The Little Christmas Kitchen (27 page)

‘I think you don’t think that at all.’ Ella said with a half smile. ‘I’m going now.’

‘Oh? That’s a shame. I like talking to you.’

‘Well you shouldn’t have shagged someone else, should you?’

‘Touché my petite cream horn. Touché.’

Ella was about to hang up, shaking her head laughing, when she realised she had to ask him something else. ‘Max! Max are you still there?’

‘Of course.’

‘Can you drop in on Maddy? She’s staying at the flat.’

‘Maddy as in your sister Maddy? Who you aren’t terribly keen on?’

‘Yes that Maddy. My dad’s just said she’s working at
Big Mack’s
. You know that dive in Soho?’

Max sniggered. ‘Know it well.’

‘So she’s meant to be at some flash place singing so I don’t understand why she’s there. Can you just check she’s ok?’

‘Absolutely pumpkin. It’s the least I can do.’ Max said, and she heard him take a sip of his drink.

‘Max?’

‘Yes?’

‘Please don’t make a pass at her.’

He made a noise like he’d just spat wine all over himself. ‘I can’t believe you’d say that. Don’t you know me at all?’

‘I know you too well, you idiot. That’s why I’m saying it. Ok I’m going now.’

‘Ok. Bye. I think
Strictly
might just be finishing.’

‘Oh Max–’

‘What?’

‘I think you’d be a champagne truffle. Dashing, rich and sophisticated with a touch too much booze and far too over-priced.’ Ella said, a massive grin on her lips.

Max gave another booming laugh, ‘And not quite to everyone’s taste but delicious all the same.’ He laughed again and then, just before he hung up, said, ‘I’m going to miss you.’

Ella paused, her fingers tightening round the receiver. ‘Me too.’

‘I really loved you, you know? For you. Don’t underestimate yourself, Ella.’

‘Thanks.’ she said, biting down on her bottom lip as she saw flashes of their time together before her eyes. ‘I loved you too. I really did. Hey Max… Don’t believe anything your parents ever tell you. They’re awful and underneath it all you’re ok.’

He sniggered. ‘Thank you.’

‘No problem.’

‘Bye Ella.’

‘Bye Max.’

She held the phone to her chest for a second before putting it down, like they do in movies. And then she smiled.

Opening the door of the phone box she looked up to see a sliver of sun like a vein in the slate grey clouds. And over the path at the taverna, her mum was outside with a spray can, a green line through the
Greek
of
The Little Greek Kitchen
and
Christmas
graffitied in its place.

‘Ella!’ her mum called without really turning round. ‘Come on, we have work to do.’

CHAPTER 34

MADDY

When the lift doors opened on the ground floor Maddy just strode straight out the building. She ignored the lights changing colour underfoot, ignored the receptionist and was more than happy to leave her Fortnum’s presents wherever they’d been put because she sure as hell wouldn’t be giving them to her dad now.

Outside however the snow was bucketing it down, swirling like a ripped pillow, feathers all over the place. Her coat was with the Fortnum’s bag, along with her gloves and hat. But she didn’t want to go back in. Couldn’t face the idea of standing around in reception waiting, remembering her hideous audition, the sniggers as she’d danced, the whole lot of them working out how to make the best of a bad deal.

Why would her dad ever think that this was the way she would want it to be?

There was no denying that she was freezing though. Her jumper was getting damp from the snow and her legs shook from the cold as she waited under the building’s awning deciding how best to get home.

‘Maddy!’

She turned and saw Rollo striding out of the revolving door.

‘I won’t tell him.’ she said. ‘Don’t worry. I won’t let him know that I know he set it up.’ Her teeth chattered as she spoke.

‘Wait.’ Rollo held up a hand, dismissing what she was saying. ‘Just come inside, we’ll go up to my office, have a coffee. Christ at least get your coat.’

‘I don’t want to.’ She shook her head, her arms wrapped tight around her. ‘I’ll buy another one.’

Rollo laughed. ‘That’s ridiculous. Come on.’ He walked over to her, put his arm around her shoulders and ushered her inside.

‘Only to get my coat.’ she muttered through frozen lips.

‘And for me to have a coffee.’

‘You know caffeine’s a drug?’ she said as they entered the warmth of the day-glo foyer.

‘And your point is?’ Rollo asked, then chuckled to himself as they waited for the lift.

