Read The Little Christmas Kitchen Online
Authors: Jenny Oliver
Startled, she looked up to see the guy from the balcony next to hers.
‘Sorry I didn’t make it to your party. I had a work thing–’
He looked different without his baseball cap on. His hair falling forward almost over one eye. He looked like he’d just got in, wearing scruffy jeans but a smartish navy shirt and was clearly freezing standing out on the balcony.
‘That’s cool. Don’t worry.’ Maddy shook her head. ‘Enough people came, I wasn’t billy no mates.’
‘Yeah I didn’t think you would be.’ He laughed, he had amazing teeth she noticed, and when he leant forward so his forearms rested on the lip of the balcony she studied his face, the shadow of stubble, his eyes sort of sleepy but bright, bright blue like the sky at home in summer.
‘You didn’t?’ she said.
‘Well you seem to have managed to get all of this lot talking.’ He nodded towards the windows of the other flats. ‘That’s a miracle. I got a leaflet the other day about starting up a committee for the block.’
‘Oh god.’ Maddy made a face. ‘What have I started.’
‘I know. I hold you personally responsible.’
Maddy laughed. He smiled, looked down at his hands clasped together in front of him and then back up at her from underneath dark lashes.
‘Are you going to play your guitar again?’ he asked.
‘I wasn’t going to.’ Maddy shook her head. The snow had started to fall again, drifting softly down and disappearing as it touched her skin.
He nodded.
‘Do you want me to?’ she said after a moment.
He smiled, shrugged. ‘Yeah. Yeah actually I would.’
Maddy felt herself blush, a bit nervous, excited. ‘I’ll erm– go and get my guitar.’ She nodded back towards the flat.
‘Ok. I’ll go and get a sweater.’ he said, pointing inside.
Maddy stood up to go back in but paused with her hand on the doorframe, ‘You know, there’s still loads of wine and beer, not much food, but some, if you, you know, maybe wanted to come–’
‘Yeah.’ He cut her off. ‘Yeah that would be really nice.’
‘Ok, well. See you in a second. Flat three.’ Maddy smiled.
‘Ok. Right. Yeah. I’ll be right there.’ he said, running a hand through his hair and then nodding as his mouth spread into a big wide grin.
Maddy backed up a couple of steps and then as soon as she was out of view bolted to the mirror to check her reflection, frantically combing her hair with her fingers, rubbing her cheeks then running to get some lip gloss from the bathroom.
When the doorbell went she bit down on her bottom lip and scrunched her eyes up tight with excitement. This was the dream. The parties, the people, the friendships, the snow, the possibilities.
Taking a deep breath, she opened her eyes and pulled open the door.
ELLA
Ella smiled her way politely through Christmas lunch. The mistral hadn’t blown the rain away, it was still pouring. The drains had flooded and there was a truck outside the window pumping out the water as they ate.
The food was beautiful. Pink lobsters with pots of melted butter that dripped onto their chins as they ate. Then red mullet wrapped in vine leaves and garlic infused rice. Followed by Christmas pudding, at their granddad’s request, lit and flaming when it was brought to the table. But Ella hardly tasted anything she ate.
Distracted, she watched Dimitri across the table chatting happily with her mum and gran while she half-listened to a story her granddad was telling. Behind Dimitri she could see the fibre optic angel sparkling and candlelight flickered over the nativity.
When Ella stood by the door later in the day, her granddad having a snooze in his armchair, Dimitri outside helping the guys with the drain, her mum came over and rested her hand on her shoulder. The feel of her so close was something Ella hadn’t realised quite how much she’d missed. The smell of her perfume, the same Penhaligon’s that Ella would sneakily dab a drop or two of behind her ears when she was small.
‘So you’re going home tomorrow?’ Sophie said.
Ella nodded.
‘I’m going to miss you.’
Ella kept her eyes focused on the rain, and the men as they battled with the torrents of water streaming over the road.
‘I’ll come and visit.’
‘It’s not the same.’ Her mum sighed. ‘I feel like I’ve just got my daughter back.’
Ella laughed. ‘Maddy’ll be home soon.’
‘You could stay you know.’ Sophie said, following Ella’s gaze over to where Dimitri was having a hectic looking discussion with one of the workmen, the rain battering them as they shouted above the noise.
‘I don’t belong here.’
Her mum shrugged. ‘Maybe. Maybe not.’
