* *
—
And then I’ve reached the entrance to the restaurant and my heart is pounding. Because standing up to Ryan was like a warm-up, but this is the real deal.
The maître d’ shows me to our table, where I find Uncle Ned lounging on a banquette, holding what looks like a gin and tonic. Jake is holding one too, and Nicole has a glass of what I’m sure is champagne.
“Fixie!” Uncle Ned greets me. “Take a seat. Have a drink, m’dear.” His face is nearly as red as the velvet seat. Did he start early? Looking around at the flushed faces, I wonder: Did they all start early? Jake’s eyes are bloodshot, I notice, and he still has those shadows under them.
“What?” he says defensively, as he feels my eyes on him. “Oh, by the way, I’ve got some good news for you. Ryan’s back in London.”
“I’ve just seen him,” I say shortly as I take a chair. “And it’s not good news.”
“Now, I rather like the look of the porterhouse steak,” says Uncle Ned, squinting at a big leather menu.
I bet he bloody does, I think—but force myself to stay calm. I’m a ninja, sizing up my opponents, slow and focused, before I strike.
“Would you like a drink?” a waiter asks me.
“No, thanks,” I say politely, and wait till he’s gone before adding, “I won’t spend Farrs’ money here. This is totally inappropriate. Totally inappropriate,” I repeat for emphasis, and jab at all their expensive drinks with my finger.
“What?” says Nicole blankly.
“Inappropriate?” splutters Uncle Ned.
“What exactly are we achieving here, except spending money?” I look from face to face. “Nothing.”
“Now, really.” Uncle Ned’s face becomes puce. “Here I am, giving freely of my time and advice—”
“Do you even know how our sales are doing?” I cut him off, sweeping my gaze around the table. “Do any of you? But here you all are, ordering cocktails and steak. It’s freeloading and it’s revolting and I’m not doing it.”
“What the fuck!” exclaims Jake, staring at me. “What’s got into you?”
“It’s her new boyfriend,” says Nicole, in sudden inspiration. “That’s what it is. He’s put her up to it.”
“What new boyfriend?” Jake swivels to face her.
“Sebastian Whatsit. The guy who was Ryan’s boss? She’s, like, practically living with him.”
“You’re going out with him?” says Jake incredulously. “The investment guy?”
“That’s irrelevant,” I say shortly. “And I have some other things to say.”
My words are hovering in a thought bubble, like they always are, all neatly formed. Come on, Ninja Fixie. Say them.
I draw breath—then make the mistake of glancing at Jake. His face is so aggressive that for a moment I can feel the old feelings resurfacing. Inadequate. Guilty. Inferior. Rubbish.
But I have to punch through those feelings. Go, Fixie, go.
“Nicole, you have to cancel all your yoga,” I say firmly. “It’s disruptive and it hasn’t attracted any new customers; it’s just made problems. It has to stop and I’m restocking the shop, my way.”
Pow.
“Disruptive?” says Nicole, sounding offended.
“Yes, disruptive. And, Jake, for you I have a question.” I turn to him, forcing my voice to stay steady. “Why are you borrowing so much money from Farrs and when are you paying it back and why wasn’t it mentioned at the last meeting?”
Bam.
I can see the light of shock in Jake’s eyes, but almost at once he’s regained his swaggering demeanor.
“It’s an inter-business loan,” he drawls, taking a sip of his drink. “Really, Fixie, you are getting your knickers in a twist.”
“I didn’t know we could take out loans,” says Nicole with interest. “That’s cool.”
“We can’t!” I practically shout. “Why do you need loans from Farrs, anyway, Jake?” I say in a calmer, more diplomatic voice. “What’s going on? Why didn’t you just say to us this was happening? And why keep it from Mum?”
I lean forward, trying to get through to the man I saw the other day. The one who talked to me with respect and affection, who felt like a real brother.
But that Jake has vanished. This one won’t even meet my eye.
“Nothing’s ‘going on,’ ” he says with elaborate sarcasm. “I’ve had a holdup in Asia. It’s simply a cash-flow thing.” He sounds dismissive, although I can see his fingers clenching the menu tightly and a vein throbbing at his temple. “You’re really quite unsophisticated, Fixie. Do you have any idea about global export deals? No. So take it from me, there’s nothing to worry about. Now, are we going to order some food?”
“Yes,” says Uncle