Chapter Twenty-Six
Preoccupied as she walks into the bar, Anika only realises she’s early when she doesn’t spot the regal figure of her mother accompanied by the contrastingly workaday presence of Philip.
The place is quiet and in the absence of anyone at the front desk, Anika heads over to the gold-and-glass bar and perches on one of the stools.
‘What can I get for you, miss?’ the tall, black-aproned barman asks. Just as Anika is ordering a large glass of the house white, she hears a surprised voice call her name.
‘Anika? Anika Lapo?’
Peering in between the bottles stacked in front of the mirrored wall behind the bar, Anika sees the reflection of the person who was speaking. She squints, her recollection faltering a moment before she realises …
‘Hattie?’ Anika spins around on her stool, smiling.
Hattie Mukherjee was elegant back at university, especially for a student, but now even more so – the bohemian qualities have ironed out into sleek, beautiful maturity.
Hattie started out as a rival during their critique sessions in North American literature classes, but they became semi-flirtatious friends over their final year.
The fluidity of Hattie’s sexuality was a source of envy for Anika, her friend’s candid confessions of hook-ups never salacious, always matter-of-fact.
It sparked a curiosity in Anika that she’s never acted upon, but showed what might be possible if she could ever move outside of her self-imposed restrictions and expectations.
From the way Hattie is already eyeing her, there are some mutual memories stirring.
‘Oh my God, I thought that was you. It’s been years. What brings you to Stone’s?’
‘I’m meeting my mother,’ Anika replies, before slipping off the stool to stand in front of her old friend. ‘Shit, how mad is this? Are you—?’
Hattie smooths the sleeveless teal dress that is hugging every curve of her hips and bust, the wattage of her smile flaring and then settling into a subtle curve of her burgundy-painted lips. ‘I’m the manager here. For now, anyway. I just moved over from the Mayfair branch to oversee the opening.’
‘Yeah, my mum said this place was new. I’ve not been here yet. Obviously.’
Didn’t she write something in the diary about being smooth and confident today?
‘You look fantastic.’ It slips out before Anika can play it cool.
But it’s true – Hattie’s long, straight dark hair is tinged with slight hints of auburn that almost match the bronzed hue of her skin.
She was the only half-Bengali, half-Ivorian person that Anika knew.
Hattie outstretches her arms and Anika steps into them, drawing in the scent of jasmine that was always her friend’s signature scent, but was now mingled with something smokier, more sensual.
Jesus. The rapid uptick in desire takes Anika by surprise.
Maybe it’s the thoughts she’s been having about Cam being displaced here, but the delicate kisses Hattie places on each of her cheeks feel deliberately slow.
‘It’s great to see you,’ Hattie says, still close. ‘What are you up to? I remember you’d just left the record shop and got a job at a radio station last time I saw you?’
Gratitude surges in Anika’s chest at having tangible progression to report. ‘Funny you should say – I just got a new job today. Playlist and Curation Specialist at SpinRadio.’
‘Sick! That sounds super fancy. Loads of reasons to celebrate then.’ Anika is very conscious of Hattie’s hand still resting on her waist. She turns her head just in time to see her mother and Philip coming through the door of the bar.
‘Ah. Hello, darling,’ her mother calls, and Anika follows the trajectory of Nella’s gaze to Hattie, then to Hattie’s hand. Anika thinks about moving away, remembering that some of her curbed instincts weren’t entirely internal – but then deliberately stays put.
‘Hi,’ Anika says, hugging her mum and giving Philip a bloodless peck. ‘All right?’
Hattie springs into action, graciously welcoming Nella and Philip.
‘We have a lovely table here by the window for you,’ she says, grabbing some menus from the holder by the door and leading them through the bar, which is slowly beginning to fill up with the post-work and pre-theatre crowd.
Philip pulls out a chair for his wife while Hattie watches indulgently, catching eyes with Anika, those full lips curving secretly.
‘Now, not that we need much of an excuse, but I think we have a few things to celebrate.’ Anika is relieved that Hattie hasn’t spilled the beans on her news.
‘I’d love to get you all a glass of bubbly to start you off – or we have a wonderful elderflower fizz if alcohol isn’t your tipple?
On the house, if you’ll allow me to join you in a very brief toast to pleasant surprises? ’
Anika nods enthusiastically. ‘Some bubbles would be great.’ Hattie turns to signal to the barman.
Nella is dressed in a summery pale-green ensemble of linens and layers, and her eyes flit between her daughter and the other woman as she shrugs out of her light cardigan. Anika notes its designer label.
‘Hattie went to uni with me.’ Anika’s explanation is enough to allow her mother to relax and embrace the special treatment, beaming a much more welcoming smile Hattie’s way.
‘This is very kind of you, Hattie!’
The barman comes over with a tray full of drinks, including the white wine Anika had ordered and abandoned, and Hattie helps him deposit them onto the table before taking up one of the coupes for herself.
‘Cheers! Welcome to Stone’s,’ she says, leaning down to clink her glass first to Nella’s, then Philip’s.
But when it’s her turn, Anika makes deliberate, pointed eye contact, maintaining it over the rim of her glass as she sips.
‘I’ll leave you all to enjoy,’ Hattie says with a purr. ‘Please don’t hesitate to let me know if you need anything. Oh, and, Anika, make sure you come and find me before you leave, yeah?’ She glides away and all three of them are slightly mesmerised as they watch Hattie go.