When Ella didn’t say anything her mum added, ‘Surely belonging is just a matter of where you’re happy?’
‘It’s not that simple.’ Ella said with a shake of her head.
‘Ella honey,’ her mum tucked a strand of Ella’s hair behind her ear. ‘Things are as simple as you want to make them.’
MADDY
As Maddy cycled through the snow to her dad’s flat in Battersea she tried to quash her nerves by remembering the night before. Her evening with Leo, the boy next door, who had nearly choked on
Christmas Spirit
but then sat up with her talking till dawn, listening to her as she played the guitar, telling her about how he was going to South by Southwest music festival in Austin and awkwardly asking her if she might want to come along. She’d never been to America she’d told him. He’d looked surprised. She’d told him she’d never been anywhere. He’d been everywhere. And when he told her stories they painted pictures in her mind like bright patterned quilts and she found herself wanting to go every place he’d been.
And then they’d slept side by side on the charcoal velvet sofa and in the morning he’d smiled when he’d opened his eyes.
The memory made her skin tingle.
But as she docked her bike and struggled through the snow in her inappropriate ballet pumps that she’d worn because they were pretty and it was Christmas, no amount of reminiscing could counter the anxiety of what was to come. What would Veronica do when she saw her? What would Maddy say to her dad? The invitation she’d been so excited about last night in the stark morning light seemed impossible, the day could only be one of awkward, polite chitchat and narrow-eyed glares from Veronica.
By the time she’d walked up the steps to the front door, Maddy was practically shaking. She’d had to grip onto the front garden railings because she was struggling to walk in her shoes on the icy pavement. She hadn’t had enough sleep, there was a touch of a hangover and she’d managed to work herself up into frenzy about the day ahead. She pictured herself being pulled aside by Veronica and reminded acidly that she’d warned her to keep away.
The snow was getting thicker and heavier, Maddy’s hair was wet, her face frozen. Her toes had gone numb in her thin leather pumps and as she reached for the doorbell her foot slipped on a patch of ice on the top step making her fall forward and bash into the front door with a thump.
It opened as she was scrabbling around on the ice trying to stand up, but as her shoes had nothing to grip she kept slipping, unable to right herself.
‘Madeline?’ She heard Veronica’s voice, saw her stiletto clad feet from where she was bent double on the doorstep.
‘Yep, hang on. I’ll be–’ But Maddy’s feet just slid back and forth on the step, the thin soles of the ballet pumps unable to get purchase.
She felt Veronica reach down and take hold of her arm to help her up, but as she tried to yank her forward Maddy slipped again, grabbing onto Veronica’s hand for support. The next thing she knew she’d hauled Veronica down on top of her and they were lying in a heap in the snow.
‘Ah
merde
!’ Veronica’s face was inches from Maddy’s. So close she could see the lines around her mouth from smoking, the mascara on her eyelashes, the foundation on her skin. Smell the heady mix of Chanel and cigarette smoke.
‘Oh god I’m so sorry.’ Maddy put her hands over her eyes as Veronica pulled herself up using the doorframe as support, thick flakes raining down on them. ‘I’m really, really sorry.’
‘It’s fine.’ Veronica said flatly, wiping the snow from her trousers and rubbing her elbow where she must have fallen on it.
Maddy tried and failed once again to get up and in the end just slumped against the stair rail. ‘I’m really sorry. It wasn’t meant to go like that.’
Veronica didn’t say anything.
Maddy looked up at her, ‘I know you hate me.’
Still Veronica didn’t reply, just stared impassive, irritated.
‘I’ve just got myself really nervous about seeing you,’ Maddy went on, felt the tiredness of no sleep make her eyes sag heavy. ‘And worried about what you’re going to say.’ Then she looked down at her feet and shook her head. ‘I shouldn’t have worn these shoes, and I’m just really sorry, I suppose. God, look I’ve ruined your trousers.’
‘You haven’t ruined the trousers, Maddy.’ Veronica sighed.
Maddy put her face in her hands again. Closed her eyes for one blissful second, imagined the white all around her was the duvet not the frigid snow. ‘I’m really sorry.’
‘Madeline–’
But Maddy couldn’t stop, she felt nauseous and exhausted, and cutting Veronica off moaned, ‘I’m sorry. I’m sorry that I didn’t come here sooner. I’m sorry that I got so cross about the audition, I just– I made such a fool of myself at it. It was so embarrassing.’ Then she paused, traced a line in the snow with her finger and said, ‘I’m sorry for what I did to your lives.’
