26 July 2011

Have You Ever


... wanted revenge?

We say no words in the back of the black cab, Frieda is morosely quiet - usually she's harping on about her lifestyle, the people she knows or the designer clothes and shoes or people who make those commodities - but it's eerily quiet and that's got me thinking.

We arrive at my house and I silently let her in, thankfully no one is home to witness her arrival so I have time to text everyone to let her know that she's here.

"Do you want something to drink, eat?" are the first words I offer her.

She nods, "I'm okay, thanks. Just tired."  She sits stiffly on the couch, staring at the wall.

I head to the kitchen and grab a glass and pour some orange juice.  I don't know why on earth I brought her here but some where deep inside me, I do feel sorry for her.  I pull out my iPhone and text Toni, Ronan and Charlotte about her and Ronan immediately texts back and I can already hear his gasp of utter horror.

What the fuck is she doing there?

No holds barred, that's Ronan for you. I text back and he replies.

Pregnant or not pregnant- does she remember what she did to you?!!!

I can't get into this right now, I really can't. I read the message again and exhale.

"I'll be out of your hair in a minute," my sister says from behind me.

I turn around to see that her eyes are red and her make-up's mashed up with all streaky tears.

"I don't think I know what love is," she begins and I stay quiet, "If I knew an ounce of what it meant, I wouldn't have betrayed you, nor would I have slept with your boyfriend and then continued to sleep with Hartley in spite of still being with someone else. I think that's one definition of being a bitch, right?"

I can only think of what a stellar performance this is- there used to be a time when I believed this crap and I got sucked into it, but not anymore, "When are you going?"

This time she exhales, "Soon, I'm going to mum and dad's - I just don't want to burden you with this, we haven't seen each other in two years or so and it's unfair that I should dump this on you- when frankly, we didn't exactly leave on equal footing."

"My footing was fine- it was yours that mis-stepped," I point out.

"I deserve that, would you call me a cab please... I'm going to stay at the Lanesborough- whilst I figure out my next step," she says hortily. I'm back to being just another servant for her, easily dismissed as usual.  My iPhone pings with a message and it's from Ronan.

You never guess who I am having a conversation with- of all the fucking places in London?! Hartley Armstrong.

I text back, looking at Frieda who has fallen asleep on my couch. I don't have the heart to wake her, to tell her... I text Ronan back quickly. He texts back.

He looks dishevelled but lush.  Could eat him on a stick.

I roll my eyes, some things never change with Ronan.  He texts back, it seems the power of Ronan has somehow got Hartley's jaw going (and no, not like that). It seems he's trying to track down Frieda St. Claire.
My sister. Ronan texts back and says, he won't tell Hartley where she is because frankly, Frieda St. Claire doesn't deserve happiness. I'm taken a back by his loyalty to me, above any superstar.  Ronan has been there through the trials and our friendship is super tight.  If he were straight, he would make the perfect boyfriend but hey, you can't want something that can never exist, right? There's an incoming call coming in and it's Jack, I head out into the garden to take it.

"Frederica, what's up?" his voice is deep, husky and there's concern written all over it.

"What do you mean?" I say, a tad confused because I really don't know what he means.

"I went to your shop and it's closed, thought it was odd because you're usually open," he says.

"Oh yeah, err.... ummm," I don't quite know how to talk about family stuff- I mean, are we a couple? Or is he just a friend?

"Spit it out," he says jokingly.

"Frieda turned up and I'm just trying to sort the situation out,"


"Long story-"

"Brought all her drama with her then?" he comments.

"What do you mean?" even more confused.

"I was passing the Evening Standard stand y'know and there's your face and hers on the front cover Double Trouble- seems the press are having a field day, knowing that Frieda St. Claire has a twin."

"Crap!" I utter. This is not good, not good at all.

"Have you eaten?" he asks. changing the subject.  My stomach growls and he laughs, "Do you mind if I drop by with some munchies?"

"Now's not a good time Jack, she's here," I say in annoyance, because I would really like to see him.

"I'm not coming to see her, I just wanted to see you... and by the sounds of it, I think your stomach wants to see me too, as I'll be bringing some food," he laughs. Oh, how sweet he sounds.