Inside Rollo’s office it was toasty warm. The secretary had looked on bemused as he’d asked her to go and get a hand towel for Maddy to dry her hair. Maddy had walked over to the window, unable to look Rollo in the eye and instead stared down at the view of Kensington Gardens and The Royal Garden Hotel, the people in the snow tiny like toy town.

‘So that was all very dramatic.’ Rollo said with a snigger. ‘You don’t want to be in my group, that’s fine, just say so. You don’t have to run away.’

The secretary came in with the towel and a tray of coffee and biscuits.

‘Here have one of these, it’ll warm you up.’ Rollo said, pouring out a coffee and then adding a slug of brandy that he had in his desk drawer.

Maddy took it from him, wrapping her hands round the scolding hot cup. ‘Rollo?’ she asked, chewing on her lip.

‘Yes Maddy.’ he said, munching on a bourbon biscuit.

‘What would you have thought if my dad hadn’t made you take me?’

He shrugged, mouth full of crumbs. ‘I’d have thought you were ok.’ he said. ‘That you had some way to go but that you might get there.’

Maddy nodded, took a sip from the alcohol-laced coffee and tried to hide her disappointment. Even though her audition had been crap and she didn’t want to be in the group, a tiny part of her had hoped that Rollo would say that he thought she was marvellous, just not quite right for the pop world.

‘I would probably–’ Rollo went on, popping a custard cream into his mouth, ‘have left it at that. In fact I definitely would. I’m a busy man.’ He laughed. ‘But!’ he said, holding up a hand as Maddy hung her head a little and putting down her cup went to start patting her hair dry. ‘But I will add, because you’re Ed’s daughter and I can give you–’ he looked at his watch, ‘a few more minutes of my time, that I don’t think this is what you want. There’s not the hunger or the fight. I need commercial and people who are willing to do whatever it takes. Whether it’s mainstream pop or hippy-dippy folk. Those girls down there, one of them has been making tea here for three years. Another sang on the doorstep every morning at the exact time I was coming to work. It was bloody annoying but I liked her tone. You see, I think you enjoy what you do and that should be enough. You have a really lovely voice. But I don’t think you have what it takes for all the rest. A lot of shit comes with this job.’

Maddy tried to hide her disappointment by towelling her hair a bit more vigorously.

‘You want validation?’ Rollo asked, filling his cup with just neat brandy. ‘Stick yourself on YouTube and get a couple of thousand likes and as many hates. Can you do hates on YouTube? Christ I’m so out of date. That’s why I have so many bloody interns. They do all our “social media”.’ He did air quotes around the phrase, spilling some of his brandy. ‘Listen Maddy, you don’t need validation. You know you’re good. You enjoy it. But did you enjoy
that
?’

She put the towel down on the back of one of the club chairs next to the window and thought about standing on that stage in front of people who didn’t really care what she sang and how she sang it. She shook her head.

‘Exactly. Now go and live your life. This–’ he pointed round the office at the posters of pop stars and framed platinum albums. ‘– is not for you.’

One of the interns knocked on the door and came in carrying Maddy’s stuff. ‘Thanks.’ she mumbled, taking it from him, then turned to Rollo and said, ‘I really appreciate you talking to me. Thank you.’

‘You do? I haven’t broken your heart? Trodden on your dreams?’ He raised a brow.

‘Maybe.’ She pulled on her still damp coat. ‘But it’s probably for the best.’ she said, draining the last of her coffee, coughing from the brandy, and walking away to the big glass door.

‘Hey and Maddy,’ Rollo called out as she was just about to leave.

‘Yeah?’

‘Don’t go hating on your dad. He was just trying to help.’

She didn’t reply. Just gave him a quick wave and walked out of his office, down the light-up corridor and out the building. There was a tramp sitting outside High Street Kensington tube who asked if she could spare any change. She handed him her Fortnum’s bag, the stilton and the Lapsang Souchong, and said that it was all she had.

CHAPTER 35

ELLA

Ella was conscious of the severity of her outfit as she ran from the phone box to the taverna. Dimitri looked up from his coffee and croissant and she saw a smile dance across his lips as he gave her a quick up and down. Her mum only showed her surprise fleetingly and Ella wondered if she realised that she’d been planning to leave.

