set my bag between my legs and reached inside.
‘If you want,’ I began, ‘we can start to look through some of the CVs from the job ad. The agency has sent more, and some of them look promising.’
Pim didn’t even glance up. ‘Why would you open an Italian restaurant in Chinatown?’
I pressed on, undeterred by her avoidance of my question. ‘There are four candidates I would like to invite for interview.’ I swiped on the iPad to try and show her the details. ‘Perhaps next week we could…’
‘Italian food is so heavy on the stomach. Don’t you realise I’m going to be on stage in front of thousands in a few weeks.’ Her tone never wavered, making her sound surprisingly menacing.
‘One serving of gnocchi – your favourite – is not going to hurt,’ I said, waiting for the inevitable if-I-must eye roll. It didn’t come. She didn’t even look at me. Her thumb kept tapping the screen of her phone, eyes locked on whatever was flashing in front of her.
Defeated, I put the cover on my iPad and put it back in my bag, the rustling of my over-filled bag pockets filling the silence between us.
Almost as soon as I pulled the zipper on my bag closed, Pim dropped her phone in her lap.
‘I suppose one always puts weight on at Christmas time,’ she remarked, staring out of the window as we stopped in the inevitable traffic of Regent’s Street.
It would be quicker to walk, but God forbid I ever mention walking to Pim.
Public streets are for the public, not for household names.
I wondered if she knew that she was only a household name because Pimm’s was such a popular beverage in summer, or if she truly thought her acting career rivalled that of Judi Dench?
‘I certainly plan to,’ I said, letting the words settle between us. Food, I realised, had always been the one constant of Christmas I could rely on no matter where I ended up with Pim.
In Malta, I had devoured entire Maltese chocolate logs, my teeth sinking into cherries as I lounged about in bed, rewatching The Grinch for the hundredth time.
In Australia, we feasted on so many seafood barbecues on the beach that I had half expected to grow gills.
In Dubai, I had practically lived at the all-you-can-eat hotel buffet, drowning in turkey, mince pies, and every festive beverage under the sun.
And in New York, I’d learned that the city truly never sleeps… and neither did the chefs.
‘Christmas Day,’ she began, still not looking at me. ‘I’m thinking lunch at the Savoy and then dinner with the Redgraves?’
‘They’re away in Majorca.’ My head ached from remembering the schedules of all Britain’s most prominent acting families. ‘The Foxes have extended an invite.’
‘I just had dinner with them.’
‘Well, they said that you were more than welcome to join them this Christmas if you find yourself…’ I trailed off, but I didn’t need to finish the sentence. She’d caught the drift.
Her neck stiffened and she flinched. ‘Well, you and I will make do with the Savoy then. Maybe Gordon will cook it.’
‘Gordon’s with his family,’ I blinked. ‘And… and…’
‘And what? Spit it out!’ she said, as she picked up her phone again.
I took a deep breath. ‘I’m planning on spending Christmas with my friends this year.’
Technically, Christmas was a mandated bank holiday, but I’d never taken it off before.
There was always the stress of flights, baggage reclaim, the impersonal rush of travel.
But this year? I was finally home. I could hop on a train with Megan and head down to Kent to Denise and Bob’s, no hassle, no flight, just… home.
Pim didn’t say anything at first, the only sound between us was the tap of her fingers on her phone screen. We passed the familiar shops of Chinatown, the vibrant signs blurring in my peripheral vision.
‘I’ll be an orphan on my own this year,’ she said finally, her face unreadable.
The guilt landed instantly. Part of me hated how quickly it came, how easily my excitement shifted into something that felt selfish.
Immediately I felt myself opening my mouth to say that I could maybe spend the morning with her first…
but, before it came out, she added, ‘You can accept the Foxes’ invitation on my behalf, but only for the evening.
I quite like the sound of the Savoy lunch. And I’ll need to buy them gifts.’
I nodded, mentally adding it to the ever-growing list. ‘Of course.’
I felt my excitement rise again; she hadn’t even tried to get me to cancel my plans.
We sat in silence for a few moments, the car slowing as we neared our destination. I began to say, ‘You’d be more than welcome to…’ But Pim had already opened the door, the car barely stopped outside the restaurant.
‘Finally, we’re here,’ she said, a smile developing on her face like two strings were being pulled at the ends of her lips. ‘How lovely!’