The fire was dying down by the time we arrived at the club, but even seeing the remainder of the blaze left me gasping. My baby. My club.
I stood there in the early summer morning and watched as the firefighters fought to save my business. I’d never seen firefighters at work up close, but I couldn’t take my eyes from the building until the embers died out. I wrapped my hoodie around myself, and Brodie held me close. By the time the firefighters left, Jacques was standing at my left elbow, peering with tears in his eyes. They had taped it up, and we couldn’t go in, but I was frozen, unable to leave.
‘What happened, Jacques?’ I said, my eyes not moving from my club. My poor, wonderful club, so recently brought back to life. Everyone had put so much love in, so much care and attention into making it brilliant again. And now it was all gone.
‘I’ve been talking to the police, they’ll probably want to talk to you next.’ He sniffed. ‘I’m so sorry, Bel, honestly. You know how much I love this place.’
‘Was it something in the kitchen? Did Savvy do something differently? Was there an accident?’ I couldn’t stop talking. ‘I won’t be angry, I just… I need to know.’
‘The club was completely safe when I locked up around midnight. We were all tired, everyone had a good night. Everything was closed as usual. I got a call because Rajesh at the corner shop looked out of his window and noticed the fire. He called the fire brigade, and I came down. Then the police wanted to talk to me, and I got them to call you.’
‘Why the police?’ I asked, finally tearing my eyes away to turn to him. Jacques looked as awful as I felt.
‘They think it was Euan.’
I shook my head. ‘No, he was angry, but he wouldn’t have done that.’
‘The police said he had a lot of debts, to a lot of bad people,’ Jacques told me. ‘Add that to seeing him lose his wife to the man he always thought she preferred?’
‘Where did all this come from?’ I said. ‘The police knew about that?’
‘No, I told them.’
‘Well, was anything missing? Anything to help pay these debts? That would be the point, wouldn’t it?’ I could hear myself squawking.
Brodie stepped in, ‘Bel, it was the insurance money. You’re married, right? What’s yours is his? If he could convince you that it wasn’t worth reinvesting, or starting over? Maybe you’d throw a little kindness his way, out of guilt? For old time’s sake?’
I shook my head. ‘That’s way too far-fetched.’ Although I started to hear it, his insistence that giving up and starting over was the best way. That I didn’t have to struggle any more.
‘You know Euan. Insurance scams were his kind of scratch,’ Brodie said, shaking his head. ‘In his mind, nobody got hurt, but everyone got a payout.’
The idea that, however angry he was with me, he would be able to look at all the hard work and effort everyone in that room had put in and still destroy it, was unbelievable. And yet, I’d given him enough cause, hadn’t I? Not inviting him, not making him feel needed. Not loving him, not doing what he wanted, or being the payday he felt he deserved.
‘Where is he, is he safe? Did the police find him?’
‘Rajesh saw a man leaving – the fire brigade confirmed there was no one inside. Police haven’t found him yet. No registered address.’
‘So that’s it?’ I said, not sure how to take any more information in.
‘For now,’ Jacques replied, the dark circles around his eyes showing just how much responsibility he’d taken tonight. ‘They’ll want to question you, but I asked if it could wait till morning, I knew it would be a shock.’
That made the tears fall, and I threw my arms around my friend. ‘Thank you. I’m sorry.’
‘For what?’ Jacques spoke into my hair.
‘For doubting you cared as much as you do.’
He squeezed me tighter, then let go. ‘Well, now you know. I’m going to get some sleep for a few hours. I suggest you try and do the same. Let me know when you’re done at the police station. We’ll regroup.’
It was impossible to imagine sleeping. I’d need to run until my lungs gave out just to get rid of the adrenalin. I nodded and hugged him once more, before turning to Brodie.
‘There’s no way I’m sleeping,’ I said. ‘Will you come with me to the police station? I want to get it over with.’
A few days later, grey-faced and sick to my stomach, we convened to walk through the club, trying to save things. It was too painful to look at most of it. That soggy charred smell everywhere was the worst, a painful reminder that no history could be erased. The only thing we could save was the oversized Martini glass. That fact actually gave me the giggles, hysterical and unstoppable.
We met with the insurance people, we talked to the police, we talked to our neighbours. I holed up in the flat watching old movies, looking with glassy eyes as Brodie held me close, or sometimes my mother would come downstairs and make me tea and stroke my hair.
I watched Gone with the Wind four times. I was waiting for that moment, that moment Scarlett declared she’d do anything for her future, anything to scrabble and fight to survive – I was waiting to feel that same determination and pride I always felt at that point in the movie.
But nothing worked.
We had put so much time and effort into fixing the club. We had been so close. I just didn’t think I had the energy to try again. Maybe Euan was right, it was best to start over. Or throw in the towel altogether.
I’d found Brodie again. That haughty Bel mask was starting to wear thin. I was tired. Maybe I could find something else to do. Someone else to be. There must be something else I could love, something else I was good at.
There was a knock at the door, and I moaned, pausing the DVD. My mum had a key to let herself in. I’d given Brodie one too, mainly so he could come and go as he wanted without my minor life crisis getting in the way. He still had to go to work, after all. I was jealous of that.
I shuffled to the door like a zombie, exhausted and worn. I knew my hair was standing up on end and I was wearing a ratty bathrobe I’d found in the back of my wardrobe, from way before I’d become Arabella.
When I gripped the door handle, I had a sudden image of Euan standing there, apologetic and guilty. Or crazed and obsessive. I shook it away, and opened the door to find Savvy, holding two coffees and a bag of pastries under her arm.
