Chapter 35
When Sabrina arrived at work the next morning, Flick was already designing something on a laptop on one of the tables. “I
presume this is your idea,” she said to Sabrina, beckoning her over. “What do you think?”
Have you enjoyed your meal at Teddy’s? If you have, tell the world (well, Tripadvisor). Email us a screenshot and we’ll give
you a free dessert or coffee when you come back (please make it soon x).
“Perfectly pitched, succinct, and witty.” Sabrina nodded with approval. Flick beamed. “Niccolo will be really good at getting
women to do this. ‘Come back soon so I can see your beautiful face again,’” she said, putting on an exaggerated accent.
Teddy appeared briefly in the kitchen doorway, dropped a “ Buon giorno ,” and then disappeared again before Sabrina could return the greeting. It was as if yesterday had never happened. She headed
for the toilets to begin her routine.
Well, that wasn’t awkward , thought Teddy.
Sabrina was back in her customary black cleaning getup, hair in a ponytail, but he’d dreamed last night that she was in nothing but his sheets and he’d woken up half convinced that if he rolled over, that’s where he’d find her in real ity.
He was so out of practice with anything beyond the platonic, it was pathetic.
Something had changed between them yesterday, and it unsettled him.
Did she sense that he’d been on the brink of leaning over and kissing her cheek as they were about to part, and that’s why she’d run off at a rate of knots, which at least had stopped him from making an arse of himself?
If he’d done that, and she’d let him, he would have said, “Shall we go out for a drink one night?” because it would have followed as naturally as breathing, but it hadn’t happened, and it was probably for the best because this wasn’t a normal situation.
She was vulnerable, she was lost, confused.
Them being anything other than what they were was a complication she obviously didn’t want and he really didn’t need.
Flick put “Operation Review” into practice that same day, and it could be no coincidence that two fresh five-star reviews
had been posted on the internet by the time they’d said goodbye to the last lunch customers.
“George, Sabrina thinks I should let you out of the kitchen to show your magic to customers,” said Teddy as they were sitting
around eating today’s special, polpette di carne .
“I will have to speak to my agent,” said George.
“Yes, yes, do it, Georgy,” said Niccolo. “But wear a mask so you don’t frighten the children.”
“All Italians want to be Greek,” said George and presented his profile to the boys. “See, from the side we are like Elvis.
You can’t compete with your Roman noses. Roamin’ all over your face.”
“Oh God, it’s kicking off,” said Flick, but loving the floor show.
It had been a jolly day so far, which fortified them all for the evening shift. The bookings were few, but the restaurant
had filled up from walk-ins. A party of eight had come in for a seventieth birthday. The lady had embraced the fuss and the
two dishy waiters serenading her, and the whole of the restaurant had joined in the singing when it came to “Happy Birthday.”
The atmosphere had been wonderful.
“And I think you could splash out on some merchandise. Some souvenir mugs: Maybe the wording ‘I had my birthday at Teddy’s.’ Or something like that,” said Sabrina, the thought coming to her as she lifted up her coffee cup when they were all unwinding around the table.
“Or what about ‘I wanna to go to beddy with Teddy,’” said Niccolo, hamming it up. He and his brother were so playful, thought
Sabrina. Their mother must be so proud of them. She would have been had they been her sons.
“Well, I’ll just leave it with you,” said Sabrina, wondering if she was interfering too much now. The more she suggested,
the more she was implying that what he had was lacking.
“There isn’t one single thing you have said that I haven’t thought would be an improvement,” said Teddy. He felt comforted
that they appeared to be back to normal, any awkwardness gone. “I am going to open the kitchen up and move the pizza oven
so everyone can see more of the handsome chefs.”
“And George,” said Niccolo.
George gave him yet another mouthful of choice Greek and Sabrina thought again what a fantastic set of people they were, the
dynamics between them all perfect. She would miss them when the time came to leave them, and she both hoped that would be
soon and also not. She’d not outstay her welcome, but she doubted that anything she had in her other life could be this joyful;
otherwise why would she have left it?
“You look tired,” said Teddy when he dropped Sabrina off at Little Moon that night. That was putting it mildly; she looked
shattered actually. “Take the day off tomorrow; there’s hardly anything to do.”