"Sure, come on over... just drop call me when you're at the door, so not to wake her."

We say goodbye and my heart does a somersault.  Some things never change.


Frieda is still asleep when Jack arrives and we creep outside into the garden and Jack opens up the food packages of home made humous, kofte, doner, pilaf and Turkish delight and we get stuck in.

"Thanks for coming by, it's so nice to see a friendly face," I say in between bites.

"No problem, so what's her problem?" Jack doesn't sugar coat or anything, he goes right in for the punch line.

I exhale, "She's pregnant." And I proceed to fill him in on the details.

At last he replies, "I guess she's your sister at the end of the day, even if she hasn't been a gracious sister at that- if the roles were reversed, would she be as accommodating?"

I never really thought about that, I take a while to answer because in actual fact, I don't think she would.  She wouldn't have the time nor the energy to spare a few minutes of her time.

"There's your answer," Jack says.

"I guess so- I've always felt like an only child, which is quite ironic considering, well, twins are meant to be solid, tight... my twin sister and I, are sadly not."

"Is that something you wished you had had with her?" Jack asks.

"You make it sound as if she's dead or something," I say.

"Well, yeah... by what you've told me of her, she sounds like a self centred cow," Jack says.

"Hey! You have no right to say that about her... you don't know her,"  I say indignantly.

"Quite frankly, I don't think I would waste my time wanting to get to know her, she's obviously spineless just turning up here after how many years and to think you would allow it- and you said so yourself, she slept with some hotshot guy when she was with her boyfriend, by the way... was your ex... how is that not categorically wrong?"

I'm quiet, I know that what Jack says is the truth but I can't seem to grapple with it and before I can answer- Frieda is standing behind us, fuming.

"And who the fuck are you to hold judgement?" comes her threat.

Jack spins around in his chair and doesn't bat an eyelid.

"I said, who the fuck do you think you are?" her shrill voice says.

"We were having a private conversation Frieda," I begin.

"Yes, you may be having a private conversation Fred but the topic was about me and I don't like people talking about me," she screams.

"Then you're in the wrong business then, aren't you?" Jack sarcastically says.

Frieda looks from me to Jack and I can see her hand making it's way towards his face.  Jack grabs her hand before it hits his face and shoves her backwards into the house.

"Are you going to allow him to treat me like that Fred?" Frieda says to me.

I touch my temples, not this again, why can't she just avoid these confrontations, these hissy fits.  Surely this amount of confrontation, this stress is doing more harm then good, especially now that she's pregnant and all. 

"Frieda, he has his own mind- as do you but God help me, if you continue to act like the spoilt brat that you are, you will just have to leave."

"Oh, so you're choosing him over me... is that right?" Frieda says with venom.

Little does she know, that two can play at that game, "Like you chose my boyfriend over me? Don't try pulling that fast one on me, sis.  God, I'm fed up with this shit.  Why is it you just manage to complicate things everywhere you go, does Hartley know what he's got himself in for with you?"

Frieda is fuming and when I say fuming, she's hyperventilating but before we know it, her eyes are rolling to the back of her head and she falls in a heap on the floor, banging her head on the glass coffee table on the way down. Oh lord, I better call the ambulance.


Of course, the famous actress that my sister is can only mean one thing... she attracts attention wherever she goes and of course, before no time, my parents get hold of this information and they're calling me, fuming at me, calling me careless and... well, I don't really need to go into detail but they're pissed off. They're coming on the first flight out to see her and take care of her, little do they know she's harbouring a secret, her pregnancy. I'm used to this treatment, I'm always the odd ball- the less successful and smart one in the family, no matter how many accomplishments, how many successes I have notched under my belt, I have never really been good enough.  They have always prized my sister on being famous, being in films knowing people and I guess in that sense, their sight is flawed.  I know they love me, but they love my sister more and sometimes, I wish I were an only child purely for the fact that I wouldn't have to feel like I ought to compete with my twin sister.

