She knows what he’s asking; he’s asking if she’ll become Emma again. And it’s a good question but not one she can answer – not yet, anyway – so Abi lifts and drops her shoulders.
‘Lily and I were talking about moving to Brighton. I’m going to go and see a flat there tomorrow.’
‘Hmm,’ Diego says, lifting his hand to scrub his palm against the stubby bristle on his jaw. His eyes seem to journey elsewhere suddenly; she can’t tell what he’s thinking, whether he’s already scrolling through his internal Rolodex, trying to think of any contacts who might be able to replace Abi, or planning next week’s menu. It’s a surprise when, blinking, he returns and says, ‘A recruitment guy – someone who works in finding chefs, that sort of thing – contacted me a while back asking if I’d be interested in Sabor, that new place in Brighton.’
Abi nods, she knows it; the reviews weren’t ecstatic, but they were fine. The food is much less exciting than Diego’s, but she will need a job and likes where this thinking is leading.
‘I have his number somewhere; I could call and ask if they’re looking for someone?’
Abi doesn’t need to say yes, she just smiles at her friend and says for the second time that day, ‘You’re amazing.’
Diego nods, pushes out his bottom lip and looking sadly at Abi says, ‘I’m going to miss you here.’
And suddenly Abi feels herself crying again because this place, that for so long represented a new freedom for her, has become not a jail exactly, but a closed room, and she feels like she’s just found a way out.
‘Come here,’ she says to her old friend, their shared dream lying crumpled at their feet as they hug.
Lotte arrives soon after with a large bag.
‘Ooff,’ she says, pointing at the contents. ‘Candles.’
She stands, pressing her palms into the small of her back, and looks at Abi, a little sly, a little suspicious. Abi remembers Lotte giving her the same look during her interview months ago. Lotte had been worried about Abi’s lack of recent references on her CV, but she knew she was going to have to overlook the issue if they wanted Diego. Which they did. Badly.
Today Lotte squeezes Diego’s shoulder and turning to Abi asks, ‘You feeling better, Abs?’
All Abi has to do is smile and nod before Lotte, due diligence done, looks away from Abi and, pulling out her phone, addresses Diego as she says, ‘Oh, guys! I was interviewed this morning! By the Beeb! So exciting – my fifteen minutes …’ she adds, lifting her eyebrows like she actually believes she’s worth – no, owed – much, much more than just fifteen measly minutes.
She frowns at her phone as she searches for the link and, holding the phone away from herself and gesturing to Diego to lean in, she presses ‘play’.
Lotte is standing outside the school gates, her hair neatly arranged over her shoulders, her lips shellacked, her expression one of studied seriousness. Abi immediately recognizes the reporter standing next to Lotte: Sam Beresford, the guy she overheard outside the remains of Eva’s house earlier.
‘I’m standing outside Waverly Community Secondary School, joined by Lotte Browning, a parent whose son attends the school where Mr Kent is head teacher. Good morning, Lotte.’
Lotte looks briefly at Sam before, smiling, she turns back and says direct to camera, ‘It’s not, Sam – no, not a good morning. I’m afraid me and my family along with the rest of our community here in Waverly are still trying to comprehend what happened last night.’
Lotte, transfixed by herself on the screen, mouths along, repeating the words silently as Lotte in the video says them.
‘We’re all in shock and our hearts go out to Eva and her family.’
Sam moves the microphone back under his own chin as he says, ‘Does that include Sebastian Kent, Eva’s son?’
Lotte frowns, smiles and shakes her head gently at Sam. ‘Of course it does!’ Before she adds, ‘Listen, it’s important that everyone understands the community here doesn’t have a problem with Mr Kent as a person. We would never condone or want to incite violence against anyone.’
‘Yes, but last night …’
‘The terrible things that happened last night were the misjudged actions of … I don’t know, a few crazy people. But they do at least highlight the strength of feeling here. We’ve seen it happen in neighbouring towns and villages, the slow corruption of a once beloved place. We will protect our community. And part of that means ensuring the people who are at the forefront of our community – the leaders or elders, if you like – share our values. Which Mr Kent clearly does not. It’s as simple as that.’
‘And what about the woman who supposedly recently moved to Waverly – what would you say to her?’