Chapter 36
Flick wasn’t her customary sunny self the next day. She didn’t even have her morning break with everyone but took herself
off into the office, and then she went home rather than have lunch there. Teddy had asked her what was wrong and she’d said
she hadn’t slept well, but she was the same on Tuesday and Wednesday too. Sabrina had also asked if she was okay and she’d
answered in a very strange, clipped tone that she was perfectly fine, thank you, and just had “things on her mind.” She obviously
wasn’t fine, but Sabrina reckoned if she couldn’t offload to her uncle, whom she was close to, she wasn’t going to confide
in a woman she barely knew, and so she backed off.
Things on her mind was an understatement. Flick had been stewing since that conversation with her mother where she’d revealed that Auntie Marielle’s
purse had been stolen. By Sabrina. It couldn’t be. But then again, it might explain why Marielle hadn’t been in the restaurant for at least a week, which was unheard of. If
people found out that Marielle had been robbed again, they really would have something to say, so it was in her interest to
make sure no one knew and had a go at her for being daft enough to let someone she didn’t know stay in her house. The pieces
fit together too well, but Flick didn’t want them to. She had sworn to keep the secret, but it was bursting out of her, too
big to keep in because she was really hurt. And when Sabrina asked her if she was all right, she’d wanted to scream at her
that she knew . Sabrina looked different now in the light of this information.
Flick had always judged her at face value, but it was entirely likely that she was a practiced con artist, working hard to impress them and being nicey-nicey all the time and spouting obvious crap about how to improve things so they’d really believe she was a business expert.
Even more than she was angry at Sabrina, Flick was angry at herself for being taken in by someone so flaming easily.
And to think she’d actually pushed Sabrina and Uncle Teddy together to go out to a Ciaoissimo, hoping a spark between them might light.
She was glad it hadn’t now. And maybe the reason Sabrina was here, saying she’d lost her memory, was because she’d run off from cheating someone else and was lying low.
That would also fit. Surely if she could remember what job she did, she’d remember where she came from as well.
It made Flick’s brain ache to try to unravel it all.
She had this information, but she didn’t know what to do with it. She couldn’t tell Uncle Teddy—he’d go ape at Auntie Marielle—and
she didn’t want to confront Sabrina because right now she didn’t want to talk to her ever again. So it sat inside her and
continued to fester until it was black and rotten. Everyone felt the impact of her mood on the atmosphere, and Teddy pulled
her into the kitchen after the lunchtime diners had gone because he’d had enough of her face tripping her up. It wasn’t like
her at all. For one thing, she always told him when she had a gripe; she used him as a sounding board, so the fact she wasn’t
on this occasion was significant.
“What’s the matter with you, Flick?”
“Nothing,” she said defiantly, looking so much younger than her nineteen years.
“Look, take the night off. There’s obviously something wrong, and if you can’t tell me, then why don’t you go and see my mum
and talk to her?”
There was no way Flick would do that. She wasn’t supposed to know what had happened; she’d sworn not to tell anyone, so Auntie
Marielle was the last person she could go and see.
“I don’t want the night off. I need the money. I’m going to uni soon in case you’ve forgotten.”
“No, I haven’t forgotten. I’ll pay you anyway. Just go. We can do without you for one night.” Flick silently walked away from
him, took her sweater off the peg, and slunk out the front door. She really didn’t want to be around Sabrina. She’d trusted
her. But really, could anyone be that nice without an agenda? She only had to think of her mother, making her a lovely Sunday
lunch because she was trying to manipulate her into handing over money.
She left the restaurant feeling as if she was carrying the weight of an unexploded bomb inside her, and she knew that if she
went straight home to the flat, she’d fill the air in it with so much toxicity she wouldn’t be able to breathe. She would
have gone down to the beach to clear her head. She liked to walk on the sand and let the breeze play with her long, dark hair,
but the skies were thick gray dumplings and rain was leaking out of them in fat, intermittent drops. She decided to go and
buy herself some comfort food and hole herself up with The Sopranos , hoping to replace the violence and dysfunction she felt inside with their violence and dysfunction. Plus a Furio Giunta–heavy
episode never failed to take her to another place.
The post office had a great food section at the back supplied by the farm shop. She opened its door absently with way too
much force and almost knocked the woman behind it off her feet.
“Careful,” said the woman crossly, then, when she saw who it was, her tone instantly warmed.
“Flick. What are you doing in such a rush?” Of all people, Sylvie.
Flick opened her mouth to answer but nothing came out. Tears did the talking for her, though, forming, shining, falling.
Sabrina worked the reception for the first time, and she was as polished as if she’d done it since the place opened.
They weren’t fully booked that evening, but they had a couple of walk-ups, including a group of six who thought a vacancy would be a hope too far and were delighted that it wasn’t.
They had every course and seven bottles of wine between them.
And they wanted to take two pizzas home.
