Bye Bye Love. Patricia Burns

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СКАЧАТЬ see, Uncle Michel trained in Paris, at L’Ortolan d’Or. It’s really famous, one of the top places. And the head chef there, the one he worked under, came to eat at his restaurant last week and afterwards they got talking and Uncle Michel mentioned me and they have a place coming up in the autumn when someone leaves and…well…’

      ‘You want to go,’ Scarlett stated, her voice flat.

      All the animation had fled from her face. It was as if a light had gone out. Jonathan felt terrible.

      ‘It’s only for a trial period to start with, but it’s such an amazing opportunity.’ He struggled to explain. ‘A top Paris restaurant. Any French boy my age who wanted to be a chef would kill to get in there. I’d be the only English boy they’ve ever taken. I mean, I don’t know what Uncle Michel said to convince them. Perhaps he made them feel sorry for me, you know, marooned here amongst all our dire English food and that—’

      ‘Oh, yes, well that’s so dreadful, isn’t it?’ Scarlett flared. ‘Poor old you, having to eat English food! So you’re going to go to Paris and leave me here in your horrible pub with your horrible mother and father, are you? Well, thank you very much!’

      ‘It’s not horrible! How can you say that?’ Jonathan responded, automatically coming to the defence of his home and family.

      ‘It is, and they are. Your mother hates me, and I hate her, the evil old bag. She looks at me like I’m dirt under her shoe, and we have to live in those poky rooms and share that disgusting bathroom. It’s all right for you—you have your nice flat at the front. Round the back it’s damp and mouldy and dark and I’m not supposed to go anywhere except down to the kitchen and then Irma’s there breathing down my neck like I’m going to break something or steal her food—I hate it! It’s like I’ve got no right to be there.’

      Jonathan stared at her, appalled. He thought he knew her, but he’d had no idea she felt like this about the Trafalgar, or about his mother.

      ‘You’ve got no right to talk about my mother like that,’ he said stiffly, uneasily aware of how his mother talked about Scarlett.

      ‘I have,’ cause it’s true!’ Scarlett shouted back at him. ‘You’re getting away, aren’t you? You’re going to France, but I can’t. I’ve got to stay here, and without you it’s going to be unbearable! I hate you, Jonathan Blane! You’re so selfish! I thought you liked me, but you don’t, do you? All you care about is your beastly career, and being a chef. You don’t think about me at all!’

      ‘That’s not—’ he began, but Scarlett wasn’t listening. She turned and set off down the slope, twisting and dodging between the trees.

      ‘Scarlett!’ he called, running after her. ‘Scarlett, wait! Come back—it’s not like that!’

      But, if she heard him, she gave no sign. She reached the path, cut through the groups of people still making their way back from the carnival and plunged down the next bit of slope between thick bushes. Jonathan followed, but by the time he emerged from the bushes she had got to the esplanade pavement where the crowds were so thick that they swallowed her up. For a moment he paused on the grass, where the extra height gave him a chance to scan the milling throng of people. He caught sight of her glossy head by the side of two tall men in white shirts and raced down the last bit of the slope to force his way between the people.

      ‘I do care,’ he muttered, pushing and elbowing and getting cursed at. ‘I do care. I love you.’

      It was hopeless. Every other man seemed to be wearing a white shirt. The cheerful ambling crowd shifted and swirled like a kaleidoscope. He was never going to find her in this. It would be best to go back to the Trafalgar. She had to go back there sooner or later, since she was supposed to be washing up at seven o’clock.

      Irma was getting her washing in from the yard as he walked through.

      ‘Ooh, had a lovers’ tiff, have we?’ she mocked. ‘Madam’s just gone by with a face like thunder.’

      ‘Shut up,’ Jonathan growled, hiding the lift of relief.

      So Scarlett had come straight back. Now he knew where to find her. He raced upstairs and knocked on her door.

      ‘Scarlett? Scarlett, I’m sorry. Scarlett, are you all right?’

      ‘Go away,’ came a muffled voice from inside.

      He tried the handle, but the door was locked.

      ‘Scarlett, let me in.’

      ‘Go away! I don’t want to speak to you ever again!’

      Desperately, he shook the handle till it rattled.

      ‘Scarlett, you’ve got to let me talk to you.’

      The door to the neighbouring room opened and Scarlett’s father appeared.

      ‘Look…er…if she says she don’t want to talk to you, son, I think you’d better push off.’

      ‘Mr Smith, I—’ he began, when the next door along opened and Marlene put her head out. Her face was pale and her hair was a mess.

      ‘Will you lot stop making such a bloody row? Some of us ain’t feeling well.’

      It only needed Irma to come along and the whole story would be reported to his mother. He ignored the two grown-ups and put his head to Scarlett’s door, forcing his voice to be low and reasonable.

      ‘I’ll speak to you later, Scarlett. We’ll work something out.’

      There was no reply.

      He hung about in the staff kitchen until opening time to avoid seeing his parents, then spent a miserable hour in the flat, sitting at the window and staring out unseeing across the water. What was he going to do? The dilemma went round and round in his head. The last thing he wanted to do was to hurt Scarlett. The last thing he wanted to do was to leave her. But—but this opportunity was just too good to miss. If he turned it down, it would never come again. The day had started so well, too. They had been so happy, larking around on the beach and watching the carnival. And now this. Scarlett was locked in her room, probably crying, and he was here feeling like a complete monster, trying to find a way through.

      He held his head in his hands, digging his fingers into his scalp. This was all so confusing. He’d known roughly where his life was going and suddenly Scarlett had come along and everything had been turned upside down. If this was what they called love, then it wasn’t at all like all the songs and stuff. He still hadn’t worked it out when seven o’clock rolled round and he had to go downstairs.

      Both bars were heaving. Men were three deep trying to get served and every seat and practically all the standing room was taken. The air was already thick with cigarette smoke and the noise was tremendous.

      ‘There you are, son,’ his father boomed above the racket. ‘’Bout time too. Get your arse in gear and clear those tables.’

      ‘You said seven,’ Jonathan shouted back at him, and dived through the melée to grab the glasses from the nearest table.

      His hands full, he scurried along the dank passage leading to the toilets and into the small storeroom behind the bar area that had been fitted with a sink and draining СКАЧАТЬ