The smell of pancakes and bacon drifted up the stairs. Jools, her head buried under the pillows, stirred and sat up. The sun slanted into her room, striping the window seat cushion with golden yellow bars.
She yawned and stretched. It was Saturday, and utter bliss to be able to sleep in until – she glanced at the alarm clock by her bed – half-past nine.
Half-past nine? Shit!
She flung back the covers and jumped into the shower. Jez would be here in less than two hours to pick her up. She had to hurry if she were to make herself presentable.
“Jools,” Oliver called up the stairs, “come and have breakfast. I’ve made pancakes.”
She paused in the act of towelling off her just-shampooed hair. “Can’t, Dad,” she called back. “No time.” Nor any desire to look at my Latin teacher – and your girlfriend – sitting across from me at the breakfast table. It was enough to put anyone off their appetite.
“You have time for a couple of pancakes and a rasher of bacon. Come on.”
Jools let out a sigh of aggravation. “All right, be there in a minute.”
She combed out her hair and stepped into a pair of jeans and a T-shirt; she’d change into something nicer after breakfast.
When she arrived in the kitchen and took a seat at the table, Felicity looked up from the toast she was buttering and smiled.
“Good morning.”
“Morning.” Jools reached for the syrup and drizzled a tiny bit on her pancakes.
“Sleep well?” Oliver asked as he joined them, coffee cup in hand.
Jools nodded. “Great, thanks.” She picked up her fork and cut into the pancakes. “Any plans today?”
“Jez is picking me up at eleven,” she said with exaggerated patience. “I told you. The fencing competition, remember?”
He glanced at Felicity. “So you did, sorry. Fencing, eh? That’s impressive. Is this boy in one of your classes? I’ve never heard you mention him before.”
“He just started at St Luke’s a few weeks ago.”
“Bit late to be starting at a new school.”
“His family just moved house from Aughton.”
Oliver took a piece of toast from the plate Felicity offered him. “What time do you think you’ll get back?”
“I dunno,” Jools said. “Three or four, probably.”
“Your dad thought we might go out for dinner tonight,” Felicity suggested. “The three of us.”
Jools opened her mouth to say ‘no thanks, I’d rather eat dirt’ or some variation thereof, but she caught her father’s eye and the words died unsaid on her lips.
Don’t, his expression plainly said. Or you’ll find yourself right back at your mother’s.
“Okay,” she said instead, and swallowed her irritation as she pushed her chair back. “That sounds great. Now I really do have to go and get ready. Thanks for brekkie.”
Then she fled back upstairs.
“I’m glad we could meet up for lunch,” Gemma said as she and Natalie settled at a cafe table in Clapton. “It’s been ages.”
“Since Christmas day,” Natalie confirmed, “at your wedding in Scotland. Which was gorgeous, by the way.”
“It was, wasn’t it? Despite Dominic nearly spending the wedding ceremony locked away in the dungeon.” She laughed. “Now,” she prodded as she leaned forward, “tell me – how does it feel to be pregnant? Is it amazing? You’re not really showing yet.”
“Well, other than the morning sickness, it’s great. I can’t seem to stop stuffing myself with cheese toasties and HobNobs, though,” Natalie admitted as she opened her menu. “I’ve never been so hungry in my life.”
“It’s so exciting,” Gemma sighed. “You and Rhys, having a baby! Do you know what it is yet?”
“No. We talked about it, but decided we’d rather wait, and be surprised.”
“Not me,” she said firmly. “When I’m pregnant I want to know exactly what I’m having straight away, so I can buy the baby’s clothes and do up the nursery properly.”
“Are you and Dominic back together, then?”
She nodded, and blushed. “Yes. Things are really good between us right now.” She paused as the waitress arrived to take their drink orders.
“I’m glad. So…the media flap over Dominic and Christa,” Natalie ventured as the waitress left. “The private jet, the tabloid photos…that wasn’t a thing, after all?”
Gemma shook her head. “Christa had to get out London for a bit. I really shouldn’t talk about it, but,” she leaned forward and whispered, “Dom said her boyfriend beat her up. He threatened to kill her the next time.”
“Oh, my God!” Nat stared at her in horror. “That’s awful! Why?”
“Because he’s a piece of crap,” Gemma said succinctly, “and because he’s involved in drug-dealing. He owes money to a gang of some sort. Turkish, I think Dom said.”
“She’s not still with this bloke, I hope? He sounds dangerous. And a bit scary.”
“No. That’s why Dominic took her away for a while – she was literally afraid for her life.”
“It’s strange, isn’t it?” Nat mused. “You think someone has it all – money, fame, a hit record – but their life can be just as crap as anyone else’s.”
As their drinks and basket containing two fat, warm breadsticks arrived, Gemma picked up her wine glass. “You told me there was more to the story, Nat, and you were right. Dom wanted to help Christa, and he couldn’t tell me about it without putting her in danger.”
“I’m glad he helped her. And I’m glad it all worked out,” Natalie assured her. “You and Dominic belong together. Which begs the question – when are you two having a baby of your own?”
“We’re working on it.” Gemma blushed again and took a sip of her Pinot.
“Good. It’s time you two started a family. Dom will be a great father.” Nat reached for a breadstick and took a bite. “Ooh, these are really good. So warm and crusty…have one.”
Gemma took a breadstick, thinking about how exciting it was to plan her own family, and laid it aside. “I can’t wait to have a baby, Nat,” she confided. “Dom’s chuffed, too, except for the nappies bit. And you’re right – I think he’ll be a fabulous dad.”
“Oh, absolutely,” Natalie agreed, her mouth full of warm bread. “Like Rhys, he already knows what not to do, thanks to his own father.” She paused. “Now, I have one more question.”
“Of course. Anything.”
She eyed Gemma’s plate hopefully. “You’re not planning on eating that breadstick, are you?”
“I hope you like pizza.”
Jez held out a chair for Jools and waited until she was seated before he sat down.
“I love pizza,” she admitted, and glanced around at the rough brick walls and red-and-white-checked tablecloths of the tiny Italian restaurant in Brixton he’d brought her to.
She felt a niggling stab of guilt. It was already three-thirty, and she’d told dad she’d be home by four so that they could all go out to dinner later.
Oh, well, that wasn’t happening now. Besides, she’d much rather share pizza and conversation with Jez than hang out with her father’s current bed bunny.
“Let me guess,” Jez mused as he studied her. “You’re a Sicilian-crust-and-white-pizza girl, aren’t you?”
“Sometimes. Not always. I bet you’re a thin-crust-with- extra-cheese-and-anchovies bloke.”
“Anchovies?” He regarded her in horror. “I’d sooner eat a sea urchin.”
“They’re a delicacy, you know.”
“Are they?” He grinned. “Let’s leave here and go and get you a nice big plate of sea urchins, then.”
She laughed. “With a side of anchovies for you.”
As they studied their menus, Jools could barely keep her eyes on the laminated page. Jez was…well, although she was loath to admit it, even to herself, he was amazing. Clever, attractive, funny – he was different to any other boy she’d dated.
And, she realized with surprise, she hadn’t thought once about Adesh.
She pointed to the middle of the menu. “Why don’t we try the ham and pineapple? That sounds amazing…”