Читать книгу A Season of Hopes and Dreams - Lynsey James - Страница 16

Chapter Eight

One of the biggest challenges I’ve faced since joining Carb Counters is learning how to eat healthily. I don’t think there’s anyone out there who’ll disagree with me when I say it’s much easier to stick a pizza in the oven than make one from a tube of passata and a tortilla wrap.

However, I’ve come to find I actually enjoy cooking. I’m even quite good at it, although I’m much better at baking. On tonight’s menu is homemade chicken and peanut butter curry, followed by some healthy brownie bites for pudding. As I stir the chicken coated in the curry sauce, I feel the aromas ensnare my senses. My mouth begins to water and my heart does a happy little dance in anticipation. I chuckle as I remember the time Marjorie tried to make ‘healthy’ sauce substitutes and sell them at meetings.

‘These are delicious alternatives to all those calorie-laden ones you get in the shops,’ she’d claimed. ‘Now you can enjoy all your favourite meals guilt-free. How fabulous is that?!’

Not really, as it had turned out. For all of Marjorie’s wild claims, she’s actually a terrible cook and the sauces were rancid. Not least because she’d added way too much vinegar to the sweet and sour sauce, and overloaded the curry sauce with chilli powder.

It’s time to taste my own creation. Carefully, I dip my finger into the sauce and put it to my lips. Just right, I think. It’s rich and creamy but with a little kick of chilli to stop it being bland. After a quick check to see the rice is properly cooked, I tip some of it onto a plate and take it through to the living room with me. My stomach grumbles impatiently as I sit down at my computer desk to tuck into it. Before I have a mouthful, I shake the mouse to bring up the screen I’d been looking at. I’m logged into Facebook and have Adam Hartwell’s name typed into the search bar. Before I’d gone to make my tea, I’d been about to look him up for the first time in ten years. Apprehension – plus my growling stomach – stopped me, but now I’m determined. There’s nothing a good chicken curry can’t help you accomplish, after all.

My finger hovers over the Enter key and I’m just inches away from pressing it when the doorbell rings. I give a grunt of frustration as I haul myself up from my ridiculously uncomfortable computer chair; why do people always call round at the important moments? I throw open the door and find Emma standing outside, holding a huge bottle of wine and two glasses in her hands.

‘Hey!’ I try not to make my surprise too obvious, in case I’ve invited her round and forgotten. ‘You look… erm… happy!’

Emma chuckles as she makes her way inside. ‘Don’t worry, you haven’t done that thing where you tell me to come round then forget again! I just thought I’d pop round with a bottle of wine to celebrate you agreeing to come to the speed-dating thing with me next week. It’s not every day I get you to try something new, so we should make the most of it! Ooh, is that your peanut butter curry I can smell?’

‘Yup, there’s still some in the pan if you fancy it? I was going to freeze it for later in the week, but you can have it.’

Emma dashes through to the kitchen to claim her plate of food, while I follow to pour the wine. She’s like a kid at Christmas as she pours the rice and curry mixture onto a plate, and I can’t help but smile.

‘How are you feeling about the speed-dating event anyway?’ she asks as we make our way through to the living room. ‘It should be fun, I reckon. What do you think?’

I recognise the tone of her voice; she’s trying to make sure I won’t back out and leave her to go on her own. It’s a tone I’ve heard many times before when we’ve had something planned.

‘If you want me to be honest, I’m petrified,’ I reply, ‘but I’m actually kind of looking forward to going as well. Like you said, it’ll get me out of my comfort zone for a bit, and it’s stopping me from worrying so much about the reunion.’

Emma smiles, but it’s an uncertain one. ‘You’ve got nothing to be terrified about, Cleo. You’ll have a great time. I bet you end up meeting someone really nice, then you can take him to the reunion and rub it in Adam’s face.’

Although I don’t want to admit it, the thought of getting Adam back for humiliating me at the Leavers’ Dance is a tempting one. The feeling of cold punch being poured over me by the lovely Amanda while Adam looked on in hysterics still makes my blood boil.

