The Christmas Promise Page 7

  Outside, the air was dank and the sky was just beginning to grow light above the street lamps. They strolled down to Gaz’s Caff, where other early birds huddled over coffee mugs and bacon rolls, and the air was heavy with the smell of fried food.

  Gaz’s Caff was neither recently decorated nor trendy. Sam, ignoring the years of neglect and thick paint, hung his coat on a wonky hook and sat down on a scarred bentwood chair at a small window table looking across the street to Sainsbury’s car park. He didn’t, as Harvey would have, gaze in astounded distaste at the pensioners tucking into a full English breakfast, wipe the chair before sitting his expensively clothed behind on it, or insist on going to Starbucks instead.

  He just ran his eye down the menu board screwed to the wall. ‘What are you going to have?’

  Ava turned to look. No salmon bagels. ‘Scrambled egg on toast and about a bucket of coffee, strong.’ Before she could push back her chair Sam was up at the counter.

  A big man with ‘Gaz’ written in marker pen on his hat waddled over, scrabbling his order pad out of the top pocket of his white smock. ‘What can I getcha?’

  ‘Scrambled egg on toast, twice, please.’ Sam turned back to Ava. ‘White toast or granary?’

  ‘Only got white,’ observed Gaz, pen poised.

  ‘White, then, and two of the largest coffees you have, double-shot.’

  ‘“Double-shot” just means two spoons of Nescaff here, mate, OK?’ Gaz scribbled it down. As he moved off he winked at Ava under the white cap that kept what was left of his hair clear of the food. ‘Hello, love.’

  She returned the greeting sweetly as Gaz flipped the lid off a catering-sized tin of Nescafé, happy to form a friendly connection with the man who held the fate of her coffee in his hands.

  She smothered a yawn as Sam carried two steaming mugs back with him. ‘Thanks.’

  He smiled an acknowledgement but once he’d resumed his seat, fell to gazing outside at the steely fingers of early light that touched the road.

  Ava cast around for a subject with which to start the conversational ball rolling. ‘Tod really enjoys working with you. Izz, too. No,’ she corrected herself. ‘Tod works with you but Izz works for you, right?’

  He shifted his gaze her way. Ava had once had a tiger’s eye ring that shone with the same browns and golds as his eyes. ‘That’s right. Tod’s an associate. The associates are freelance, paying rent and occupying space on a fully serviced basis. Tod’s a graphic artist, Manda Jane’s a media buyer, Patrick’s a writer, Jake’s a photographer and so on. I offer space at Jermyn’s based on area of PR, people skills, can-do attitude and client focus. We have individual areas of expertise but we have the capacity to form teams to work on specific projects.’

  ‘But Izz says she’s on a short-term contract, improving the agency network and database?’

  Stirring his coffee, he nodded. ‘The agency only employs one full-time member of staff, and that’s Barb. She runs front of house – greets clients, answers the phone, keeps the printers and photocopier going, makes coffee, that kind of thing.’

  ‘But I’ve heard Tod say that he thought the agency could use a full time techie.’ Ava massaged a point behind her ear that was giving gentle throbs.

  He took the first gulp from his mug and then sucked his top lip as if he’d burned it. ‘Probably, eventually. The agency’s pretty young so it’s too early to know. And,’ he added, carefully, ‘should that day ever come, I’d owe it to the associates to ensure that I hired absolutely the best person for the position, someone who would see what the agency needs and be able to enthuse others and get them on board.’

  Ava sighed, hearing what Sam wasn’t actually saying. It wouldn’t be Izz. ‘Izz can’t help being shy. It makes her a little bit awkward, that’s all.’ She took several sips of her coffee, choosing her next words. Even though her own business was as slow as a sloth she’d love to see things go well for her friend and, remembering the unguarded comments she’d overheard Jake make about Izz, she couldn’t quite let the subject drop without assuring herself that Izz wasn’t losing out for the wrong reason. ‘It must be hard,’ she said, ‘to be objective if, say, someone at the agency lets their personal feelings show for someone else at the agency.’

