gluten intolerant, five couldn’t eat dairy and one had a severe allergy that would land them in hospital if they so much as sniffed a peanut, and with the best will in the world I hadn’t been able to cater safely for them all. No matter how nice Alice had been about it, I knew the loss of revenue was the last thing the Ginger Cat needed.
I felt my face almost split in half with a huge yawn, and Frazzle, following me up the stairs, yawned in sympathy. He’d been working the room all night, doing his best to charm the punters and make up for the failings of the kitchen, and it wasn’t his fault that the person with the nut allergy was allergic to cats too and had threatened to report us to the local authority’s environmental health department.
‘Oh well, Frazz,’ I said, fitting my key into the lock, ‘that’s tonight over, at least, Onwards and upwards, right?’
Frazzle rubbed against my legs to remind me that tonight was far from over, and wouldn’t be until he’d had his late-night snack and I’d cleaned out his litter tray.
The flat wasn’t in darkness as I’d expected. Jude had said that he was going back to his mum’s place that evening after work, and I’d assumed he’d stay over there. But he was sitting on the sofa, surrounded by the golden glow of what looked like about a thousand tea lights, dotted all around the flat like a flickering galaxy. Music was playing softly and there was an unfamiliar scent in the air, which I realised came from a reed diffuser perched on the counter next to the kettle.
‘Surprise!’ Jude jumped up and folded me into a hug.
‘Wow.’ I gazed around the room. There was a new throw on the bed, a vintage Indian blanket with little mirrors embroidered onto its surface, a seventies-style lava lamp in one corner and a fleshy-leaved plant in a brass pot by the bed. ‘You’ve gone full hippie chic. What is all this stuff?’
Jude laughed. ‘Mate of mine is doing house clearances for some extra cash. He came across a load of stuff in some old woman’s place in Dalston and gave me first dibs. What do you reckon? Adds a certain je ne sais quoi, right?’
‘It’s awesome.’ I’d never got around to buying anything much for the flat myself – I was too busy, too skint and didn’t have enough confidence in my own taste in interior décor. Besides, I was so used to feeling like everything in my life was temporary and any second I might be uprooted – or uproot myself – that the idea that this place was home still hadn’t properly sunk in, even after almost half a year.
‘Glad you like it. I thought, if I was going to stay here for a bit, I should probably contribute a bit more than just a warm body in your bed.’
I pressed myself against him, feeling his strong arms around me, his chin resting on my head. He was going to be staying here for a bit. I didn’t want to ask how long ‘a bit’ was; I worried that, if I tried to hold on to him, he might slip through my fingers like quicksilver, disappear just like he had that first morning.
‘You didn’t have to do this. Thank you.’
‘But that’s not all.’ Gently, he released me and turned towards my makeshift kitchen. ‘Romantic dinner for two coming right up.’
He produced a bottle of red wine and splashed some into two glasses, handing one to me. I hadn’t the heart to say that I’d already had dinner earlier, in the pub, and that, at nearly midnight, the only thing I wanted to drink was a cup of tea, ideally in bed.
‘Cheers,’ I said, clinking my glass against his and taking a sip. The wine was almost amber coloured and I could see dust on the bottle.
‘The old dear had quite the collection, and my mate let me liberate a couple of bottles,’ Jude said proudly. ‘This is a nineteen ninety something. Only the finest vintages to go with our midnight feast.’
‘I can’t believe you did all this. I thought you were going back to Bedford.’
‘I wanted to surprise you.’
‘Consider me surprised.’
He flicked on the kettle and tipped a sachet of instant noodles into two bowls. As always when someone was cooking for me, I felt the urge to dive in and help, but I resisted. This was Jude’s treat. I sat