At the moment, my sister is getting checked out by one of the residents at the hospital- security has been dispatched at her door, preventing unwanted visitors - her status as a Hollywood actress has garnered that accolade.  Jack has happily come with me for the company and we're sitting outside in the waiting area.  I exhale, close my eyes and just wish this day is over.

"I'm not going to apologise for what I said about her," Jack says.

"I know and that's fine, I don't care... I don't care about what's said about her, I don't care about her, I just don't care anymore."

My admission is what does me in, I just break down. I never asked for this... I never asked not to be loved as an equal to my sister but there's no use in asking or wishing because I know some how it'll never come to any of it.

Jack takes my hand and squeezes it, "You should tell your parents how you feel."

"What's the point? They won't listen to me, they never have." I say with disgust, my parents have never listened to me, so what's the point of starting now.

"You should try, they're probably set in their ways by your sister... by the way she is, she's probably fed them a bunch of lies or something..." Jack tries to convince me but I'm just too tired to do anything.


It's a few hours later and it's late evening, I have been checking in on Frieda every so often and she's been asleep for the majority of it.  My parents have just called to let me know that they have landed and are on their way to see her.  There is no 'us' in the equation.  Their beloved daughter is more their concern then the fact that she comes in a set. 
Jack left a few hours ago, he had to get on with work and work stops for no one.  I'm still trying to figure out what we are, because I myself am confused but I'm just happy that he was there for me, when I needed a friend. Back to work tomorrow - then I can really concentrate on the big orders.

My parents pass me, as they head towards my sister's room.  I stand up and call them back, "Mum, Dad!"  They stop in their tracks to look at me and are almost annoyed by the interruption, they come back, kiss me on the cheeks and waste no time in asking about Frieda, of course, I love my parents too much to stretch their time, so I point to the guard who's standing outside her room.  They go in and all I can hear is the soppy kisses and hugs they must be showering my sister now.  I notice, they hadn't invited me in, so like a lost puppy I walk into the room and stand in the very corner.  Frieda is explaining the circumstances and of course, she twists the truth round to suit her and I'm seen as the bad guy, my parents barely notice I'm in the room and I can hear Frieda's horty voice bouncing all the walls, the one thing she hasn't told my parents is the fact that she's with child and she doesn't know who's it is.  God, I want so badly to speak up and be the bearer of bad news but, it's just not my decision to make and I'll just come off as shallow and attention seeking, which is what my sister is and has always been.  She's an actress, after all.  It's in her nature to seek attention and feed off from people.  Oh Lord, she's definitely letting it rip with the tears now.  I can't bear it any longer, I reach for the door and am about to turn the handle when the door swings open and a tall broad man walks in and looks straight at me.  He looks at me, as if assessing me and then his eyes pan out to the three shocked faces to the side.  He smiles at me and then his face changes to thunder and addresses Frieda at the foot of her bed.

"Is it true?" his voice is stormy as he directs this one question to my sister.

"Is what true?" my sister plays at being coy.

"You're pregnant and you don't know if it's mine," he says.

Frieda looks at me with disgust in her eyes, "I told you not to tell anyone."

"I didn't," I say simply but it's Hartley Armstrong that comes to my defence.

"She knows nothing about this, leave her out of this," he smiles at me, "You should count yourself lucky to have such a great sister like her, pulling you out of paparazzi scrums, putting up with your lies and bullshit.  What I want to know, is whether that child you're carrying is mine or if it's Eric's."

My mother looks like she's been hit by a thunder bolt.

"I repeat, is that child mine or his?" Hartley says.

"I don't know," Frieda says.

"So you slept with me whilst you were with someone else? Why didn't you tell me you were pregnant... do you think I would be so unfeeling towards you to know that I would turn you away from knowing I fathered a child?"  Hartley says with disgust and I can tell my parents are just as shocked as he is.

I quickly exit because I don't want to be included in anymore of this drama, no one stops me but I feel like justice has been served - at least they know the truth about my sister and how manipulative she can be. She will just have to face up to it.

I take a cab home, looking forward to home and bed.

22 July 2011

Have You Ever


... thought about balance?