She looked up at Veronica who was staring down at her, one eyebrow raised. Maddy couldn’t tell if it was a look of pity or disparagement. Then she heard the music in the background – her tape recording of
White Christmas
playing on the machine. Glancing past Veronica and into the hallway she saw on the side table her jiffy bag, her invite on the cream notelet, her apology.
‘They couriered it over from the office and he has played it non-stop since he got back.’ Veronica said as she took a cigarette out of her case and lit it.
Maddy swallowed.
‘You have a lovely voice.’ Veronica added, her hand going back to rub the bruise on her elbow.
‘Thank you.’ Maddy said quietly. She felt the cold of the snow seep through the bum of her black skinny jeans. More flakes were falling as she sat there, the sun picking up the flecks as they swirled in the breeze.
‘Would you like a hand up?’ Veronica asked.
Maddy looked down at the icy floor and then up at Veronica who put her cigarette between her teeth and then proffered her hand.
‘Yes.’ She nodded. ‘Yes I would. Thank you very much.’
ELLA
On Boxing Day Maddy and Ella’s planes crossed in the sky.
Maddy happily tucked into the weird chicken fricassee concoction that came with a roll and triangle of Dairylea and knocked back a miniature bottle of red wine, closing her eyes between mouthfuls and remembering her Christmas Day – the oysters and champagne on the balcony, her dad chinking her glass and looking at her like she was the crown jewels. Veronica offering her a pair of black patent wellingtons when Maddy discovered they were going out for lunch. The restaurant with the big glass windows and starched white tablecloths. The fish course with a crisp Chablis, the beef served with a Malbec the colour of blackberries, the fluffy white meringues with passion fruit coulis and a miniature glass of sweet Sauternes. Nothing in the way of a cracker or Christmas hat, but a few discreet glass jars of silver sprayed fir cones. Maddy had drunk it all in like a wide-eyed tourist, mesmerised.
When it was time to leave Veronica had kissed her on both cheeks, a wariness lingering still between them but there had been a noticeable thawing in their relationship. Her dad had asked if he could drive her to the airport in the morning and when he’d come to pick her up he’d come alone.
Maddy had climbed into the huge Porsche four-wheel drive, snuggled into the heated leather seat and savoured every minute of the half hour drive with just her dad.
At the airport he’d glanced over to her and said, ‘I think there’s just enough time for a Maccy D’s. What do you think?’
‘I think I’ll have chicken nuggets and a vanilla milkshake please.’ Maddy had replied with a grin.
They had sat in the car watching the planes, some dreadful boy band version of
White Christmas
playing in the background – ‘
Sorry it’s all I have on this, it’s my work iPod’
her dad had laughed,
‘They may be awful but they make me a lot of money’
– and they had talked about nothing in particular. She had mentioned the music gig in Austin, Texas, he’d said he’d be in New York around that time and she could come and stay at his apartment, if she wanted to, otherwise he could get her a hotel. She’d said she thought she would like to stay with him. And he’d nodded, turned back to his Big Mac and she’d watched out the corner of her eye as he’d tried to hide a smile.
While Maddy was reminiscing about all things Christmas however, on the other plane Ella was doing exactly the opposite. She had shaken her head to refuse the tray of airline food and was using the time to scribble down ideas for the Obeille mobile phone presentation, blocking out all and every memory of her Christmas. It was done, over. She’d smoothed things over with her mum, now she could move on and start afresh. Anything else was just fantasy.
Unlocking the front door of her apartment however she was confronted by a smell that hit her like a punch. The fresh, sharp tang of the Christmas tree mixed with her mum’s brand of washing powder, Maddy’s citrusy perfume and maybe even the lingering scent of food that she’d cooked while in Greece. It didn’t smell like her apartment.
Yet at the same time it smelt exactly like her home.
Leaving for work in the morning dressed in her favourite polaroid outfit of cobalt blue J Crew pencil skirt, white Stella shirt, leopard print belt and black leather Jimmy Choo boots, Ella was just locking her front door when the elderly woman next door came out and waved.
‘Oh you’re back, hello. Did you have a good time?’
Ella glanced over her shoulder to see if there was someone behind her that this woman was talking to.