She didn’t want to take the day off. It was just the two of them who went in on Sundays. She could only presume that he was
trying to gently push her away; maybe he suspected she had misread his intentions and wished to put some distance between
them. She took the hint.
“Okay,” she said. “Thank you.”
“Well, isn’t this nice,” said Cilla. “Yes, it is.”
Flick was at her mother’s house for Sunday lunch, some overdue mother-and-daughter time while Hugo was playing golf, said
Cilla when she’d rung to invite her. The house used to be Flick’s home as well, but she and her mother butted heads too often
and Hugo moving in six months ago gave her the cue to move out. She much preferred having her space in the flat, and she would
never move back home now. It was better that when she came here, it was just to visit. They were less likely to fall out if
they only saw each other in small doses.
Cilla was an excellent cook, and the lunch had as many trimmings as a Christmas dinner. Her mother had gone to an awful lot
of effort, and Flick was touched by that. She really wished she and her mum could get on better, but that would never happen
while Cilla thought she knew everything and was right about everything and emotionally manipulated people. It was lucky that
Flick had a strong will and would not be dissuaded from going to university. She had no idea why her mother didn’t want her
to go. Sometimes she wondered if her mother was a bit jealous of her. She was an odd woman and her own worst enemy. She didn’t
have many friends, which said a lot, and the ones she had were nothing like her auntie Marielle’s Mad Cow friends, who were
brilliant, down-to-earth, and kind. Marielle would never say things to her like, “I think that haircut is a bit short for
you, Felicity,” even if she thought it. Nor was it “a mum thing,” as Cilla excused herself, to think she was still five and
didn’t have opinions of her own that just might be valid. Cilla rarely gave the respect to others that she automatically expected
to receive herself.
“Is that Vivienne Westwood?” asked Cilla now, studying her daughter’s top as they were sitting eating.
“Yep,” said Flick.
“I thought you were saving up for university, not buying designer clothes.”
“I got it from Vinted dirt cheap,” said Flick, then, when her mother’s face showed puzzlement: “Secondhand shop online.”
“Ah, I see. I’ve made a peach trifle for dessert.” Cilla smiled at her. “If you’re not dieting.”
“Why would I be dieting? My BMI is perfect,” returned Flick, bristling. Her mother was a human needle designed to get under
skin. As for peaches, she wasn’t keen on them, though she’d eat the trifle to be polite. She would never eat peaches as a
child because even the thought of their furry surfaces made her skin crawl; she would have thought her own mum might have
remembered that.
“How’s Hugo?” asked Flick, spearing a roast potato. Dialogue with her mother had always been strained. They never spoke to
each other like adults or had proper conversations like she did with Auntie Marielle and, recently, Sabrina at work. She really
liked Sabrina and felt inspired by her. She was keener than ever to go to university now and maybe take her career down the
same sort of path that Sabrina had. She hoped that they’d stay in touch when Sabrina went back to wherever she’d come from,
and while she knew she was being selfish, she wished that wasn’t until she herself had left for uni.
“Hugo is wonderful, Felicity. He’s very good company. You should come around one night and talk with him, and then I think
you’d warm to him. He knows how to address counts and barons and any dignitary you can name.”
“I’m sure that comes in handy in Shoresend,” said Flick, sounding more sarcastic than she meant to, so she generated a compliment
to balance it out. “The beef’s lovely. Really tender.”
“Thank you. When you get some spare money, which will be a long time off I should imagine, with all the student debt you’ll incur, you should think about having a private pension,” said Cilla.
“The earlier you start, the better, Hugo says. He’s very on the ball with financial matters and has investments and stocks and shares spread everywhere.
I always wondered if people really had Swiss bank accounts, and now I know they do.
Anyway, he told me to pass on his advice about your pension so that you won’t be sorry in later life. ”
“I’ll bear it in mind,” replied Flick. If Hugo had a Swiss bank account, she was Taylor Swift.
“Have you got an investment account?” asked Cilla after a few forkfuls of buttered cabbage.
“No point in me locking my money away, is there, when I’ll need it for university.”
Cilla nodded. “Of course, of course,” she said. Her speaking voice had become even plummier since she’d been hooked up with
Hugo, and it was bad enough before, thanks to all those elocution lessons she’d had as a child.
“Worth mentioning, though, that the longer you do lock your money away for, the higher the interest rate you get. Hugo’s money