Sabrina poured them all a complimentary Limoncello as she handed out Flick’s invitations to leave a positive review.
They said they’d definitely be back to claim their free puddings.
Teddy had asked George to hang back for five minutes after the other staff had gone.
“I’ve got two tickets for Slattercove Theater,” he said, taking them out of a drawer and wagging them in the air. “They gave
them to me in exchange for putting a poster up in the window to advertise a show: the stage version of My Big Fat Greek Wedding .”
George chuckled. “Of course I’ll go with you. I’m flattered you thought of me.”
“That would be my worst nightmare, for many reasons,” said Teddy. “But my mother would love it, I’m sure.” He shut up then
and waited for George to get his meaning.
George looked puzzled. “Go with me, you mean?” he said eventually.
“Be a shame to let the tickets go to waste.”
George’s hand came out slowly toward them as if he expected Teddy to pull them back at the last second.
“You could make an evening of it,” Teddy went on. “Have something nice to eat. She likes Chinese, Thai... even Greek.”
“Okay,” said George slowly, as if he wasn’t quite sure if Teddy was joking or not. “If that’s all right with you.”
“Please don’t tell me you’ve been waiting for permission.” Teddy shook his head.
“I would have approached you first, as a matter of respect. And I was judging when would be best to... ask.” He mused for
a moment. “She can only say no, right?”
Teddy realized then that love didn’t get any easier or less compli cated. It was always a step into fog, and you just hoped that you had solid ground beneath your feet.
When the table of six had gone and Sabrina had locked the door and closed the window shutters, she turned around to find that
Teddy was pouring out two glasses of red wine. Thinking about George and his mum together had pushed him to say something
to her that wouldn’t sit still inside him anymore. He was glad the last customers had lingered; it gave him the opportunity
to send everyone home and have some time alone with her.
He gestured that she take the chair opposite. “You hungry?”
“No, I’m fine,” she replied. “But this will go down well.” She raised her glass. “ Salute . I hope that’s right, unless Niccolo has been lying again and I’ve actually just said knob .”
Teddy chuckled. “No, it’s right.” He returned the greeting, drank, and then said, “I just wanted to have a word with you.
About last week, when we went to Ciaoissimo.”
“Oh?” she said, feeling a cocktail of curiosity swirling around in her stomach with the wine.
He jumped in with both feet. “Did I say something to upset you? You seemed to leap out of the car really quickly.”
“No, not at all,” she said, trying not to look as if she were lying. Then again, he hadn’t really. The fault was hers, imagining
a spark that wasn’t there. Stupid of her.
“I had a great day,” he said.
“So did I.” Her smile was flickering, unsure.
“I mean I had a great day with you, Sabrina.” Did that mean what she thought it meant? She didn’t answer straightaway because
she didn’t want to get it wrong.
Teddy wasn’t sure how to interpret her silence. What he did know was that when you started opening up to someone, all your gauges lost their bearings, so a little clarity wouldn’t go amiss.
“Sabrina, I am really out of practice, so if I’m overstepping the mark here, I’m so sorry. I don’t want to put you in any
awkward position, because I know your situation, but I enjoyed your company so much. I can’t say more—it wouldn’t be fair
to you because, well, I don’t think I have a right to, you know, say what I feel. This may not be what you want to hear and
I don’t want to confuse you or get in the way of what’s... what’s waiting for you... back home, but... I really like
being around you because I really like you. I’m not expecting you to say a word back to me and I won’t say anything more,
and please feel free to totally ignore it, just strike it from the record. But I needed to get it out. Okay...”
He let out a long breath at the end of his monologue and wondered if he’d been talking nonsense. Then he noticed her stunned
expression, which made him wish he could pull every mangled word back. He took a nervous glug of wine and was a nanosecond
away from standing and saying that he’d drive her home and was sorry and they should erase the past few minutes from history,
when she spoke.
“I feel the same.”
He coughed in his glass and sent wine sploshing all over his face and his chef whites.
“You’ll need some Vanish for that,” she said, smiling a smile that lit up her lovely brown eyes.
“I don’t know what to say now,” he said, wiping his face with a serviette.
“Me neither, if that helps.”
“Look, I don’t think... either of us can...”
“We can’t.” She shook her head.
“So... let’s just park it there and...”
“...forget it for now. But also keep it in mind.” Does that even make sense? she thought.
“We can just... have it... with us, inside.” What the bollocks am I saying?
“I think it’s for the best.”
“Let’s leave it to the gods. The Roman ones, not the Greek ones. They haven’t a clue.”
She laughed.
He leaned across the table, picked up her hand, and pressed the back of it to his lips. He felt her gasp and joy spread inside
him like warm syrup that he’d had that effect on her. That was two things he’d set in motion tonight. One of them a slow but
sure burner, the other... a mad, reckless leap into the unknown that could end up being the best gamble or the worst mistake
of his life.