Chapter 22
Elodie stood, frozen to the spot. Her cake. Her beautiful cake. As she watched, Leon leapt on top of Mal and seemed to be hitting him. No no no no no. Mal. Her cake.
Behind her, she heard a high-pitched keening. Saffron’s hands were over her mouth. Above her glittering nails, her eyes were huge. ‘My cake,’ she gasped. ‘Oh. No. My cake.’
To Elodie’s horror she saw tears well up. ‘Saffron—’ she began. But what was there to say?
‘It’s all ruined,’ Saffron whispered. ‘Ruined.’
When someone shouted, ‘Food fight!’ the level of noise increased. Elodie spun back around. Food was flying everywhere. Most of the women had run for cover, but a few of the men were pelting one another with all the food that she and Mal had painstakingly prepared. Mal, streaked in cake and fruit, crawled out from the melee, and stood up. He appeared to be bleeding from his lip. Jake and Marty were hustling Leon away into one of the formal gardens on the side.
Elodie didn’t know what to do. Her cake was ruined. Her client was in distress. Her almost boyfriend was hurt. Where did she go first? A summer roll hit her shoulder and fell apart, showering cucumber, avocado and mint down her top. She stared out at the food fight. She didn’t see who threw it, but she saw the mini burger, with its rich, red, definitely-going-to-leave-a-stain relish fly towards Saffron. Saffron had to return that dress unharmed. Without pausing to think, Elodie threw herself, like a bodyguard taking a bullet for the president, into its path. It caught her in the chest and she landed in an awkward heap, ketchup staining her top.
She heard Jamie say, ‘Get her out of here,’ and turned her head to see Saffron being hurried away, with Jamie, jacket spread out, covering her.
She sat up, rubbing her shoulder. Someone had got hold of a bottle of champagne and was spraying it everywhere. People were throwing food. There was nothing she could do for her cake. She’d lost sight of Mal. The best thing she could do was to go back into the kitchen and hide there until the furore died down.
Mal stood up, bits of cake and strawberry dripping off him. The cake was ruined. Poor Elodie. He spotted the bride standing a short distance away. Poor Saffron and Jamie too. A mini hot dog bounced off him. Looking around, he spotted Leon being hustled out of the way by Jake and Marty. He wasn’t normally an angry man, but a red mist rose, setting his face and eyes on fire. Leon. That bastard had started all this and ruined not just the wedding, but all of Elodie’s hard work and, quite possibly, her business. The cake had been a big order for her. It was important to her. He was going to wring Leon’s neck. He stormed off in pursuit.
He caught up with them in the rose garden. As he thundered in, Jake stepped in front of him and stopped him with a palm to the chest.
‘Mal.’
He glared at his best friend, smacked the hand out of the way and carried on towards Leon, who was standing, panting, with Marty still trying to hold him. Jake’s intervention had broken the rage, but he was still furious.
Leon shook Marty off and squared up to him.
‘What the hell is wrong with you?’ Mal roared into Leon’s face. ‘Do you know how long it took Elodie to make that cake? Have you any idea how big this commission is to her? What are you trying to do? Ruin her?’
Leon’s bluster faltered. ‘Elodie?’
‘What? You thought I made that cake? No. Elodie did. It was a separate order from the rest. It all came out of her budget. That cake and the publicity around it was going to launch her career.’
‘I … I didn’t think—’
‘No.’ Mal jabbed a finger at him. ‘You didn’t think. You were so wrapped up in your petty vendetta you didn’t care who got hurt.’ He stepped even closer. ‘If you have a problem with me, Leon, you can tell me to my face. If you want to fight me, fight me. You don’t get to go around hurting other people just because you think you’re somehow getting at me.’
Something gave way in Leon’s expression. ‘It’s not a petty vendetta!’ he shouted. ‘You were my best friend and you abandoned me! ‘Have you any idea what it was like after you went off and got buff?’
‘I have some idea,’ said Mal, drily. ‘They used to do all that to me too … before.’
Leon glared at him and shook his head. His mouth moved as though he was fighting to form words.
Jake stepped forward and put a hand on Leon’s shoulder. ‘But it was different when there were two of you?’ he suggested, his tone was gentle.
Leon switched his attention to Jake. He didn’t reply, but his eyes widened.
‘Even an oppressed team is a team, am I right?’ Jake continued. ‘It must have felt different when there was suddenly just you.’
To Mal’s horror, Leon’s eyes filled with tears.
‘So much worse’ he said, hoarsely. Leon took a couple of steps back and sank down onto the stone bench, tears trickling down. He rubbed his face and smeared icing over the tear tracks.
