‘Pow! Knew it, you’re catastrophising. That’s whatPsychologiesmag says. You’re making things worse than they are. Get into work and stop thinking so much. See, that’s better, I’ll be able to carry on now and finish my sausage sandwich.’
Chapter 17
The warmth hit her as soon as she pushed open the door to The Owl’s Nest. Unusually, Evelyn was there on her own – there was no sign of either Pete or Dave. The older woman’s face lit up when she saw her, which caused Ally a further pang of guilt. She was surrounded by the Saturday specials: a breakfast quiche that consisted of a very thin buttery puff pastry loaded with a mushroom and spinach filling; a bacon and asparagus one; and a vegetable tart filled with glowing shapes of red and green peppers and courgette peeping through the golden glaze. A hint of garlic hovered in the air alongside the aroma of baking.
‘Are you on your own, Evelyn? Where’s Dave?’
‘He texted me to say that the little baby had had a rough night, but that he’s managed to pull through. Still, you know .?.?.’
‘Oh God, poor Dave and Fia, what an absolute nightmare for them. Sure, we can’t expect too much from him if he’s been sitting in a hospital all night.’
‘And the new lad, Marco, apparently has had a puncture on his bike .?.?.’
They looked at each other and rolled their eyes.
She was dying to ask about Pete. And yet even the possibility of mentioning his name felt exposing, plus she hadn’t heard a squeak from him since the previous week. Evelyn had theuncanny ability to pick up on her thoughts.
‘You’re wondering about the other fella?’
Ally nodded, grateful she hadn’t had to ask.
‘He hasn’t been in great form since you left, if that’s what you’re wondering about. Very quiet.’
‘Really?’ She hadn’t intended it to come out quite so happily.
Evelyn turned back to pour a thick sponge-pudding mixture into a cake tin and then spooned a huge dollop of apricot jam into the well in the centre, but Ally could see the smile on her face. She’d begun taking chairs down and setting up tables with a sprig of fresh flowers on each, but she couldn’t resist her curiosity any longer. ‘Evelyn, d’you think Pete hates me for leaving?’
Evelyn posted the sponge into the oven and then looked up. ‘That wouldn’t be the impression I got.’
Ally smiled at her gratefully.
‘And as for the rest of us .?.?. sure, what else could you do? You were offered a full-time job. You can’t pay your mortgage with loyalty. Anyway, you’re here now – isn’t that the main thing?’
‘Yeah.’ Still, she wasn’t convinced. There were ten minutes left before they opened but she was conscious there was something missing.
‘Evelyn, we’ve no Christmas decorations up, no Christmas tree or anything – what’s the story?’
‘Well, if you have time to do them, that’s well and good. I haven’t.’
Clearly, The Owl’s Nest was barely hanging in there. The menu, on which its excellent reputation depended, right now was resting almost entirely on the frail shoulders of Evelyn.
‘I’ll do the decorations. Where are they?’
‘Upstairs, in one of the storerooms. God knows, they got chucked up there last year and forgotten about.’
‘In that case, I’m going to put them up right now. It’s the onlyplace in town left with no decorations, it’ll put customers off. Apart from the Grinches who hate Christmas.’
She slipped behind the counter and then up the dusty, sawdust-scattered staircase. It felt weird that she hadn’t done this before. The room she found herself in was surprisingly bright, with a full view of the busy street – or it would have, if the windows were given a thorough clean. All the rooms on that floor were of generous proportions, and that included a basic-looking kitchenette and a bathroom. So, this was the place Evelyn had been talking about. She was spot-on, it was a gem going to waste. After a few minutes of rifling through piles of junk, she came across a rather unpromising-looking box of decorations.
The stairs went up another level and Ally was sorely tempted to rush up and have a quick gawk, but the image of Evelyn working away alone in the café sent her clattering back down the stairs. Still, she promised herself, as soon as she had a minute, she’d creep back up and have a look. But when would that be? Next week, the week after? Never? She had to keep reminding herself that her involvement with The Owl’s Nest had diminished. What right did she have to be up there at all?
She was manoeuvring the bulky box downstairs and round a tight corner, when she found herself face to face with Pete. As usual, her heart leaped, and judging by his face, he was feeling something similar. Everything felt slightly weird and she could see a look in his eyes of .?.?. hurt.
‘Hey, Pete, how are you doing?’ Ally could hear the note of regret in her voice.
He shrugged. ‘Grand.’
He didn’t look grand, and if her feelings were showing as clearly as his, neither did she.
