‘You ain’t seen nothing yet,’ I said, as ridiculously proud as if I’d been the joiner and glazier myself. ‘Come on, come and see…’
I broke off as Robyn took her hand from the wood, placing it on my arm. ‘Hang on, hang on a minute! This date of yours?’
I laughed. ‘Not sure you can call it adate.’
‘Not Andy?’
‘Andy?’ I frowned.
‘Andy, as in Joel’s social worker. He couldn’t stop looking at you. Seems like a nice bloke as well. Bit steady…’
‘Steady?’
‘Well, can’t imagine him setting the world on fire.’
‘He’s a social worker, not an arsonist for heaven’s sake! Social workers are meant to be steady. And dependable. It’s what they do!’ I’d already thought myself that Andy was a bit, you know, wooden, but could so do without Robyn, who had Fabian in her bed and her life, being a bit sneery about him even if she had got the wrong end of the stick about him.
‘I think he has hidden depths,’ I said loftily.
‘Good,’ Robyn replied. ‘Even though you’re dismissing him without actually finding out what those depths might be?’ Robyn was laughing at me now. ‘So go on then, if you’re not out with George or the admirable Andy…’
‘He’s not in the blinking navy… Mind you, I’ve always fancied a man in uniform…’
‘Admirable, not admiral.’ Robyn started laughing and put out a hand once more, preventing me from walking into the downstairs part of the restaurant. ‘You’re not going anywhere until you tell me.’
‘OK, a rather lovely man who is the father of Lola’s new best friend.’
‘Oooh?’
‘Yep. That’s all I’m saying, or you’ll start having Henry… hell, I let that slip… in the army.’
‘Or the air force? Henry? Chocks away!’ Robyn twirled an imaginary bomber command moustache. ‘Well, certainly sounds a bit more upmarket thanDean. Good for you. Where are you going?’
‘Oh, just round to his house for supper. The girls are there – Lola and this friend, Ruby, I mean.’
‘Supper? Not tea? Make sure you have yer tea first then if you’re just going round for a mug of Horlicks and a custard cream before bed.’ We both laughed at that. Mum, having been brought up a bit posh, always called the evening meal ‘supper’, whereas we were laughed out of the bike shed at Beddingfield Comp by the other kids if we ever used the ‘supper’ handle.
* * *
‘I can’t believe you’ve managed all this in just a couple of months.’ Robyn stared round, open-mouthed. ‘And the window’s been re-fitted as well?’
‘Only this morning.’ Kamran smiled. ‘I had them working overnight on it.’
‘Who on earth works overnight?’ I asked.
‘Anyone, if you offer them double time. Coffee? I’m trying to work out how this new machine works.’ The three of us moved over to the prepping and cooking area. All reflecting, shiny stainless-steel ovens, work surfaces, fridges and sinks, I reckon I’d need my sunglasses once I was actually cooking in here.
‘Hang on, I know how this works.’ Robyn frowned. ‘It’s exactly like the one we had in Graphite.’
‘Graphite?’
‘In Mayfair,’ Robyn said, laying her hands with some reverence on the machine. ‘I was a waitress there whenever I was resting.’
‘Resting?’ Kamran laughed. ‘Sounds like the Sunday joint…’
Robyn and I both tutted and Kamran went on, somewhat hastily. ‘So, you have waiting experience? And in a top London restaurant? Well, once the school folds…’
‘Is knocked down,’ Robyn retorted, giving Kamran a filthy look.