‘I asked you to come with me to the gym. You didn’t want to.’ Mal’s anger had all but evaporated in the face of Leon’s tears.
Marty fumbled around in his pockets and produced a napkin. ‘Here. Mate.’
Leon took it and blew his nose. ‘You disappeared that summer and then you came back a different person. And you spent all your time with … with him.’ He pointed to Jake. ‘I felt like you’d replaced me and then …’ Another sob. ‘And then you started going out with Angela.’
‘Angela?’ Mal had known about Leon being jealous of his friendship with Jake, but he wasn’t clear where his ex-girlfriend came into it.
‘Wait, wait,’ said Marty. ‘Who’s Angela?’
‘This girl that I dated for a few months when we were at school,’ said Mal. Angela had been his first girlfriend. Going out with her had been a revelatory experience for him. ‘Are you saying,’ he said to Leon, ‘that you had a crush on Angela?’
‘She was supposed to be mine!’
Mal shook his head. ‘I didn’t know. You didn’t tell me … or her. Did you?’
Leon sniffed. ‘Well, no. I didn’t stand a chance and I didn’t want her to laugh at me. Or you.’
Mal nodded slowly. ‘And now you like Elodie … and she’s more interested in me than you and … it feels like school all over again.’
Leon didn’t reply.
‘That … sort of makes sense,’ Marty said.
Mal looked at Jake and gestured with his head towards Leon. One of the reasons that Jake’s gym was so popular was because Jake was so good with this psychology stuff. He tended to spend time in each of his gyms, getting to know his clients. He seemed to know when people needed space and when they needed to talk. And when it came to it, he had a knack of knowing exactly what to say.
When Jake hesitated, Mal raised his eyebrows. Jake rolled his eyes and nodded. Then he hitched his trousers and hunkered down in front of Leon. He put a large hand on Leon’s shoulder.
‘Leon, mate. You’re carrying around some very old trauma there.’
Leon mumbled something about still hurting.
Jake patted his shoulder. ‘I understand. But you’re not that kid anymore, are you? I mean, look at you. You’ve got a job that you’re good at. You have a good life. You can walk tall. You’re stronger and fitter. What did you do? Take up running and a martial art?’
Leon raised his head, cheeks still damp. ‘Judo. How did you know?’
‘Your throw back there,’ Jake said, simply. ‘What you don’t look like is who you were when you were a teenager. You’ve grown. You’re not that kid anymore. You don’t have to keep proving that to people, they can already see it. You just need to realise it yourself.’
Leon said nothing, but his expression changed. There was something like hope.
Jake nodded and Leon nodded with him.
‘You’ve got some trauma there from your childhood,’ said Jake. ‘Maybe see someone about that?’ When Leon recoiled, he added, ‘Getting help when your mind is hurting isn’t shameful. Your emotions are controlled by your brain and your brain is just an organ. If your liver was hurting you, you’d see a doctor, right?’
Leon nodded, hesitantly.
‘If your brain is hurting you, why should it be any different?’
Mal’s anger had gone now. He could see how difficult it must have been for Leon. He had tried to talk to him when they were kids, but Leon had been so angry … and Mal hadn’t even known about the Angela thing. Poor Leon. He opened his mouth to say he was sorry, but Jake rounded on him.
‘And you,’ Jake said, sternly. ‘You need to stop going around feeling guilty for things that were beyond your control. You did what you had to do. Leon here is in charge of his feelings. You don’t get to be responsible for how he feels. That’s damaging to both of you.’
Leon looked up. ‘Yeah,’ he said.
‘I … Yes. I’m sorry,’ said Mal. ‘For what it’s worth, I didn’t mean to hurt you, Leon.’
Leon stood up. ‘We’re never going to be friends again,’ he said, severely.
‘No.’ He hadn’t wanted to be, but it seemed important to Leon that he reiterated that, so Mal did. ‘I get that.’
‘I need another drink,’ said Leon.
‘Ah. I think maybe we should call you a taxi,’ said Mal. ‘You’ve got a lot to think about and it’s mayhem out there.’ He gestured towards the exit to the garden. From the shouts and laughter it seemed like people were enjoying the mayhem, but it was still chaos. Poor Elodie must be beside herself.
Elodie got to the pantry and found the door shut. She tried the handle. It wasn’t locked. Just shut. There was no one inside.
‘Marty?’ she said, as thought he might be hiding amongst the cake boxes. Nothing.
She carefully shut the door behind her. Just about every surface was covered with empty food carriers or napkins. Moving with exaggerated care, she stashed the knife, still wrapped in its carrier bags at the bottom of a stack of cake boxes, then shifted a few things out of the way and sank down on a corner of one of the benches.
