The Driver Read online

  “This was something we built as a family. Where has this come from? I don’t understand why you wouldn’t tell me when she first contacted you, rather than suddenly dropping this on me with no warning.”

  “I’m telling you now.” His voice was hard.

  I scowled at him. “When’s the meeting?”

  “She asked if we could meet with her, here, tomorrow.”

  He was pulling on his coat even as he said it, as though the question of whether I wanted to meet with her didn’t even matter. He had made his decision already and I felt the delicate world we had built over the last five years crumbling down around us.

  “Marv, you can’t be serious.”

  He shook his head irritably, as though my protestations were ridiculous.

  “This is a finite investment. This café, without the expansion, is a money pit. We would actually have a chance to really start a fresh with proper financial backing. I don’t want to do this, of course I don’t, but it also makes practical sense, Jon. We can’t go on as we are. You know that as well as I do. We have been running on a shoestring for months.”

  “We haven’t heard about the application yet, let’s just wait and see what the council comes back with. We answered all of their questions. We have a good business case. Let’s just see where it goes.”

  “That could take months. We don’t have a sustainable model for the next few weeks, not as we are. I want to meet with Thea to hear her thoughts on the place. It would be useful to understand what backing she could actually give us. I would like you to be with me when I do that.”

  I stared at him, feeling completely off-balance. Logically I knew he was right, I knew that the work I had been doing at the café had to be temporary, I knew that the rent was too high and we couldn’t pay for it for much longer, and he was seeing less and less of the girls because of the hours he had to keep.

  I knew all that, and yet, I suddenly felt fiercely, irrationally loyal to the place. As though someone, in a perverse way, had to represent Marie’s opinion in all of this.

  “And what if I can’t meet her at the drop of a hat tomorrow morning? Maybe with my full-time job, and the time and energy I sacrifice on a regular basis to support this place, I can’t have any time off for this impromptu meeting you decided to throw down like a gauntlet.”

  For a long moment the room was very quiet. He stared at me, his jaw set, an unhappy crease between his eyebrows. I was breathing heavily; waiting for what I knew was coming.

  “Then I’m meeting with her anyway.”

  I saw red and was about to explode when the door to the room opened and Molly’s little face popped round.

  “Daddy, we have to go to school.”

  Martin gave me a pleading expression which fell entirely dead at my feet. He was not using his kids against me on this one.

  “I can’t make it.”

  I saw his jaw tighten. “Fine. I’ll let you know what she says.”

  He opened the door wider and I saw there was a queue forming outside. I knew I had to get out there and put my pride to one side or we wouldn’t even have a business to negotiate over. Reviews were everything and sloppy slow service wasn’t something we could afford to have.

  I watched Martin’s retreating back as he left the shop with a slam of the door, the girls scurrying along in his wake, feeling as though my entire life had spun out of control in the space of half an hour.

  CHAPTER TEN

  I turned up to work the next day and I was actually nervous. Cal had texted me to pick him up at the mansion, the usual brisk tone in the message, because his father monitored his calls and texts. He took pride in telling me he had another phone that he used for hooking up. Needless to say, I didn’t have the number.

  I hadn’t heard from Martin. He also hadn’t told me when this meeting was to take place, so although it was ten am I didn’t know if it was happening later, or if it was already finished. I still felt a throb of rage at the thought of him arranging it all behind my back, but having slept on it I could see his reasoning.

  In a very begrudging way I could see that he was right. Without the loan we’d applied for, and if we didn’t get the permission to expand from the council, we wouldn’t be able to keep the café anyway.

  Maybe this was a logical step and a good opportunity, but God it hurt to think of giving the place up. I couldn’t understand where Martin’s new attitude had come from. If I had had the gall to suggest we did this a year ago he might actually have punched me.

  I left the Rolls idling just ahead of the main door, aware that I was gripping the wheel too tightly and I needed to calm down before I started driving. I took some long deep breaths and felt my heartrate ease slightly.

  Thankfully, he left me waiting for a good thirty minutes and I was able to kill the engine and properly relax before the front door opened revealing Cal on the other side of it, accompanied by his father.

  I swore under my breath. I had only had to drive his Dad once before and the man was the worst backseat driver I had ever met. He would always know the best route through London traffic, despite the fact that the satnav satellites could actually see the traffic. He was the sort of man who could never be wrong. Even if the truth was in front of him he’d deny it until everyone else agreed with him. It was why he was a successful businessman and a total pain in the arse.

  They got in. I knew his father would want to feel as though the minions weren’t listening so the screen was opaque and I couldn’t see Cal’s expression.

  “We need to get to the Lanesborough Hotel. We only have forty minutes because someone couldn’t get ready in time. What takes a boy so long to dress astounds me.” I rolled my eyes because I couldn’t be seen and punched in the address.

  The ride was awkward from the other side of the screen. I couldn’t hear what they were discussing, which meant that I didn’t get continuous comments on my driving, but I also couldn’t see or hear Cal and it was starting to make my palms itch.

