Promised

‘No, thank you.’

‘It wasn’t a question, Livy. I’m telling you that you’ll be spending the day with me tomorrow.’

‘That’s very kind of you, but I’m afraid I have plans.’ I sound hesitant when I was aiming for sureness. I’m aware that Gregory is watching and listening intently, and I’m glad because I’m certain that if he wasn’t here to monitor the conversation, then I’d be agreeing. Hearing his smooth voice, even though there’s no element of friendliness to it, is bringing back all of the feelings that came before the anger of being abandoned.

‘Cancel them.’

‘I can’t.’

‘For me, you can.’

‘No, I can’t.’ I hang up before I cave and quickly turn my phone off. ‘Done,’ I declare, shoving it in my bag.

‘Good girl. You know it makes sense.’ Gregory smiles across the table at me. ‘Drink up and I’ll walk you home.’

*

We say goodbye on the corner, Gregory heading off to get ready for a night out, me to go and hide in my bedroom from my prying grandmother. As I’m inserting my key quietly into the lock, the door swings open and two pairs of old eyes look at me with interest – Nan trying to read me, George peering over her shoulder with a mild grin on his face. I can only imagine what’s gone down in this house since I left this morning and George arrived. He’ll do anything for Nan, including listening to her harp on about her boring, withdrawn granddaughter. Except this time I’m not boring. And George’s delight at this news is written all over his round face.

‘Your phone’s off,’ Nan fires accusingly. ‘Why?’

My arms drop to my sides on an over-the-top sigh before I push my way past them, heading toward the kitchen. ‘The battery died.’

Her scoff indicates her thoughts on that lie as she tracks me. ‘Your boss stopped by.’

I swing around, horrified, finding straight lips and George still grinning over her shoulder. ‘My boss?’ I ask tentatively, my damn heart pounding against my chest.

‘Yes, your real boss.’ She watches for my reaction and she won’t be disappointed. I’m trying my hardest not to, but I’m blushing furiously and my body has completely sagged. ‘Nice cockney man.’

‘What did he want?’ I breathe, gathering myself together.

‘He’s been trying to call you.’ She fills the kettle and signals for George to sit, which he does without delay, still grinning at me. ‘Something about a charity gala this evening.’

‘He wants me to work?’ I ask hopefully, retrieving my phone and quickly turning it on.

‘Yes.’ She continues with tea-making duties, her back to me. ‘I did point out that it might be too much after your long shift yesterday evening.’

I’m scowling hard at her back, and I know George’s grin has just widened. ‘Give it a rest, Nan,’ I warn, stabbing at the buttons of my phone. She doesn’t turn around and she doesn’t answer. She’s made her point, as have I.

Putting my phone to my ear, I take the stairs to escape to the sanctuary of my room. Del needs me to waitress this evening and I accept eagerly, before I’m told where to be and when. I’ll do anything to distract myself.

Pushing my way through the staff entrance of the hotel, I’m immediately greeted by a pacing Sylvie. She’s on me like a wolf, like I knew she would be. ‘Tell me everything!’

I walk past her, heading for the kitchen. ‘There’s nothing to tell.’ I brush her off, reluctant to confirm that she was right. I take my apron from a smiling Del and start putting it on. ‘Thank you.’

He hands one to Sylvie, too, who snatches it and doesn’t thank our boss. ‘So you told him where to go?’

‘Yes,’ I say very convincingly, probably because it’s part truth. I have, in effect, told him where to go. I start loading my round silver tray with glasses. ‘So you can quit with the nagging because there’s nothing to nag me about.’

‘Oh,’ she says placidly, starting to help me. ‘Well, I’m glad. He’s an arrogant bastard.’

I neither deny nor confirm it, instead opting to change the subject completely. I’m supposed to be busying my wandering mind, not feeding it. ‘Did you go out last night?’

‘Yes, and I still feel like crap,’ she admits, pouring the champagne. ‘My body has craved junk food all day, and I necked something close to two litres of fat Coke.’

‘That bad?’

‘Horrendous. I’m not drinking again . . . until next week.’

I laugh. ‘What makes you bad . . .’

‘Don’t! The smell of this is turning my stomach.’ She gags and holds her nose as she continues to fill the flutes. It’s only now that I take a good look at her, noticing her usually shiny black bob looks a little dull, as do her usually rosy cheeks. ‘I know. I look like shit.’

I return to the tray. ‘You really do,’ I admit.

‘And I feel worse than I look.’

Del appears, looking his usual happy self. ‘Girls, we have members of parliament in tonight and a few diplomats. I know I don’t have to tell you, but remember your manners.’ He looks at Sylvie when he speaks, frowning. ‘You really do look like crap.’

‘Yes, yes, I know. Don’t worry. I won’t breathe on them,’ she quips, breathing onto her palm and smelling. I grimace, watching her face screw up in disgust before she rootles through her pocket and shoves a Polo mint in her mouth.