Chapter 28
Rose
Holy Mother of God, my head!
Urgh, and my stomach...
I make it to the toilet in time to heave into it. Why do people do this to themselves? How the hell am I supposed to go to work today?
I’m an hour late by the time I make it in, donning dark sunglasses.
‘Afternoon,’ Toby says wryly, handing over a loaf of bread to a customer as the door swings shut behind me. I open it back up for the customer.
‘Don’t you be smart with me, young man,’ I berate him when we’re alone. I walk around behind the counter.
‘I’m back to being a young man, am I?’ He hooks his thumbs through his belt loops and regards me with amusement. ‘Last night I was older than my years,’ he teases.
‘Did I say that?’
‘Don’t you remember?’ His brow furrows.
‘I don’t remember much,’ I admit.
‘Shame,’ he says flippantly as he turns around to empty the coffee machine. ‘It was a good night.’
I pop my sunglasses on top of my head. ‘It was a good night, wasn’t it?’ I nod my head agreeably. The action makes it throb so I decide not to do that again.
‘Coffee?’ he asks.
‘Yes, please.’
‘How much water have you had to drink today?’ He glances over his shoulder at me.
‘Not much.’
‘Go and down a glass.’ He nods towards the bakery.
‘Aah, I remember now,’ I say good-naturedly. ‘You are older than your years!’
He shrugs. ‘My dad used to have a drinking problem.’
‘Oh.’ The humour leaves my face.
‘It’s not so bad any more,’ he explains. ‘But it still gets the better of him sometimes.’
‘Sorry. That sucks.’ I’m now lost for words.
‘Water,’ he says, nodding at the bakery door again.
I decide to just go ahead and follow his instructions.
Over the course of the morning, fragments of the night before start to slot into place. The first comes when I catch sight of the flier in my handbag. I remember the man behind the bar mistaking me for Eliza and me hiding away. Then I got chatted up by some random bloke, getting the giggles when he thought Toby and I were a couple. And I remember standing outside Eliza’s restaurant and telling Toby that she’d have the hots for him if he were a bit older. And then, oh God... What was it that I said? That I liked him and thought he’d be a really good catch for someone one day!
Argh!
A hot flush comes over me as I surreptitiously study him. I’m clearing a table in the café area and he’s standing behind the counter staring straight ahead. He looks like he’s in a bit of a daze, but then he glances over at me and I jolt to my senses, hastily getting on with clearing the table.
I acted very immaturely last night. For the rest of the day, I decide I’d better do my darndest to make up for it.
At four forty-five, our last customers have left. We close at five, but it’s unlikely anyone else will come in this late in the day.
‘You should go home and see your mother,’ I say, adopting a tone of authority. She came out of the hospital today. ‘I can lock up.’
‘No, I want to get the starter ready and prep tonight’s ingredients. Dad’ll be knackered.’
‘In that case, I’ll help,’ I say.
‘It’s alright. You look like you need your bed.’
I ignore him, heading into the bakery. A moment later, he joins me, looking confused at the sight of me putting on my apron instead of gathering my belongings.
‘What are you doing?’ he asks.
‘I’ll toast the nuts and seeds. You do the starter.’
He stares at me for a long moment. ‘I said I can manage.’
‘It’s fine.’ I flounce over to the cupboard and get out the stack of Tupperware containers containing the seeds, putting them on the counter and returning to retrieve the nuts.
I hear him sigh, but by the time I turn back around, he’s already getting the jar of ‘mother’ out of the fridge.
‘I don’t know how your dad bakes on his own every night,’ I say, as I sprinkle pumpkin seeds into one frying pan and poppy seeds into another. ‘I think I’m still recovering from last Friday night.’
‘Yeah, these next few weeks are going to be tough,’ he agrees heavily.
‘Maybe we should get someone else in,’ I suggest. ‘What are we going to do about the cakes?’
‘I don’t know, Rose,’ he snaps, sounding frustrated.
I stare at him with surprise. ‘Are you alright?’ I ask with concern.