‘They don’t think the ferries will run till after Christmas.’ her mum said as she started to rummage round for some pots and pans. ‘The hotels will do the day themselves but we’ve been offered Christmas Eve.’

‘Gets the tourists out,’ said Dimitri as he dunked his chocolate croissant into his little glass of coffee and looked up at her for a touch too long. When he spoke Ella blushed scarlet, reading too much into their every exchange.

‘It means–’ her mum said, looking at her watch. ‘We have two days to prepare. And that’s not enough. So-– she glanced up at Ella, her eyes dancing with emotions that they were past discussing – apologies that had been refused, olive branches that hadn’t been accepted, explanations that weren’t good enough – then back down to the pans she was hauling out and onto the surface. ‘You’d better go and get changed. It’s going to be a long day.’

Ella sloped back in the kitchen like a sulky teenager and quite enjoyed the feeling. She was dressed in her old lacrosse tracksuit bottoms that she’d found after rifling through Maddy’s drawers. Holding the material up to her face, soft and worn, the red now a washed out pink, she realised how familiar the smell of the washing powder her mum used was, how much it reminded her of being young. Pulling them on, she remembered the frayed hems around the ankles from where she’d worn them in the rain and mud and let them trail along the floor. She didn’t even bother to go to tie the chord around the waist because she knew it was missing, lost years ago. Looking down at her legs, at the name of her school emblazoned down one side, she saw that Maddy had sewn one of the rips together with yellow wool. It baffled Ella that Maddy had even kept them. Made it hard for her to ignore the possibility that Maddy wanted to keep something to remember her by.

In the kitchen it seemed that all hands were on deck. Dimitri had been set up at the kitchen table to prepare the filling for cheese pies and the taramasalata, while her granny was chopping herbs for the mini meatballs and checking the oven every couple of minutes for her sausage rolls.

‘Ella, where do you want to work?’ her mum asked curtly as she walked in.

Dimitri kicked the chair opposite him out and she saw a grin on his lips as he looked down at the feta cheese he was crumbling.

‘I can sit here.’ she said, pointing to the chair, and then perched herself on the seat.

‘Ok fine. There’s a list here of everything that needs doing.’ Her mum held up a sheet of A4 paper. ‘Do you still know how to roll
Dolmades
?’

Ella nodded.

‘Ok, well start with that. I’ve rinsed the grape leaves so if you make the stuffing now you can wrap them and we’ll put them in the fridge.’ It was like a military operation, there was none of the flap and panic of the impromptu breakfast, this was Ella’s mum on fire. Christmas was her forte. Ella remembered big parties at home with all the neighbours, them working like mad to get all the canapés ready – chopping vegetables for dips and skewering cheese and pineapple onto sticks were her and Maddy’s jobs and they took it so seriously, while her mum and aunt whipped up plates of delicacies that disappeared in a flash when the guest arrived. The whole village would come. Their’s wasn’t the biggest or grandest house but with the fire burning and the big table laden down with treats it was a date in the Christmas calendar that no one missed.

She looked up at her mum, her hair pulled back neatly, no make-up on, white chef’s apron wrapped double around her waist and thought of when she’d stand in the kitchen at home, cup of tea in one hand, list in the other calling out orders just as she was doing now. But then, when it all got too fraught, her dad would come in, pinch a sausage roll and swap the cup of tea for a glass of champagne and her and Maddy would shut their eyes and make faces when he kissed their mum under a sprig of mistletoe.

‘Dimitri, are you going to make the cheese pies? Because if you are, they need to be neat.’

Dimitri swivelled round in his seat and did a mock salute, which made Ella’s mum roll her eyes and walk away towards the larder to get supplies for the next dish on the list.

‘Why are you here?’ Ella whispered across the table to Dimitri.

‘Because I wanted to spend the day with you.’ he replied.

‘Really?’

He laughed. ‘No.’

‘Oh.’ Ella felt herself blushing as she diced some onions.

‘I supply the alcohol, Sophie does the food.’ He shrugged then leant forward, his elbows on the table and rested his chin in his hands. ‘Would you like me to want to spend the day with you?’

Ella had no idea. What good would a holiday fling do her now? It would just add to the awkwardness of her relationship with the island. She was barely out of her marriage. Barely able to work out who she was. But… She looked up, he was watching her, thick dark lashes blinking slow like a lizard in the desert, smile lazy on his face, like he had all the time in the world and wasn’t fussed either way.