‘What time is it?’ I blinked, taking the coffee before I even stepped back to let her inside.
‘Four p.m.,’ Savvy replied, looking at my flat, first with appreciation (the windows, the high ceilings) then a wrinkled nose (the dishes in the sink, the piles of laundry on the floor). ‘It’s also time to snap the fuck out of it.’
‘Excuse me?’ I felt drunk, twisting my body awkwardly to face her.
‘You’ve mourned, you’ve been in shock, you’re heartbroken. I understand. But enough is enough. I’m the tough love brigade, here to pull you out of your funk.’ Savvy looked at me with a steely eye as she sat at my kitchen table and pushed out the chair next to her.
‘Not much of a brigade,’ I grouched, sipping at my coffee. ‘I’m definitely broken, because if I wasn’t, I’d care about looking like this in front of you.’
I splayed my hands and then sat down, finding a biscuit in my pocket. I did at least have the decency not to eat it. I’d wait until Savvy had gone.
‘Also, I’m here to talk business.’
I laughed. ‘Don’t know if you’ve heard, but I’m not very good at that.’
‘Don’t be a big baby.’ Savvy narrowed her eyes, tugging at her pink-tipped hair. She looked sweet but strong in a white summer dress and silver Converse trainers. I noticed a thin tattoo on the inside of her left forearm, a bow and arrow with a glint of gold in the tip. Things really had changed.
‘You going to listen to what I have to say?’
I shrugged. ‘Sure, darling, nothing to lose, after all.’
‘You know that Milo and I have been looking into setting up a tapas bar. We’d thought Barcelona originally, then Portugal, then, somehow, Slovenia. But nothing was right. Nothing ever matched up to the Martini Club. I couldn’t love anything like I loved it. It was home.’
‘And now it’s gone,’ I added, pointlessly.
‘It’s not completely gone.’
‘It’s dust and soot and burnt, wet sadness.’ I was nonsensical, like a whinging child making up sentences.
Savvy leaned in and clicked her fingers in front of my face. ‘Bel, wake up and pay attention. I want to go into business with you.’
‘Why?’
‘Because I want to bring the Martini Club back, and better than ever, but I also want to bring my own flair to the menu, and break out on my own.’ Savvy was in full-on sell mode, and I struggled to keep up with her.
‘And what about Milo? Weren’t you meant to be doing this with him?’
She grinned. ‘That’s where it gets interesting. I’m still going to open a place with Milo. He’ll help with the set-up stuff here first. He got his degree, he knows all about the accounts, everything about set-up, he’ll make sure everything’s shipshape.’
‘But you won’t stay?’
Savvy pressed her lips together. ‘I want to create the menu, I want to hire the chefs, and I want to fly back every couple of months to do training, check in and create new dishes. I won’t be in anyone’s way and you’ll get along as before.’
‘But you’ll be a partner in the business?’
‘Actually, I want to use my money as a buy-in for Jacques,’ she said, watching my eyes for a response. ‘He wants to be part of the club, in a more tangible way. He can’t keep performing and he’s proven himself with all of this, hasn’t he? How much he cares about you and the club? How capable he is?’
I frowned. ‘Jacques loves performing. He loves being onstage. He only deals with the other stuff because he’s good at it and it lets him perform.’
Savvy shook her head. ‘I think you should talk to him about that. He’s proud, he doesn’t want to come barging in and begging you to be part of something, but you guys are an excellent team and he deserves this.’
Could that really be true? Jacques was my right-hand man, and he’d been the driving force behind trying to save the club. But I didn’t think he wanted more.
Yet, there had been jokes about his age, the excuses for putting other performers first, that wince as he’d held his position onstage that opening night… Jacques was much more than just a performer at the club. He did everything. Maybe he’d been trying to tell me all along.
Everything was suddenly starting to seem a little bit possible. A new start, as a team, rather than on my own.
‘Didn’t you want that money for your own place?’ I asked her. ‘How will you start up without it?’
‘Well, I imagine my reputation as the chef who designed the menu at the famous London Martini Club might give me a boost.’ Savvy grinned at me then reached across to pat my hand. ‘Look, we’re still figuring out our dream, we’re still learning and deciding where we want to build our life and I’m kind of enjoying the adventure right now. I want to keep travelling, keep seeing and tasting and learning. I can put my dream on hold for a couple more years whilst we save yours.’
‘I…’ I struggled to find the words. ‘Have you spoken to Jacques about it?’
‘Yes, I just came from his, where he’s currently unshaven, wearing a smoking jacket and making a list of everything you’d need to do to get back up and running. He’s not given up. He’s sad and heartbroken, but he still thinks there’s a chance. I didn’t tell him about the money, I just asked him what he’d do if he could do anything. He wants this.’
‘And what would I do? If Jacques is in charge, and you sort the kitchen, what’s my role?’
Savvy laughed. ‘You would be the same as you always have been – our leader.’
I sat there, trying to think about what she wanted, why she would want that. All those opportunities, cookery school, the chance to start up anywhere in the world, and it sounded like she cared more about the Martini Club.
‘What are you saying, darling?’
‘I’m saying, darling, that you created something wonderful on your own, but maybe as partners, the three of us, we could create something even better.’
‘I’ve been doing it alone so long, I can’t even imagine what a partner would look like.’
Savvy grinned, placing her hand on mine. ‘Don’t worry, I can. Let me tell you all about it.’