Never judge a book by it's cover- that also includes restaurants as well.  Jack and I have walked into a restaurant that, from the outset looks like they got their toddler to design- but the food is simply divine and I'm eating like a pig, forget about manners, the food is too good to eat like a lady.  I'm not sure I'm coming across exactly right either but I'm past caring.

"How's your grandmother?" I ask because it's been a while.

"She's great, hilarious as always.  She's down in Devon at the moment with friends," Jack says in between mouthfuls, "How's Lottie?"

He means Charlotte my flatmate, I haven't really seen a lot of her lately because she's been at various exhibitions, showcasing her work and I haven't really caught up with her, I tell him this and he nods as if understanding. We talk in between mouthfuls and share a few tidbits in between, about her lives, her childhoods, friends, that sort of thing but we don't dare go into discussion about our love life's because let's be clear that is non existent at the moment.  Kinda sad really, I have a great career, I love what I do but it's hard to maintain a balance, because balance is everything, isn't it?

"What's wrong? Don't you like what you're eating?" Jack asks.

"Oh no, I love the food, I just... was thinking that was all," I say.

"What about?" he asks without reservation.

"Oh y'know stuff," I say vaguely.

"If you don't wanna talk about it, that's perfectly fine- you were frowning, I was beginning to think you weren't enjoying my company, that was all," Jack said, taking a swig of his root beer.

"Can I ask you a really random question?"  he nods, "Do you find it hard to meet people... like, never mind... silly question." 

There's a silence between us.

"Yeah, of course. I'm cooped up in my studio at all hours of the night and day, I really don't have a chance for much right now, you?"

"The same."

"Do you wish it were different?" Jack asks.

"I guess, you always want something you don't have... I guess so."

"I don't think I would be a particularly great boyfriend though... my job is pretty stressful and unless she likes watching me work, that would be date night."

I nod in acknowledgement - so he's not seeing anyone at the moment, that's cool. Why am I pleased?

After a while, he pays for dinner where I battle him out to pay for my share but he insists it was his idea and pays for everything.  We walk out into the humidity and he offers to walk me home, where I insist he doesn't need to.  Chelsea's a safe neighbourhood- but he insists and I don't really have a choice. He's bigger and burlier then I am, so I don't really have a choice.

Home isn't that far away and we walk and talk as if like old friends and then we reach my front door, it definitely feels like a first a date, especially one that is without the pressures.

"Wow, it's been a long day... I was meant to go to Paris today but with the ash cloud and all..."

"Has anyone ever told you that when you're nervous, you babble."

"I'm not a babbler, I simply like to fill awkward silences with my reputable babble... yeah, maybe I am a tad nervous, I'm only nervous now because we're out here and we didn't exactly leave on great circumstances and well, I'm sorry for that and I just really..." I was on the edge of losing breathe there and all of a sudden Jack closes the gap between us and kisses me, smack-bang-thank-you-mam right on the lips. His arms are curling around my waist and he's kissing me like he's been without kissing for centuries and perhaps that is a slight exaggeration but I can't describe it any other way. He draws away and looks intently at me.

"You're blushing," he speaks.

And somehow I don't have anything to say, stunned and speechless.

"I think I might have kissed you to silence," he jokes, grinning.

I nod.

"I gotta go, early start tomorrow... I'll try swinging by sometime tomorrow to help you out with whatever needs doing, thanks for tonight and everything," he leans forward and plants a simple sensual kiss on me, smiles and waits whilst I let myself in, I smile as I close the door on him and lean against the door.

"What are you smiling about?" Ronan quips as he catches me in my reverie.

"Nothing, can't I just smile?"

"No, there's always someone or something that brings a smile to you Fred and I suspect it's a man," Ronan remarks, spot on.

I walk towards the steps, "I'm beat, I'm off to bed..."

"Don't worry, sooner or later, I'll get it out of you," he smiles and I run up the stairs to bed.


The following day, I'm a lot more casual then I was previously- I decide to wear skinny jeans, red ballet pumps and a stripey jumper on the exception that I wear my hair up in a tight pony tail, only as I'll be baking and designing.  I open shop, allowing Keira a lie in before she comes in and starts serving at eleven o'clock.  Thankfully, it's quiet and I've served a few early risers with red velvet and banana and chocolate iced muffins.  I've put the radio on and ice cupcakes at the till. 