  Sam leaned back in the chair that looked small in comparison to his frame. Behind him a lady with a dandelion clock of white hair chatted to Gaz and two young mums with pushchairs giggled over their phones. His gaze sharpened. ‘We have a personal relationships policy. I would be disappointed if anyone at Jermyn’s showed partiality, or was discriminatory, based on personal feelings.’

  Ava slid him a sideways look. ‘Even if you suspected someone showed personal feelings for you?’

  ‘If that were to happen, I would simply maintain my professional relationship with that person.’

  The food arrived and Ava began on Gaz’s perfect, creamy scrambled eggs.

  It was Sam who broke the silence after munching his way through half of his first huge toast doorstep. ‘But, as you’ve brought the subject up and I would appreciate your perspective, does … anyone you know often find herself with feelings for someone?’

  No longer seeing any point in pretending that they weren’t talking about Izz, Ava admitted, reluctantly, ‘The last crush was on one of Tod’s housemates, Frankie. Until he got interested in drawing for comics, then she went off him. She really is not keen on comickers, even though Tod’s into it.’

  Beginning on his second raft of toast, Sam steered the conversation back in the arena of polite small talk. ‘You and Izz obviously get on well.’

  ‘Definitely. She’s a really lovely person, and fun when you make the effort to get to know her. I love living with her. She doesn’t intrude on my space, she’s always got enough food and her laundry’s always up-to-date. Secondary to that, I’m her lodger and she doesn’t overcharge me. It’s my home and my workplace and I’d never get anywhere else like that.’

  ‘And you said you’d known her since school?’

  ‘That’s right. We all lived close to each other in Hampshire. Izz’s parents are lovely. They’ve got a fabulous place with a pool because Izz’s dad designed some kind of simulator-type software years ago that earned him buckets of money. He used to be on TV shows about innovators and entrepreneurs as technology was just beginning to boom. We used to hang out at their place a lot. Izz’s house was full of eccentricity, Tod’s was full of books. Mine was aseptic in comparison. I wish my parents had been as cool then as to run a bookshop café, instead of having deadly serious high-stakes careers.’

  She mined a few more memories. ‘One day at school Izz was being picked on by this boy from two years above. I tried to come to her defence but the bully started shoving me around. Tod, who we didn’t even know then, waded in. So the boy turned on Tod.’

  Sam was looking interested so she carried on. ‘He got Tod by the shirt and got ready to punch him.’ She remembered Tod’s look of frozen terror as he waited for the blow to explode in his face. ‘So I kicked the bully in the nuts.’

  Sam winced.

  ‘The bully’s mates took the piss out of him for being beaten up by a girl. He left us alone, we began to hang out with Tod, and Izz wasn’t picked on so much. We went travelling together pre-uni, as well.’

  ‘Then I can see why you’re all such good friends.’ Sam, as if to emphasise his general niceness, caught sight of the dandelion haired woman heading for the door with her walking stick, and got up to open it for her.

  When he returned to his seat, Ava turned the conversation to him. ‘Tell me more about your role at the agency.’

  Stretching out his legs, he leaned back. ‘I’m a partner. The junior partner so far as money’s concerned. I used to handle media stuff for someone—’

  ‘Chilly, the football star,’ Ava put in. ‘Tod told me.’

  He inclined his head. ‘Aidan “Chilly” Chiltern. It was a fantastic experience but I was tiring of all the travelling and had begun planning the
agency for when I could finance it. Then Chilly got injured and had to retire anyway, so he put in a lot of money, and brought us an important client who has us on a media management retainer. I brought my plans forward and began putting out feelers for the right people. Open minded, self-starting, self-motivated, able to work under pressure to deadlines, reliable and giving clients what they want.’

  ‘Tod’s never been so happy as since he’s been at Jermyn’s.’

  Sam looked at her as if searching that statement for honesty. He must have been happy with what he saw because his expression relaxed. ‘Good. That’s what I want. Apart from trying to keep everyone happy, my role changes to meet circumstances, but I’m kind of a creative director. Brand image awareness tends to come into everything and that’s my background. I often advise on campaigns. I challenge briefs, suggest media and frequency, look at objectives and products and generally see where I can help. In a football team I’d be both coach and manager.’

  ‘And owner.’

  ‘Co-owner. Chilly’s the main moneyman. I’m just a workhorse with more to do and more to lose than the other workhorses. I’m also the guy who stresses about turnover and profit.’

