The Little Christmas Kitchen. Jenny Oliver

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СКАЧАТЬ Ella said, feeling suddenly sweaty and awkward in her now crumpled shirt and pencil skirt that she’d been wearing at the office. Her feet pinched in her Louboutins, the polished leather dirty with dust. ‘I just arrived.’

      ‘No kidding.’ Maddy raised a brow. ‘Does Mum know you’re coming?’

      Ella felt instantly defensive. ‘No. I wanted it to be a surprise.’

      Maddy gave her a look that Ella interpreted as both mocking and bemused. ‘She’ll be surprised all right. Isn’t it your anniversary? Is Max here?’

      Ella shook her head. ‘Yes, but we went out last night because he had a big deal come up at work,’ she lied, the rehearsed words rushing out too quickly. She paused, took a breath to calm herself down. ‘He’s flying out later,’ she added and instinctively her hand wrapped around her phone and she looked down to check it again. No messages. In fact barely any signal at all. She could feel Maddy watching her, looking her up and down. She wished that she’d changed into something more casual before getting on the plane. She felt foolish in her work clothes and it was making her defensive. ‘Can you take me to her?’

      Maddy scoffed. ‘I’m not your servant. You know where she lives.’

      Ella couldn’t at that moment admit that no, she actually didn’t know where she lived. She had never walked from here to the taverna, was unfamiliar with the network of back streets. When they came to stay they stayed at the five star hotel at the next beach where bougainvillea pouring like cherryade over the balconies, the waiters knew their names and there were aperitifs in the bar at six. Max always hired a boat and they would zoom up to the jetty, an arcing wake behind them, and she would step out wearing a sparkly maxi dress and a big sunhat and Max would tip one of the little kids on the jetty to tie up the boat and make sure it was secure because, while he liked to mess around, showing off in his speedboat, he wasn’t the best sailor and had no idea how to moor or when to drop anchor.

      No she’d never arrived in the town via the backstreets.

      Well, not in the last ten years anyway.

       CHAPTER 6

      MADDY

      Maddy could tell something was up. Ella never went anywhere without Max. Ever since they’d got together she clung to him like a limpet. As if, if she let go he might disappear into a puff of smoke and she’d be left sitting on a pumpkin with lots of mice running around her.

      She looked immaculate as always. Her clothes worth more than Maddy earned in a year. Her expression was disparaging, haughty. Like there was no way she would trudge through the streets on her own to get to their mum’s.

      Maddy swallowed.

      Dimitri once said, ‘Why do you let her get to you?’

      And Maddy had shrugged, looked away and said, ‘I don’t know.’ But she did know. Because on the one hand Ella terrified her and on the other hand Maddy so desperately wanted to be her, or at the very least be liked by her again.

      ‘Come on, I’ll take you.’ Maddy said in the end, conscious of her dust coated hair and make-up free face.

      Ella took a couple of steps forward, tottering awkwardly over the pot holes in her killer heels. ‘What is wrong with the bloody roads?’ she huffed.

      ‘The road is paved up here, it’s not usually like this,’ Maddy said, defensive of her island. ‘It happened in the storm.’

      Ella made a face as if it’d happened just to spite her.

      ‘People lost their houses.’ Maddy narrowed her eyes.

      Ella looked away.

      They trudged on another couple of steps, Ella taking tiny steps in her leather boots and dragging a Louis Vuitton case behind her.

      ‘Do you want me to take that?’ Maddy said as they got to the top of the sloping cobbled path that led down to the beach, the jetty and the taverna.

      ‘No I can manage.’ Ella said, the sharpness of her tone making Maddy flinch.

       CHAPTER 7

      ELLA

      There is no way I’m letting her make everyone think I can’t even carry my own bag.

      Ella bit the inside of her cheek. Her shoes were rubbing, her shirt was sticking to her back, her bag was getting increasingly heavy as she tried to stop it running away with itself on the sloping road.

      Maddy loped ahead of her, all sun-kissed beach-babe, scuffing her trainers on the cobbles almost trying to show Ella how casual and laidback her life was.

      I gave all this up because of you. The thought popped into her head as suddenly as the view of the taverna appeared before her, and, as she pushed it away, she found herself caught. Staring, involuntarily, at the sprawling building. She hadn’t looked at it in years. Really taken it in. Seen the terrace that led out into the sea like it was floating on the water and the lattice of vines that stretched up along one wall and over the roof. Gone were the rattan mats that had been nailed onto the awning as a makeshift defence against the rain and used to bash and shake in the wind, terrifying them in their beds at night. In their place was a sparkling new roof, beautiful terracotta tiles that curved like waves and thick new wooden beams that her mum had strung with coloured lights that swayed gently in the breeze. The stone walls had been whitewashed since she’d last been there and The Little Greek Kitchen had been slapped on the side in yellow paint.

      Maddy had come up with the name and Ella remembered being so jealous. Her suggestions had seemed so lame in comparison.

      ‘Are you coming?’ Maddy had paused ahead of her to look back.

      ‘Yes, I was just readjusting my bag.’ Ella said, making sure she hadn’t seen her gawping at the view and focused on hauling her case down the set of steep steps that joined them to the road leading to the taverna.

      It was the smell that knocked Ella for six. Warm pastry cracking and bursting in the oven and cheese melting into a soft, spongy goo. Summers spent sitting on the veranda of a villa they rented stuffing little filo pies into her mouth and jumping into the pool while her dad barbecued and her mum sat in the shade rubbing sun cream into Maddy’s tiny arms, wearing an old white linen shirt and no make-up, and looking stunning. It was on this island that Ella had dipped Maddy’s toes into the sea when she was a baby, it was where she’d reluctantly agreed to go on the donut rides that she hated so that Maddy would have someone with her, where she’d taught Maddy to play the card game Slam! and let her beat her just to be nice, and where, on the plane on the way home, she had held Maddy’s hand and listed all the good things they were going home to when she cried about the holiday being over.

      As Maddy and her mum stood side by side now, Maddy having gone over and tapped Sophie on the shoulder, Ella could see that their likeness had only got stronger as they got older. That even in looks now, she was the odd one out.

      ‘What is it?’ Sophie frowned, rubbing her hands clean on a tea-towel. ‘Why aren’t you at work?’

      Maddy nodded towards the doorway.

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