up to Olly, tell him I had low blood sugar and went mental or something. He’ll forgive me for being so unnecessarily mean and everything will be normal again. We’ll get married and live happily ever after forever and ever, Amen. And until then, I just have to avoid talking to anyone. How hard can it be?
CHAPTER SEVEN
“ Why are you so late? Do you value your job at all? And what the bloody hell are you wearing? ”
Marie is in a bad mood. I can tell because the frown line in the middle of her forehead is cavernous. She looks like a Sharpai dog, or Gordon Ramsay. As I make my way behind the Cheeses of the World counter and put on my apron, Marie’s questions cause the overwhelming feeling of needing to speak to fizz through my body. It feels kind of like when you get the urge to laugh, and you know you mustn’t. Like when a person trips in the street, or someone is mad at you. You know that laughing would be wildly inappropriate but you can do nothing to control those errant chuckles.
I try once more to send my brain a message.
Say nothing, Natalie. Just keep your head down, get to work and wait for Meg.
Of course, it doesn’t work. Out it comes.
“ I’m late, Marie, because I was hypnotised last night, I told my fiancé that I wished he was better in bed, I was still drunk this morning, though I don’t think I am now. I do value my job. I’m skint, and I need the money. Sometimes I wish you wouldn’t be such a bitch to me, and sometimes I wish I was still at chef school instead of here. My outfit is some saggy arsed jogging pants and a Goonies t-shirt, through which I’m pretty sure you can see my nipples, ” and then my voice goes all loud. “ So why don’t you be quiet and give me a sodding break? ”
I take a breath. A strange mixture of relief at having answered, surprise at what I’ve said and utter embarrassment overcomes me.
The small queue of customers stare at me in shock before looking down towards my breasts, which, thank the Lord are now covered by my apron.
Oh God.
Marie marches over to me, eyes blazing. Her fists are clenched. This is it. She’s going to beat me up. I always knew she would beat someone up. I just never imagined it would be me. I’m the nice girl. The nice, polite girl who shuts up and gets on with it. I close my eyes and wait for the impact of fist in head.
“ Ahem. ” I open my eyes to see Stone looming large in front of Marie, essentially blocking her path towards me. Where did he come from? Behind him Marie is shaking a fist at me. Surely only people in black and white films shake fists at each other. Now is so not the time to giggle. What is wrong with me?
My face flushes red.
“ I’m so sorry, ” I bleat. “ I didn’t mean to say that, something has happened to me. I have no control over my brain, I - ”
Stone puts a hand up to stop me from talking, and points Marie in the direction of the bemused, waiting customers. She bares her teeth at me briefly before following his instructions. God. That was close.
Stone ushers me into the storeroom, runs a hand through his dark, Liam Gallagher style hair and raises his monobrow in concern.
“ What have you been taking, love. Is it shrooms? Blow? Cat’s Pee? ”
In all the time I have worked here this is the first time I’ve heard Stone speak. His voice is scratchy and actually rather high pitched. My shock doesn’t get a look in as I feel the urge to answer him at once.
“ I’m not on drugs. Of course I’m not. Cat Pee? That’s horrible. Do people actually do that? Ugh! ”
Stone frowns and mutters “ Denial ain’t just a river in Egypt ” to himself.
“ Really. I’m not on drugs, ” I try.
“ Love, I have been around a lot of drugs, and that little speech you just made in there was not you. Now, will you be honest with me? ”
It’s so weird that he’s actually talking. Like a normal, actual person, rather than the silent, shady figure that sits in the corner all day.
“ That’s
CHAPTER SEVEN
“ Why are you so late? Do you value your job at all? And what the bloody hell are you wearing? ”
Marie is in a bad mood. I can tell because the frown line in the middle of her forehead is cavernous. She looks like a Sharpai dog, or Gordon Ramsay. As I make my way behind the Cheeses of the World counter and put on my apron, Marie’s questions cause the overwhelming feeling of needing to speak to fizz through my body. It feels kind of like when you get the urge to laugh, and you know you mustn’t. Like when a person trips in the street, or someone is mad at you. You know that laughing would be wildly inappropriate but you can do nothing to control those errant chuckles.
I try once more to send my brain a message.
Say nothing, Natalie. Just keep your head down, get to work and wait for Meg.
Of course, it doesn’t work. Out it comes.
“ I’m late, Marie, because I was hypnotised last night, I told my fiancé that I wished he was better in bed, I was still drunk this morning, though I don’t think I am now. I do value my job. I’m skint, and I need the money. Sometimes I wish you wouldn’t be such a bitch to me, and sometimes I wish I was still at chef school instead of here. My outfit is some saggy arsed jogging pants and a Goonies t-shirt, through which I’m pretty sure you can see my nipples, ” and then my voice goes all loud. “ So why don’t you be quiet and give me a sodding break? ”
I take a breath. A strange mixture of relief at having answered, surprise at what I’ve said and utter embarrassment overcomes me.
The small queue of customers stare at me in shock before looking down towards my breasts, which, thank the Lord are now covered by my apron.
Oh God.
Marie marches over to me, eyes blazing. Her fists are clenched. This is it. She’s going to beat me up. I always knew she would beat someone up. I just never imagined it would be me. I’m the nice girl. The nice, polite girl who shuts up and gets on with it. I close my eyes and wait for the impact of fist in head.
“ Ahem. ” I open my eyes to see Stone looming large in front of Marie, essentially blocking her path towards me. Where did he come from? Behind him Marie is shaking a fist at me. Surely only people in black and white films shake fists at each other. Now is so not the time to giggle. What is wrong with me?
My face flushes red.
“ I’m so sorry, ” I bleat. “ I didn’t mean to say that, something has happened to me. I have no control over my brain, I - ”
Stone puts a hand up to stop me from talking, and points Marie in the direction of the bemused, waiting customers. She bares her teeth at me briefly before following his instructions. God. That was close.
Stone ushers me into the storeroom, runs a hand through his dark, Liam Gallagher style hair and raises his monobrow in concern.
“ What have you been taking, love. Is it shrooms? Blow? Cat’s Pee? ”
In all the time I have worked here this is the first time I’ve heard Stone speak. His voice is scratchy and actually rather high pitched. My shock doesn’t get a look in as I feel the urge to answer him at once.
“ I’m not on drugs. Of course I’m not. Cat Pee? That’s horrible. Do people actually do that? Ugh! ”
Stone frowns and mutters “ Denial ain’t just a river in Egypt ” to himself.
“ Really. I’m not on drugs, ” I try.
“ Love, I have been around a lot of drugs, and that little speech you just made in there was not you. Now, will you be honest with me? ”
It’s so weird that he’s actually talking. Like a normal, actual person, rather than the silent, shady figure that sits in the corner all day.
“ That’s
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