Where had Marty disappeared to? He was supposed to be here, keeping an eye on things. Elodie let out a long breath. Her top had a big red stain on it. Her cake was ruined. Saffron was distraught. Emotion washed over her and the room swam. This had all gone so terribly wrong.
Saffron had only paid the down payment for the cake. Would she even pay the rest? Elodie had delivered it, but Saffron hadn’t had the chance to even try it. The event was meant to be exclusively available through Saffron’s livestream, but people had been filming the food fight. This wasn’t what Saffron had planned and if she decided she wasn’t going to pay the rest … She didn’t want to think how low her bank account was right now. She’d borrowed from her savings to fund this.
Tears ran down her face. She wiped them away. She was at work. This was no time to be emotional. She had to think of a way to salvage this … this terrible, terrible mess. More tears came. Elodie gave up and let them take her.
Someone knocked on the door. Ugh. Who was that? She didn’t want to talk anyone right now. Not even Marty. ‘Go away.’ Her voice sounded weak.
‘Elodie?’
Mal. She wiped her face, trying to eliminate the tears. When she looked at her fingers, they were streaked with black. That was mascara.
Mal came in cautiously. He was still wearing a lot of cake. He knelt in front of her and held out his arms. ‘I know I’m covered in cake and a bit disgusting, but would you like a hug?’
She would. She really would. Leaning forward she put her head on his shoulder and buried her face against the side of his neck. He slid his arms around her and held her tightly. She relaxed into the firmness of his support. Was this what it felt like to have someone on her side? Fresh tears leaked out and ran down her face.
‘Elodie. I’m so sorry about your cake,’ he said. ‘It was an accident—’
‘What happened?’ She hadn’t seen it, merely turned around to see Mal land.
‘Leon … uh. Leon punched me and I fell. I’m so sorry. The cake is ruined.’ He sounded sad and a little scared.
‘He hit you?’ She pushed herself back. ‘Are you okay?’
Now that she was looking at him properly, she could see that he had a split on his lower lip. It was starting to swell. With her fingertips she moved away some of the icing that was streaked on his cheeks. He winced. One of his cheeks was starting to weal up too. For a second, she didn’t know what to do. She just stared at his lovely face and felt everything. Protective, sad, grateful, angry. All of them. All at once.
‘It’s not as bad as it looks,’ he said.
That was such a boy thing to say that it snapped her out of her feelings. Practical Elodie was back. ‘Let’s see if there’s some ice in the freezer or something else to get onto that bruise,’ she said. ‘You should really wash that stuff off your face. Maybe go outside and brush off most of the cake.’
‘Yes, miss.’ He started to lean back. She held his face a little tighter and, when he stopped moving, kissed his uninjured cheek and tasted her own buttercream.
‘Better already.’ He smiled, then winced and touched his lip. ‘That stings.’
A lot of loud and ostentatious throat clearing announced Marty’s arrival.
‘Marty, where the bloody hell did you disappear to?’ said Elodie, as she stood up.
Her friend gaped at her. ‘What happened? Are you hurt?’
She looked down at the big red stain. ‘Tomato relish,’ she said. ‘Nothing to worry about.’ She put her hands on her hips. ‘Now. Back to the point about you staying here …’
‘I had to leave. I needed to talk to Jake.’
‘Needed to talk to Jake? What was so important that you left all our stuff where anyone could nick it?’
‘I shut the door,’ said Marty. ‘Besides, it was a good job because then I saw Leon approaching Mal. The only reason Jake was around to pull Leon off was because of me.’
She didn’t understand, but let it go. The situation with the food fight was more important right now. ‘How bad is it out there?’
Marty winced. ‘Pretty bad, actually. People are going to find out just how stain proof their party clothes are …’
Mal came back, a little cleaner now, and holding some wet blue towel to his cheek. ‘We should probably go and check on Saffron.’
‘You might want to sort out your face before that,’ Marty said.
‘I have.’ Mal sounded offended.
‘Not you. Elodie. Darling, your mascara has run. You look like a very cute version of the Joker.’
She had forgotten about that. ‘Oh bugger. One second.’
It turned out that the mascara that wasn’t waterproof against tears, was still waterproof enough not to wipe off completely. She didn’t have any make-up remover to hand. There were wipes though. Disinfectant wipes. She eyed them for a few seconds before deciding that putting mild bleach on her face was worse than having mascara stains and put them away again.
‘Right,’ she said to Mal. ‘Let’s go face the music.’