I get a call ten minutes later, there's a burst pipe in Keira's flat and there's water everywhere, her and her boyfriend have to clear up the mess and organise a plumber to come in and fix it.  It's fine, these things happen, I tell her to take the rest of the day off and get it sorted.  It's quiet still and it's midday, the bell above the door jingles and I look up and I can't believe my eyes- what the fuck is she doing here?

"Hi sis," my sister... my snotty, back stabbing sister says, she's lost weight and she has her suitcase with her. I can only fathom one thing.

"What do you want Freida?" I say, leaning back in my chair, folding my arms.

"I need your help," she simply says, and she exhales, biting back tears.  I have no sympathy for her.

"Please Fred, I had no where else to go and we are sisters after all, aren't we meant to help each other?" she says, trying to turn the tables on me.

"No, I stopped helping you the moment you broke the unwritten rules between sisters Frieda," I say flippantly, carrying on icing.

"I'm sorry, I was a bitch back then... but I need your help," she pleads, out of all the time I've known my sister, she has never once pleaded with me.

"Well you've come to the wrong person haven't you?"

"I'm pregnant Fred," she simply states.

I look down at the icing bag in my hand, I'm cruel but I'm not that cruel.  I exhale, "I'm listening."

She moves her suitcase out of the way and starts crying, "I don't know what to do, I'm not ready for children.  I don't have friends I can rely on over there." She's a blubbering mess.

"Can't you go over to mum and dad's?"

"No, they'll only ask questions I have no intention of answering."

"Like who the father is? Who is the father by the way?" I ask, the last I had heard she was still together with my ex.

There's a pause, a very pregnant pause... no pun intended.

"It's not his... it's Hartley Armstrong," my jaw hits the floor. 

Hartley Armstrong is a bachelor by the highest degree, he has slept with almost every actress, model, singer, thespian etc.  He's been known in the past to break it off with women who start hinting at marriage and babies - he doesn't do either, but he is gorgeous, he's your rough and rogue kind of guy. So, my sister has been bedded by a superstar.

"So what is it you exactly need? Help to figure out who's it is or what to do with it?" I ask her.

"Both-" she says, "I don't know what to do,"

"For starters, you need to tell the father," I say.

"But I'm carrying the baby," she says, in all her naivety.

"Yes, but you had sex and when the egg meets the sperm that equates that," I throw back at her, "What did you think would happen, the stalk would deliver a baby to you?"

"Still as sarcastic as ever, I see," she replies back.

"What did you expect, arms wide open, after the shit you left behind, the pieces I had to piece back together ON MY OWN!" 

"Calm down Fred- this isn't helping," Frieda says, touching her temple.

"I'm sorry, if my welcome isn't satisfactory to your showbiz standards- but here on earth, if you make your bed, you certainly have to lie in it.  I can't help you, I wouldn't know where to begin and I'm sure with your money you can certainly pay someone to think up things for you."

"You're a heartless bitch, y'know that Fred!" she screams, grabbing hold of her suitcase and slamming the door open but pausing.

"Takes one to know one," I reply back.

I watch her storm off down the street and carry on icing, it bears no impact on me.  I'm used to my twin sister, dropping by when it suits her and expecting everyone in her path to take care of things. It's about time, she took responsibility for her actions. 

I decide to close the shop, because I hate it when my sister disrupts a perfectly good day- I'm going to do something exciting, I'm going to go shopping.

Only, when it comes to shopping- my sister has the same idea. I bump into her on the Kings Road and am caught in a paparazzi scrum.  Who the heck alerted them? I head in the opposite direction only to pause- it's my sister, if anything happened to her, it'd be on my head... she's pregnant after all with my niece, nephew.  Despite all the shit that has happened to her, she's still my sister, I grab her arm and drag her into the nearest black cab and head off.

21 July 2011

Have You Ever


... wished things were easier?