  ‘Tod always makes the agency sound awesome,’ she confessed. ‘I wish I could afford you.’

  Sam smiled politely.

  Ava flushed. ‘That sounded like a big fat hint that you should give me help, heavily discounted.’ She pulled a face. ‘In fact, you can’t discount heavily enough for me to afford you. I’ll leave you to the celebs.’

  ‘Tod said he’d helped you with your website.’

  ‘Yes, if you mean “Tod made Ava a website and Ava chose the colours”.’ She checked the time. ‘I’ll text Tod after breakfast and see if he’s conscious yet, and whether Louise is speaking to him. She can be pretty judgemental.’ Which made her realise that she hadn’t asked Tod not to tell Louise about Harvey’s pictures. If he had, Louise would no doubt give Ava a long lecture and Ava so didn’t need that.

  Sam interrupted this unhappy thought. ‘I’m fetching my mother later today to stay with me for a few days. May I organise her hat fitting?’

  The thought that Ava was going to help make Sam’s mum happy at Christmas was instantly diverting. ‘Of course. I’m glad she’s well enough to come up to town.’ She was also glad that she’d be able to ask for a deposit.

  He propped his chin on his fist. ‘I’m not convinced that she is well enough. It’s less than four weeks since a quite major op but she’s determined and her doctor’s given her a cautious go-ahead.’ His brows curled down. ‘She wants to make the most of this Christmas in case … in case the future proves uncertain.’

  Shocked, Ava looked into his face and read his soul. Behind the scowl burned the fear that he was going to lose his mother in a way so harsh and protracted that he’d never afterwards be the same. She discovered a desire to reach out to him. ‘Then let’s make it as fun for her as we can. What would make it special?’

  He swallowed. ‘Just make a fuss of her. Make it into an occasion.’

  ‘I can do that.’ Then, as she saw Sam glance at his watch, ‘I’d better let you go, hadn’t I?’

  Sam went for his pocket.

  ‘Let’s split the bill,’ she said quickly.

  He had his wallet in his hand, now. ‘Really, it’s my pleasure to get this one.’

  But Ava had already pulled out her purse. ‘Thank you, but I like to pay my way. I’m sure you understand.’

  He stared at her with a hint of irritability. ‘Not really, as I’ve offered and I can afford it. But, fine, split the bill if you feel strongly about it, before you turn it into an opportunity to remind me that we’re not dating. I presume we’re still not? Christmas kiss notwithstanding?’

  ‘Everybody knows that Christmas kisses aren’t taken seriously,’ Ava protested, flushing at the memory of his mouth on hers and the way that she’d totally taken it seriously for the duration of the kiss.

  He stared intently into her face as if trying to read the truth. His voice dropped, so that only she could hear. ‘Even a kiss as hot as that?’

  The glow in her cheeks increased but she answered lightly. ‘You’re being unreasonable. I’ve already explained why I’ve given up on men for now, so it would be hypocritical of me to let you buy me a meal.’

  ‘Are you going to try women? Let me know if you need tips,’ he countered. They rose and made for the till in unison.

  She tried not to laugh at his expression of not-quite-joking frustration. ‘No, I’m not going to try women. If I did, I wouldn’t need tips. I am a woman.’

  He opened his wallet. Ava, opening her purse, decided it was time to change tack. ‘Anyway, are you suggesting that you paying would make it a date? That’s a bit old fashioned. Even if it was a date I wouldn’t—’

  Sam gave in with an impatient wave of his hand. ‘You’ve won, we’re meticulously splitting the bill. There’s absolutely no point in getting into date-paying etiquette with someone I’m not dating.’

  Bills paid – separately – they said their goodbyes to Gaz and strode out into the December morning. A weak sun was thinking about painting colour onto the streets.

  Sam halted her with a hand on her sleeve. ‘In case you were wondering, if we were on a date, it wouldn’t be here.’

  Ava hesitated. She was almost surprised that he still seemed to be thinking about her in terms of dating. She felt a dart of regret that she hadn’t simply said yes when she’d had the opportunity and that her unwillingness to let him buy her breakfast had somehow morphed into reinforcing their non-dating status. She’d been thinking about him a lot over the past week.