‘Just... Quit mothering me. I don’t need it.’
I feel a little sick as I stare back at him. ‘I—’
‘You’re burning the seeds!’ He storms over to the hob and I flinch and jump out of his way as he switches off the gas. I roughly drag my apron over my head and dump it on the worktop, grabbing my bag on my way out the door.
‘ROSE!’ I hear him call after me, but I’m already gone.
‘Am I a mug?’ I ask Angus later. I’m sitting half in, half out of the balcony door, staring at the rain. He’s just walked in from work.
‘What are you talking about?’ he asks, coming over. He looks weary.
‘Do you think I am?’ I ask outright. ‘Dad always used to say I was a giver, not a taker. But did he just mean that I’m a mug?’
‘Of course not,’ he scoffs. ‘Being a good person doesn’t make you an idiot.’
‘Hmm,’ I say, looking back out at the rain.
‘What’s this about?’ he asks with a sigh, pulling up a chair and slumping into it. ‘What’s brought this on?’
‘Just something Toby said,’ I mumble. ‘I’ve been trying to help him, but I don’t know, maybe I’m overstepping the mark. I’m not sure he wants my help.’
‘Well, that makes him the mug,’ Angus says irately. ‘You going into work like that in the middle of the night. I still can’t believe you did that. He’s bloody lucky and if he doesn’t know it, then maybe I’ll go in there and tell him myself.’
This makes me smile.
‘You’re not a mug, Rosie,’ he says definitively. ‘Now, what have you cooked for my dinner?’
I whack him on his chest and he laughs.
‘Seriously, though,’ he says, getting to his feet and going to the fridge. ‘I don’t think we have much in. Shall we get a takeaway?’
‘Sure. I’ve got my appetite back now.’
‘Where did it go?’ he asks curiously as he opens the drawer for the takeaway menus and passes over a stack.
‘I was pretty hungover earlier.’
‘Were you? On a Tuesday?’ He looks interested. ‘What did you get up to last night?’
‘Oh!’ I remember what I was going to tell him. ‘Toby and I went to see a band at this place called Elvis & Joe’s in the Northern Quarter. Do you know it?’
‘Er, yeah,’ he calls after me as I march back into the hall to retrieve my bag.
I return with the flier. ‘Look who has a gig there in a couple of weeks.’
I watch his face as I pass it over. Sure enough, his right eyebrow twitches.
Despite what I said on the doorstep that day we found out about Phoebe, I no longer believe that Angus and Eliza were having an affair. Eliza is nowhere near a good enough actress to pull off her reaction to my accusation, so whatever history they had I’m certain is behind them. I’ll put Angus’s eyebrow Tourette’s down to that. ‘The man there asked me to give this to her,’ I continue. ‘I’m seeing Mum in the next couple of days – she can pass it on.’
‘Wow,’ he says quietly, studying Eliza’s image.
I swallow and fold my arms in front of my chest. ‘I was wondering if maybe, I don’t know, maybe we should go.’
He glances up at me quickly.
‘Don’t you miss her?’ I ask.
‘Do you?’ he replies carefully.
I nod slightly.
The truth is, I’ve been missing Eliza for a while, now, ever since I read Phoebe’s comments about us in her diary. I’ve always thought that Eliza considered me dull and boring. I thought that our personalities clashed and there was nothing we could do about it. I didn’t really consider that I had been incredibly mean to her, growing up, and it had come from a place of jealousy and insecurity. It’s hardly surprising that her resentment towards me built in return, and no doubt intensified in the years that I grew so close to Phoebe and Angus. If I put myself in her shoes, I know I would have found that unbearable.
I don’t go into all of this with Angus, though. I’m still trying to come to terms with it myself.
‘I do, a little,’ I tell him. ‘After the gig, Toby and I were going to get something to eat and we saw a restaurant called Roxy’s. She was inside waitressing.’
‘Oh, right,’ he says.
‘I’d forgotten that she’d left Mario’s.’