It's a disaster- first my flight is cancelled due to this unforsaken ash cloud that seems to be dithering around Europe and second, I forget my passport which is probably a good thing considering there are no flights to fly out of London.  Is the universe trying to tell me something here?  I want to go to Paris, I will bake to get there, if at all humanly possible. 

So, I head home with my tail between my legs like an idiot- I find my passport on the mantle piece where I left it in my hurry and plonk down on the nearest chair and try to book a seat on the Eurostar, unfortunately, everything is booked up and they're not even putting on extra services, this is not looking good whatsoever.  Paris is not looking good. 

An hour and a half later, Paris is not looking good - I'm gutted to the extent that I won't be enarmouring myself in Paris' culinary reputation. Gutted.  I head towards the shop in my Parisian chic, Louboutins, a plaid skirt and a top to go and my hair was even Brazilian blow dried too.  Keira looks up as I enter the shop and she looks confused, I know how she feels. 

"I thought you were supposed to be on your way to gay Paris?" she says.

"Supposed to is the understatement of the year! That bloody ash cloud has muddled my plans- I'm not going?" I say, feet astride and hands on hips.

"They said you had gone to Paris and now I know they were lying," the voice drifts and I turn around to see Nathan standing behind me.  His white shirt is effortlessly cool, matched with dark denim trousers. He looks me from head to toe, "Parisian chic, I do see though."

"How can I help you?" I say, I really am not in the mood.

"I just wanted to come in and order some special cupcakes for an event we're holding at the bar, for Jack's and I's company, it's for next week Saturday," Nathan says.

I look to Keira, "Please assist this gentleman, I'll be out back with the books."

"Hold on one minute," Nathan stops me mid-step, "We need around two hundred and fifty cupcakes... I brought some pictures we'd like to be showcased on them."

This is definitely not a job that Keira can take on, I usually need a couple of weeks notice to produce that large a batch. I will simply have to tell him no, but before I can, it gets even more exciting... Jack walks into the shop.

"Hi," he manages and I really do wish I were in Paris now.  This is awkward.

"I don't think I can manage to produce that large amount if they're for next week, I do need a couple weeks notice," I look from Jack to Nathan.

"I completely understand that and I apologise for the late request Fred, but we're desperate here.  Why can't you go with it?"

I know it's no excuse but I say, "Time and ingredients."

"Fine, if it's time... I'm sure Jack will help in any means possible now and if it's ingredients then we'll buy up the whole of the baking aisle in Sainsburys, please Fred... I wouldn't beg if I wasn't desperate, which I am. I was going to bargain on getting a discount but I won't even barter with you, please!" Nathan says and then goes down on his knees and begs.

"Get off the floor Nathan, stop embarrassing yourself," I say.

"I won't, not until you agree," he replies.

"Fine," I murmur.

"So, that's a yes?" Nathan confirms.

I nod.  He gets up and grabs me in a bear hug and kisses me square on the lips and can see Jack literally squirming- squirming, he looks indignant, appalled. 

"I gotta dash- have some bits to do for work but Jack will assist you with everything that needs doing," Nathan slams a folder pack on Jack and disappears through the front door.

It's awkward, I won't lie. I take Jack to the back where we sit at the table.  

"Would you like a cup of tea or something?" I ask.

"I'm fine, thanks," Jack says.

I take out a couple of photographs and glance at them, they're beautiful.  It's a set room, modestly done with their furniture.

"That's one of our well known pieces and our popular ones, we want to expand to the US and Asia hence the launch. We've got investors whose colleagues are coming on their behalf for this, so it's pretty important."
Jack says staring at the photographs with me.

"How much do they sell for?" I ask, because they are simply stunning.

"Why, you interested?" Jack asks.

"Maybe," I reply.

"This piece is pretty popular, retail price is £1050 because we find the best wood and fairtrade... and we're very environmentally friendly, every tree cut down another two are put up in it's place."

"Wow, and are these made by machine or..."

"By myself... you can imagine how extensive the waiting list is though," he says and my eyes immediately dart to his hands.

He looks down at his, "They've seen better days- I have lost count of how many splinters I have or had even."

"Don't you feel under pressure?"

"Pressure, no, not really... it's something that I love, carving, making, doing... I wouldn't change it for the world. If they want it as half as much as I think they do, they can wait... they know that it's one man and his wood..."