‘Lovely girl,’ her mother says, like they weren’t just in the presence of someone never more befitting of the phrase all woman.
‘Yes!’ Philip is quick to agree. Noticing Anika’s stare, he concentrates on sipping his drink and perusing the wine list.
‘Good to run into her,’ Anika says, reaching in for a toothpick to stab one of the fat olives that have been placed in a bowl in the centre of the table. ‘So, how are you guys? Looking forward to the show?’
Philip nods, chewing his own olive, but her mother ignores the question.
‘They do casual Friday at your office?’ she asks, tugging the open collar of Anika’s oversized light-blue denim shirt.
Anika rolls her eyes. Philip flags down a waiter and orders a bottle that Anika spots on the menu costs over forty-five pounds.
She regrets ordering the house white, downing it quickly and then sipping on the glass of Prosecco sat in front of her.
‘Your friend is right – it is good to see you,’ Nella continues, squeezing her daughter’s arm. ‘What is it she thinks it is time to celebrate?’
‘Oh,’ Anika says, smiling down into her glass and trying to seem nonchalant. ‘I got the job!’
Nella’s palms clap together loudly as she matches the beam of Anika’s smile. ‘Ah, my daughter! I am impressed, oh! Anika! So fast, too. You are on a new path now.’
It’s not incorrect, Anika can’t deny it, and her mother’s genuine pride indicates the diary is working.
‘So, what will you be doing in the new job, then?’ Philip asks, now scooping peanuts from the other bowl like they’re about to sprout legs and depart.
Anika begins to explain the curator role, and soon the waiter returns with the expensive wine and pours out some glasses.
Philip moves one closer to her mother, who gives her husband a loving smile.
It really was unfair to think ill of this union.
It’s just hard for Anika to shake the mentality of her childhood.
She could still remember the hushed, irritated calls she overheard her mother make.
‘Nelson, why do you think I am asking? It’s not only every other month that she is your daughter …
’ Nella now has luxury and security, and she deserves it.
They chat for another half hour or so, until Nella reminds her husband that they don’t want to rush to get to the theatre.
Philip quickly settles the bill, leaving half of the pricey wine still in the bottle.
As they gather up to leave, Anika gives her mother a tight hug goodbye and then an equal embrace to Philip this time, hoping to communicate her gratitude through that even if she can’t quite do it in words.
He and her mum set off to their evening’s entertainment, but regretfully there’s no sign of Hattie as Anika waves them off and lingers over her drink.
When her friend does emerge, she’s in a seemingly stressful conversation with the head barman.
The place is starting to heave with people and so Anika decides to call it a day, catching Hattie’s eye and blowing her a goodbye kiss with a regretful shrug.
‘Are you on the same number?’ Hattie mouths, and Anika nods. ‘I’ll call you.’
Outside, dusk is only just making itself known in the burnished pinks and oranges of the summer evening sky, but she’s buzzing with the wine and not ready to head home yet.
The lure of late-night shopping and the continuing desire to treat herself win out.
Selfridges is a towering beacon, and, pushing open one of the side doors into the iconic building, Anika welcomes the sheet of cool air that envelops her.
The number of people inside is dwindling and Anika remembers her freshly cleared credit card and her newly minted status as a future broadcasting doyenne.
Because you’re worth it, she thinks with an inward smirk.
She truly means it, though. She eyes the dark-skinned security guard her uncle’s age as he begins to shuffle along the pathway towards the shoe department, following her, and she shakes her head ruefully. It be your own people sometimes.
Swiftly breezing through the department, she selects three shoes whose price tags would ordinarily make her eyes water.
Anika requests her size from the eager assistant and tries each of them on.
When she observes the tautness of her calves in a classic pair of towering black patent Louboutins, she knows what has to be done.
She makes sure to swing her yellow shopping bag pointedly as she passes the guard who was monitoring her.
I belong here. She’s just pulling out her phone to work out her best route home when her phone starts to buzz.
For a moment, somewhat stupidly, she feels a jolt of excitement wondering if it might be a message from Cam.
Realising it’s an incoming call, she looks at the name on her screen and smiles. Hattie Mukherjee.
‘Hattie?’
‘Hey. Yeah, it’s me. Listen, I … I don’t suppose you’re still in town?
’ Anika can hear traffic noise on the other end of the line.
Closer in, she can also hear Hattie suck in and exhale the smoke from a cigarette – a habit from their uni days that she must have held on to.
‘I’m finishing up early tonight. Thought I’d see if you fancied another drink, one-on-one?
I’ll be done in half an hour or so. I’d love to …
catch up.’ Her voice drops low as she finishes.
Anika remembers another line she wrote in the diary, along with her affirmation for a Fun Friday: Today I decided that whatever crossed my path that promised pleasure, I’d leap at it.
Maybe Hattie is a distraction from Anika’s true desires, but a certain radio DJ isn’t here right now and she’s not sure where they stand – whereas Hattie isn’t exactly making her intentions unknown.
And I’m meant to be trying new things, right?
‘I’d love that,’ Anika replies. ‘Do you remember that place Sigmund’s?’ She thinks back to a heady night that got them the closest to a real dalliance during one winter break.
‘Yeah. I do.’ The tone of Hattie’s voice told Anika she remembered, too. ‘See you there at nine?’
‘Perfect.’