Page 18 of Matilda’s Summer of New Beginnings

I have to admit, her dark hair, pouty lips and smoky eye make-up made me look pretty banal next to her — even with the mermaid-coloured blue and green highlights in my hair. The colours matched the swirly patterned wrap-over tunic (which used to be a charity shop maxi dress) I was wearing over cut-off jeans. Today my curls were piled high into a complicated bun, and my hazel eyes, made even greener by the mermaid highlights, were outlined with a touch of kohl and a swipe of mascara. I had at least perfected the winged eyeliner look, which I was quite proud of and happily exploited.

I was manning the coffee machine and passing hot, delicious-smelling, cheesy paninis and slices of Ziggy’s home-made pizza across the counter for takeaway orders. Meanwhile Angelina was dealing with the customers in the queue, occasionally sashaying across the floor to deliver food to the sit-in punters, and we had the place running like a well-oiled machine.

I was passing a bumper order for the accountants’ firm over the road across to Mel, the most junior member of accountancy staff and therefore the one tasked with the coffee runs and lunch runs, when I saw Jay come in.

He paused at the door and looked around the room, his gaze eventually settling on me. He flashed me a smile and waved hesitantly. My heart jumped, and I waved back and checked the clock. I had fifteen minutes of my shift left and just needed Bruno, Angelina’s cousin, to come in and take over. It was definitely a family business — Angelina was Ziggy, the owner’s, sister, so it was no surprise really that she got away with scowling and growling each day before ten o’clock. I sometimes wondered why Ziggy had employed me as their family seemed enormous, and every other member of staff was part of it. However, Ziggy’s enormous Italian family seemed to be often producing babies, so maybe they wanted someone a bit more long-term in post. Ziggy had gained three nephews and one niece in the time I’d been working there. Angelina was the only one of the siblings not to have a partner and a baby, and that status suited her very well.

Damien had tried on a couple of occasions to woo her, and that had failed miserably.

Anyway, today Jay was here, and was, I hoped, immune to Angelina. She beckoned him over. I don’t know if it was because I felt a sort of claim over Jay — but I didn’t want him bowled over by Angelina’s sultry charm when he was supposed to be my moral support for my very important mission to Julio’s. On top of the Polly situation, this would really be too painful to bear.

‘Hello Jay!’ I called. ‘I won’t be long. Then we can go.’

‘Oh, where are you going?’ Angelina asked. ‘And who’s this?’

‘This is Jay. Rosie’s brother. Jay, meet Angelina — Ziggy’s sister. And we’re going to an art gallery. We’re having a cultural afternoon.’

‘Lovely.’ Angelina smiled. I wasn’t sure whether “lovely” referred to Jay or the cultural afternoon, but I let it go. ‘Matilda is my lifesaver. I don’t become human until at least ten o’clock.’

‘It’s nice to meet you,’ Jay said. ‘Ummm — can I get a latte while I wait for you, please? I’ll just sit over there with it.’

‘What a gentleman.’ Angelina treated him to her brightest smile. ‘Some people would just sit. But you, Jay, friend of Tilds and brother of Rosie, are a true signore. So the coffee’s on the house. I’m family, I can do that.’ She turned to me and winked. ‘I approve.’ She then smiled at Jay again and turned her attention to a young man who had just come in for his regular Wednesday pizza slice.

I shook my head and smiled as I made the drink and passed it over to Jay. ‘You’re a true gent, apparently. She’s lovely, really. Definitely the face of the outfit. She’s the one who attracts the punters. And she was born in Clerkenwell, so don’t let her fool you with her wonderful accent.’

‘It is a pretty good accent,’ Jay said with a smile, ‘but she’s just admitted she doesn’t become human until ten in the morning, so you must be doing something right to get the breakfast brigade in.’ He took a sip of the froth on the top of his mug. ‘Or it could be the coffee they come for. It’s very good coffee.’

‘It’s all to do with the barista,’ I said. ‘And don’t worry. I won’t take offence at the idea that you think people prefer the coffee to my cheery face.’

‘Oh! No — Tilds. I—’ He looked at me, contrite. ‘I like your face. Oh God, sorry. I mean . . .’ There was an awkward sort of pause, where Jay flushed and I caught my breath, but then I forced myself to laugh, to show him that I hadn’t misinterpreted his comment.

‘I’m joking,’ I said. ‘I guess I am a morning person — but the coffee and breakfast sandwiches are what bring them in. I’m not deluded.’

‘Don’t put yourself down. Seriously.’ Jay locked eyes with me with such intensity that I almost dropped the mug I was holding. ‘Seriously . . .’ he repeated. Then he broke the gaze and suddenly grinned. ‘Are you looking forward to seeing this gallery? I want confidence from you when we’re there, oodles of confidence. Chest out, chin up, deep breaths, eyes and smiles . . .’ Jay demonstrated this and I snorted out a laugh.

‘You look bonkers!’ I said. ‘Is that what you teach the tweens?’

He nodded. ‘Yep. Seems to work.’ He shrugged and took another sip of his latte. ‘It’s the same principle for this, I guess. Show them you’re worthy of the wall space.’

‘Yes.’ I paused. ‘I do feel a bit bad for Damien though.’

‘Why?’ The question wasn’t sharp, it was simply curious.

‘Well if by some miracle I get into Julio’s and he’s tarnished with this awful reputation from the dreadful gallery, and I didn’t try harder to stop him . . .’ I let the sentence drift.

We’d ended up having a good evening on Sunday. It reminded me of why Damien was a friend, it was amusing watching him and Rosie bouncing off one another with their talk of male modelling and edgy, moody looks.

‘Do you think he’d be stopped? Don’t you think he would just assume you were jealous and trying to rob him of an opportunity? Would you pull out of something if he told you to?’

‘Absolutely not.’ I didn’t have to think twice about my answer.

‘Well there you go. I think you’re going to have to step back and let him come to his own conclusion.’

‘I suppose.’ I sighed. ‘Never mind. Look — time for me to knock off. We have a gallery to visit!’ I felt a little thrill of anticipation whizzing up and down my tummy at the thought. I always loved seeing art in art galleries — and seeing it in the quiet, supportive company of Jay was, I knew, going to be an absolute pleasure.

‘I’ll just finish this, then wait for you outside,’ said Jay.

‘Okay!’ I headed into the back room to take my apron off and collect my bag.