Her eyes fall on my computer and she moves closer to get a better look at the screen. She turns to face me with a smile playing on her lips.

‘Ah, so you were about to look him up, were you?’ She gives a little chuckle and leans against the desk as she tucks into her curry. ‘What stopped you?’

‘Well, I was starving so I decided to make my curry. Oh, and I’m also a massive wuss. Close it down – we can see if there’s anything good on TV.’

From the look on Emma’s face, I know a quiet night in front of the TV isn’t what she has in mind. Judging by that mischievous smile, putting our feet up is the last thing we’ll be doing.

‘I don’t think so, missy,’ she says with a grin. ‘Why don’t we see what Mr Hartwell’s been up to for the last ten years? Couldn’t hurt, seeing as the reunion’s coming up, right?’

I open my mouth to disagree, but Emma’s already pressed the Enter button and is making herself comfortable. I run over to the computer as fast as my legs will carry me, careful not to drop any of my delicious curry.

‘Here he is!’ Emma’s face lights up as she clicks on the top profile. ‘What do you think?’

She wiggles the screen round so I can get a proper look at him. As soon as I see his picture, my breath catches in my throat. Although he looks older now, some things about him haven’t changed at all. He still has the same licorice-black hair, huge puppy-dog eyes and that mischievous grin that used to make my insides do backflips. As much as I hate to admit it, I feel those same butterflies looking at him now.

‘Wow…’ The rest of my words dry up in my mouth before I can say them. ‘He’s… the same as always. Good to know.’

Emma turns to look at me, arms folded and face set into a stern expression. ‘Don’t tell me you’re still attracted to him. He humiliated you in front of everyone at school, in case you’ve forgotten.’

I shake my head and make some spluttering noises. ‘Of course I’m not! I stopped liking that loser years ago; I was just looking him up so I could see if his hairline had started to recede, that’s all.’

My best friend narrows her eyes in that special I’m-on-to-you way that suggests she doesn’t believe me. Can’t say I blame her; even I know I’m lying this time.

‘Mmm-hmm. This just goes to show that the speed-dating event’s come along at the perfect time. You’ll get back in the dating game again and shake off that crush on Adam Hartwell for good. Or if all else fails, you could ask that gorgeous guy you were talking to in the pub the other night. What was his name, Scott?’

My cheeks start to burn as soon as his name’s mentioned. ‘I can’t ask him to the reunion; he’s just a bloke who works at the gym I hardly go to! I’ve only spoken to him a few times, so I can’t see him jumping at the chance to go to the reunion with me. I’ll give the speed-dating a try, but I’m not promising anything, OK?’ I retreat back to the safety of the couch, hoping to entice Emma over for a night of trashy reality TV. ‘Oh, and I do not have a crush on Adam Hartwell any more.’

At least I don’t THINK I do…

Emma puts down her curry and, right away, I know she means business. She wouldn’t abandon her favourite meal for nothing.

‘I actually came round for another reason,’ she says. ‘I’ve been thinking about your bucket list and I want to help you do as much of it as I can. So I decided to come round for a brainstorming session to see how we can make some of them happen. What do you think?’

My heart swells with joy and I even feel a lump form in my throat. Emma’s always been my biggest supporter, telling me I can do anything I put my mind to. I always went along with her daft schemes when we were kids, so it’s quite fitting she’s returning the favour now.

When I don’t immediately answer, she continues, ‘We could get quite a few done before the reunion too! That’ll show Amanda, even though you obviously didn’t make the bucket list to impress her. You’re doing it for yourself and I think it’s bloody awesome. Hopefully you’ll see you’re capable of doing extraordinary things instead of selling yourself short. What do you say? Will you let me help you?’

The memory of Mum telling me I’m only capable of doing small things crosses my mind. The stab of pain in my heart makes my answer laughably simple.

‘Go on then.’ My voice trembles slightly, but my resolve doesn’t waver. ‘You’re on.’