  How had he got under my skin so fast in a matter of months? I had had plenty of people I was interested in before and I had never had a problem walking away. Why, after all the years I had spent driving beautiful people around in my car, did I have to fall for the biggest womaniser and playboy in London? I grunted in irritation and the intercom clicked on.

  “We only have fifteen minutes and you’re in the wrong lane.”

  Last time his Dad had been in the car I had been a private mess, trying to agree with everything he said, expecting to be fired at every, literal, wrong turn, but somehow the heightened state of my nerves meant I felt entirely calm. Who was this dickhead, anyway? If he wanted to fire me for being better at following a satnav than he was, then he was welcome to.

  “I know what time we need to be there, Mr Emerson, we’re not going to be late.”

  “This route will take longer.”

  “No it won’t, Mr Emerson. Trust me to get you there on time. Callum isn’t late for meetings, and neither will you be. I can guarantee it, sir.”

  There was a pregnant pause after that, and I just knew he was asking his son what the hell my problem was, but he had hired me, so my problem was his problem. I smiled.

  “If we’re late you’re fired.” I opened the intercom and laughed at him. I actually laughed at him.

  “Right you are.” Then I disconnected and carried on to the hotel. We were five minutes early, and the bastard didn’t say a word. I hadn’t expected him to, but I found it amusing to get the better of him. It also, for a brief moment, helped me to feel in control, which was becoming a rare occurrence these days.

  Then I remembered who else had been in the car and my heart sank. That little display probably made Cal think I wanted to be fired. No one spoke to his father like that without wanting a showdown. I groaned and rested my head on the steering wheel.

  There was a sharp rap on the window and the doorman of the hotel indicated that I was blocking the driveway. I drove around to the hotel car park and
waited, cursing the day I’d ever taken the job.

  ~

  The session was a long one, and I wondered whether they were meeting with a lawyer. Cal’s father loved showy hotels, and making everyone around him feel small. If they were reading the Will and Testament of Deidre this would be the kind of place they would do it. Somewhere they could be seen, where he could flex his muscles.

  My phone beeped with a text and I glanced down. It was from Cal. It just said We’re finished

  I frowned at the screen for several seconds, my stomach filling with nerves at the double meaning in those two words and then grunted in irritation before setting off. When I got to the front of the hotel it was just Cal, his father was nowhere to be seen. He got in, said nothing for several seconds and then finally.

  “I want to go to Mason’s.”

  I went into autopilot and just drove. We didn’t exchange a single word the whole trip. He went into the restaurant and didn’t give his usual indication of how long he would be. I would just have to wait it out. I was miserable, I realised with a pang of irritation, and I was pissed off that I would allow myself to feel it. But I did. I just felt like shit.

  It wasn’t until after seven in the evening before Cal emerged. He wasn’t drunk from the way he walked down the stairs but knowing the week he’d had and the oh-so pleasant evening he’d spent in my company, he was bound to have been drinking something.

  He got in the car and I waited. There was only silence from the back. I watched the traffic pass by in the soft rain that had started falling.

  “Blakeman’s.”

  I jumped a little at the anger in his voice, but I didn’t respond before driving away. The ride was short and unpleasant and by the time we’d reached the venue I wanted to quit. One day in his company with him hating me and I felt totally off balance. I watched him wonder up the stairs, chatting to the bouncers as usual and I went and parked in the familiar well-lit street just up from the cafe. Suddenly the idea of losing Mama’s Hut and the huge expense of keeping it running, which necessitated me keeping this job, didn’t seem so bad after all.

  I sat stubbornly in the parking space for twenty minutes before I relented and realised I was being a spoiled baby. I got out of the car and walked slowly up to the door of the café. Martin had obviously seen us pull up because he was watching the door. As I became visible he quickly looked down and started wiping the bar feverishly. I almost smiled and went in.

  Martin had a coffee on the bar before I even sat down. I stared at him and he stared back and then I decided it would be better if I made the first move.

  “How did the meeting go?”

  He let out a breath and leaned back against the counter, glancing at the door, but there were heavy sheets of rain falling outside now and the streets were quiet.

  Before he could say anything I sighed and rubbed a hand over the back of my neck.

  “Look, before we get into this, I thought it over and I understand why you wanted to speak with her. I know we need other options if we have to give up this place, but last time I checked we were partners and we make decisions together. Plus, you never, ever considered this possibility when we were really in the shit and I suggested it about three years ago, so this feels a little out of the blue.” I pushed my coffee cup round in a circle, watching the little ring of brown water clinging to the bottom of it. “I don’t like having things sprung on me at the last minute and certainly not when you suggest them as though I should already be on board and imply that the fact that I have some remaining loyalty to a business we all built together is unreasonable.”

  As I spoke the solitary customer who had been sitting behind me was making her way out the door and so we were blissfully alone for a few minutes.

  “I knew you wouldn’t like it.” He came closer to me and leaned against the counter. “I had put off telling you for weeks.” He stopped. Martin was always measured in the things he said, very rarely blurting anything out without a bit of thought first. It was one of the things I admired about him, which was why yesterday’s unplanned outburst had affected me so much.