  He was at least a hundred degrees of hot.

  He wasn’t a shit, like Harvey.

  But the truth was … ‘Unfortunately, if we went somewhere lovely on a date I’d have to let you pay the bill because I’ve made big fat nothing in the last two weeks. I’m not the kind of woman who likes that.’ Also, she was going to have to ask him for a hefty deposit on his mother’s hat to be able to count on any income in the next week, which made things awkward.

  He paused in pushing his arms into his sleeves. And just looked at her.

  Then she realised she must be staring at him as intently as he was staring at her and felt an idiot. In her bag, her phone began to ring.

  As if it jolted him out of his reverie, Sam finished putting on his coat. ‘Dating or otherwise, I don’t see anything wrong with one person paying the bill if the other one’s going through a hard financial time. You’d better answer your phone.’ He lifted a hand in farewell and turned in the direction of the tube station. Then swung back, tilted Ava’s chin, stooped and brushed his lips over hers. ‘Thanks. About the hat.’ His voice was gruff. Then he turned and strode across the road, leaving Ava alone except for a feeling on her lips as if he’d touched them with a sparkler.

  Delving in her handbag, Ava halted, phone in hand, and groaned. The screen said Harvey. She hesitated. No! Yes? Her finger hovered.

  She stabbed the green button before the call went to voicemail.

  ‘I’m ringing to apologise.’ Harvey sounded sheepish and subdued.

  Ava watched Sam’s shoulders and head progressing above the stream of traffic. A shiver flitted down her neck. ‘Have you sobered up already?’

  He avoided the question. ‘I am really sorry. I shouldn’t have sent those texts. I’ve deleted the images.’

  Ava sighed. ‘It’s hard to know what to say.’

  ‘Say we can try again. I know I’ve been out of order—’

  Ava interrupted. ‘It’s the drink. You’re a monster when you drink. It doesn’t really matter what you say now, Harvey, because when you’ve got a few beers inside you you’ll be a completely different man. In Blaggard’s last weekend you threatened me and you were violent.’

  A pause. ‘I – I’ll stop drinking,’ he promised. ‘If that’s what it takes to get you back, I’ll stop.’

  ‘You should stop for
you,’ she said, as kindly as she could. ‘That’s the only logical reason. You’re the person you’re harming most.’

  ‘I really have deleted all those images now. On my phone and my iPad and my laptop. Even in the cloud.’

  ‘That’s fantastic. Thank you.’ She tried to feel relief. But relief didn’t come. Harvey had become about as reliable as a 99p umbrella.

  Those images could turn up anywhere.

  As Sam strode towards the station, he glanced back and saw Ava still standing outside Gaz’s Caff. Her coat was made of different flowered fabrics on a background of pale grey. She was completely motionless, like a pencil drawing in the weak light.

  He felt like a dog that someone had been teasing. Uncertain, irritable, but still wanting to go back for more.

  From his pocket, his phone sounded. For an instant he wondered whether it would be Ava. But Mum on the screen bounced fear into his chest. ‘Are you OK?’ he demanded the instant the call connected.

  ‘Oh, yes.’ Wendy sounded surprised that she might be anything else, as if the months of bad news and hospitals hadn’t happened. ‘I just want to talk about the Christmas shopping trip.’

  He had to stop and sit down on a seat in a bus stop as relief washed the strength from his legs. ‘Of course – sorry, my mind was on something else. I’m coming to fetch you this afternoon, if you’re absolutely certain that the doctor’s OK with it.’

  Wendy’s voice was determinedly calm and bright. ‘Yes, darling, we’ve already been through this. The doctor says I’m to carry on with as normal a life as I feel up to. The oncologist has agreed it will be OK not to start chemo until I’ve enjoyed Christmas, and that will let me recover a bit more from the op.’

  ‘So how much do you feel up to?’ He realised he was gripping the phone quite hard. He tried to unlock his muscles.

  ‘I feel up to me and Vanessa coming to London on the train.’ She sounded tentative, as if already hearing his objections.

  ‘But it’s already arranged for this afternoon. There’s no need to come on the train when I have a perfectly good car.’