Angus puts down the flier suddenly and gives me a beseeching look. ‘Why don’t you call her? Don’t just turn up at her gig. You’ve got a lot to talk about.’
‘I don’t know,’ I say. ‘I just thought maybe it would be a small step in the right direction.’ I’ve never been very supportive of Eliza and her music. I want to make up for it. ‘Don’t worry if you don’t want to go.’
‘It’s not that,’ he says. ‘But God, Rose, this must be killing your mother. To lose one daughter and then have the others—’
‘You don’t have to spell it out, Angus, I know,’ I say coldly. ‘It’s not like I want to be estranged from Eliza. Losing Phoebe was hard enough...’ Tears spring up in my eyes and he pulls me towards him with a heavy sigh.
I bury my face against his collarbone, breathing in his familiar aftershave and trying to stave off my tears. Angus has always given the best hugs.
‘It’ll be okay,’ he murmurs, rocking me comfortingly.
I pull away from him to dry my eyes and he lets me go. ‘You’re tired,’ he says gently. ‘You’re probably experiencing an alcohol low. Pizza will help.’
I smile through my tears. ‘Is that what you feel like?’
‘You choose. Honestly. I’ll eat anything.’
‘Thai?’ I ask timidly.
‘Done.’
He takes the menu from me and goes over to the phone.
I forgot that the Thai restaurant doesn’t deliver, so a short while later he heads down the street to pick it up. After ten minutes, there’s a knock at the door. I’m assuming Angus has forgotten his keys so I don’t think twice about opening it up. I start at the sight of Toby standing on the landing outside the apartment, his skateboard in one hand.
‘What are you doing here?’ I ask with surprise, glancing down the stairs. ‘How did you get into the main lobby?’
‘Some girl was coming out. She let me in.’
‘They’re not supposed to do that,’ I say primly.
He gives me a long, poignant stare. ‘Can I come in?’ he prompts.
‘Um, sure.’ I step back to let him pass.
‘I came to say sorry.’ He looks shamefaced. ‘I was out of order.’
‘Forget about it,’ I reply, leaning my back against the hall wall.
‘I woke up this morning and decided to quit smoking,’ he explains. ‘I’ve been like a bear with a sore head all day.’
This news perks me up. ‘Have you really quit?’
‘Yeah.’
‘Well done!’ I enthuse.
He offers me a small smile, then reaches down and circles my wrist with his hand.
‘I really am sorry,’ he says quietly, stroking his middle finger across the top edge of my palm. My heart jumps as I stare back at him. And then the door opens and Angus bustles in.
‘That place was chockers,’ he starts, stopping in his tracks when he spies Toby, who drops my wrist like a hot potato.
‘This is Toby,’ I quickly pull myself together and make the introductions.
‘Er, hi,’ Angus says, giving him the once over.
Toby grabs the door before it closes. ‘I’ve gotta go, but I’ll see you tomorrow?’
I nod and he glances at Angus.
‘See you later,’ he says, then he turns and jogs down the steps.
Angus raises his eyebrows at me as he closes the door. ‘So that was Toby, hey?’
‘Yeah.’ I wander back into the living room, feeling bizarrely jittery.
‘He’s not how I imagined him to look,’ he comments, heading into the kitchen to unpack the takeaway.
‘No?’ I ask casually. I make it to the window in time to see Toby skating away along the pavement.
‘I thought he’d be more of a skinny teenager,’ Angus says.
I snort as a memory comes back to me. ‘Last night I told him he was Eliza’s type. She’s too old for him, obviously, but she would have gone for him if she were a few years younger.’
Angus wrinkles up his nose. ‘Really?’ He sounds dubious.
‘Yeah, you know how she was always into skater/indie boys.’
‘I was one of them once,’ he muses nostalgically. ‘Until I had to get a proper job and tidy myself up.’ He glances down at his attire – dark-grey cords and a light-blue designer T-shirt.
‘You’re still an indie boy, Gus,’ I say fondly.
And you’re still Eliza’s type. But I don’t say that part out loud.