  “The truth is I love this place.” He continued. “You know I love it. Marie loved it, and we had a dream to make it something new, something better and unique.” He sighed, looking around and above him as though looking for an answer in our surroundings. “But the past few months, since things have become a bit more settled, I’ve found myself having days here where I hate it.”

  I looked up at him then, and saw the guilt in his eyes.

  “It feels like this is the past. Like we’re clinging onto a life she isn’t living any more. As though we are both trying to keep her alive with the memory of what this place was meant to become. Sometimes I look at a table leg, or one of the cups she picked out and I feel happy, because I remember her. But most of the time I just feel sad. It’s almost as though Mama’s Hut isn’t letting me move on with my life.” He was running a tea towel through his fingers nervously.

  “If I’m honest,” he looked up at me, “when I got Thea’s email I felt this wave of relief. A sense that this was a way out. It would mean we don’t have to keep plugging away at the council for a planning application. With the current revisions on it, it might mean we can’t do what we want with the place, anyway. We won’t have to keep the rent payments up; you won’t need to work here, anymore. I can focus on the restaurant side of things, I’ll have an upfront fee to get it started, we’ll have a cheaper, bigger, properly built venue with an industrial kitchen at the back.”

  He scratched his beard and rubbed his eyes. Now I looked at him, his eyes looked raw and puffy from a night with little sleep.

  “There are down sides. Definite down sides. Today she was talking about her franchise.” He made a face, as did I. “The whole idea of Mama’s Hut, or anything I own, being made into a chain, makes me feel nauseous. But if it’s a first step to get us running a restaurant of our own, I would do it; only if you wanted to as well. Thea and I spoke this morning. It wasn’t the longest meeting in the world, but she ran through her plans for the place and she’s a nice woman. She seemed to really empathise with me and my situation with the girls and how I want to run it and the vision you and I have built.” He shrugged. “I haven’t decided. I would never decide without you. But when you tot up the number of things we’re breaking our backs to keep going, with the amount we wouldn’t need to worry about with this investment, it starts to make a lot of sense.”

  He looked at me and seemed so worried that I couldn’t help but smile ruefully.

  “You should have told me on day one.”

  “I know.”

  “Where did she even hear about us?”

  He frowned. “I’m not sure. She was cagey on the origins of how she became interested. I’ve looked her up, she’s been in the game for a while and she’s had some real successes. She’s the former owner of Keelen’s. You know the fish and chip chain?”

  I nodded. I’d bought fish and chips from them on several occasions. There were about four of them in south London and they had an excellent reputation.

  “I have a lot of information from her now, so we can sit down together and go through it all. We don’t do anything unless we agree.”

  I sighed and drank my coffee. I looked around me at this little slice of home that I’d grown so used to and really took it in for the first time in a long while.

  I realised I had absorbed Martin’s loyalty to it, and the shock of finding out he didn’t have that any more had startled me. Now that I really focused on my surroundings I realised that the whole place reminded me of Marie. Her taste, her style, her female intuition in terms of the design, was everywhere, and I suddenly saw it through Martin’s eyes as a graveyard representing everything he had lost. I suddenly felt guilty that I had never seen it in that way before.

  “I never told you how I felt.” He said behind me, clearly reading my expression with his usual acuteness. “I should have told you, but it’s taken me a long
time to stop feeling guilty about needing to let it go.”

  I turned back to him and put a hand on his arm. As I did it I saw the emotion overwhelm him and his eyes filled with tears. I kept my arm on his for a long while as he got himself back under control. We waited together for the wave of familiar grief to pass and somehow it felt as though in that moment, we had also released something else. A long unspoken sentence that never needed to be said aloud.

  It was time to move on.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  After a minute or so Martin wiped his eyes and squeezed my hand. I smiled at him and nodded. That would do for now. We had a silent truce and we would discuss it further when everything wasn’t so raw.

  I was so lucky to have him. I felt that with intense clarity at that moment. A few customers filtered in from the wet weather outside and it was a welcome break from our conversation.

  As he walked over to serve them I felt the sadness of losing Mama’s Hut lessen slightly and then morph into a new, dreadful realisation that I would be free to find a new job. I should have felt the same relief that Martin had just described, given how things were with Cal, but instead it made all the unhappiness descend like a grey curtain and I cursed inwardly at having allowed myself get so deep.

  As Martin bustled around the café, I got out my phone and emailed a few of my contacts who could usually get me some cushy jobs with the more high-end clients. Before I’d even got the bottom of my espresso one had messaged me back with an excited emoji and asked when we could meet. I pocketed my phone glumly and watched as Martin placed a green drink in front of me.

  Recognising it as the peace offering it was I said nothing and took an immediate sip.

  I had always liked lattes and this was no exception. It wasn’t as sweet as a chai and he hadn’t added any sugar, so it had a nice bitter tang to it. I was surprised to find I really liked it.