I laugh out loud, because he just said, one man and his wood - that's hilarious.

"Why are you laughing?" he doesn't get it.

"I'm sorry, but you said one man and his wood and I just thought about the naughty side of that...  best thing I've heard today!"

He grins, "So, getting back to the drawing board... how do we go about organising two hundred and fifty cakes?"

"The magic of technology is on our side, some will be printed on fondant to showcase your work... this is edible- it's food colouring for cake printing and I'll make some little shapes out of what you've given to me... it should be okay, I hope... I'll have to put in a lot of long hours but I'm used to that."

"Would you let me watch you work?"

"No, not unless you actually help and maybe I will... okay, let me have a look at these things and then I'll let you know,"

"You can reach me at the office, that's where I usually am... in and out of hours."

I smile.

"I better be off, have loads of shaping and engraving to do," Jack says, and I automatically feel deflated.

"I'll talk to you soon."

He smiles and leaves by the way he came. I look down at the brochures and get to work.

It's seven in the evening and at this time, I've drawn up samples to show Jack what could possibly be his cupcakes for the launch. I pick up the phone and dial the office, it's ringing and ringing on end and decide to hang up, he's probably gone home or something.  I rivert back to the cakes and the phone rings and it's Jack, he apologises for not hearing the phone until he stopped cutting.  I explain that I've done a sample batch for his viewing whenever he's ready to see them.  He says he'll be right there, give or take ten minutes.

He's there exactly in that time and knocks on the door, I usher him inside and bolt the door shut and lead him out back.  He's in overalls, sawdust on his shoes and I notice there is a cut on his forefinger where a large plaster has been intricately wrapped around it.  I unveil the cupcakes to him and there's silence and then he turns to me and nods his head gallantly.

"This is probably the best cupcakes I have seen in forever, thank you - we will definitely go with them, equal share of all please."

I smile and get to it.

"You're not seriously starting them now are you?"

"No, tomorrow... I'll be in a fresher state of mind then, I'm just seeing how much ingredients I have left before I need to order or get some."

"What are you doing after gauzing?" Jack asks.

"Probably veg out in front of the TV or go to sleep, dunno."

"Would you like to accompany me to dinner?" Jack asks.

I pause, "I would love that."

"I'll be back in twenty minutes, I just need to change and then I'll come back and pick you up... how are you about motorcycles?"

"Umm, not too sure, as I'm wearing a skirt today..."

"Sure, we'll do something local instead then," he smiles and turns to leave, "I'll see my way out, I'll be back shortly."

After he's left, I can't believe my luck... it's turned around - maybe not going to Paris was meant to be.

13 July 2011

Have You Ever


... wanted to take over the world?

I'm the worst in relationships- the worst, it's either me or the fact I seem to be attracted to the wrong blokes OR in fact, I attract the wrong ones.  I don't know, I'm just over it.  Do you think my luck will change if I go out with an ugly bloke with a nice personality- a role reversal of the sort? Nah, I'm not really feeling the idea.  I'm leafing through Hello magazine on a Saturday afternoon, the shop is actually quiet, so I'm out back and Keira my trusted assistant is in the front, ringing up the purchases for customers.  I haven't seen Jack since that night he dropped that weird conversation on me, nor have I seen his brother either. Good riddance. That was awkward, it wasn't as if we were an item. Maybe the dating game is even more confusing then when I was last in it. Anyway, the past is the past, no point in looking back and cringing.

Tomorrow, I'm flying off to Paris, yes Paris-Eiffel Tower-The Louvre-Paris.  I'm excited.  The last time I went there was last year, I needed some snazzy ideas for the deco for the shop and any such excuse to tuck into their macaroons and fine cuisine.  This time, it's business- I'm planning to expand the business abroad. I want to open my business in Paris- it's a big step but one I'm confident in taking.  If all is successful, I will entrust this flagship shop to Keira who will take care of this, whilst I plan the next step in my empire.  Paris, I cannot wait, it's all, I've been thinking about since I booked the tickets the other day. 

I cannot wait....