Page 33 of The Lies
We end up sending Mum to bed not long after we’ve eaten, leaving Aunt Addy and I to sleep on the sofa bed. It’s probably the best outcome for us but I can’t help thinking that I need to get over to the flat above the bakery and get it fit to be lived in as soon as possible if Mum is planning on staying. I’ve got furniture arriving in a few days, so I potentially could move in pretty soon if I get my arse in gear.
* * *
The week goes by in a blur of cake making, cleaning, dealing with drunk mothers, and very little Blake. We’d arranged to go out on Tuesday but when the time came he had to cancel because of work. It was just one of those things but I was seriously disappointed. I was equally as pissed off on Thursday when he text out of the blue, asking if I was home alone. Unfortunately, I wasn’t. Mum was sat at the dining table, talking to me about her time swanning around America. He came around anyway and had coffee with Mum and me. I’d warned her to be on her best behaviour and, to be fair, she was; that day was also the most sober I’d seen her since her arrival.
* * *
Blake and I plan to go out Friday instead. I spend the morning icing, then, once Mum disappears just after lunch, I decide to head over to my flat to do the last bits of cleaning ready for my furniture to arrive. Blake, Sinead and I are planning to spend the weekend painting it; Sinead has all the colours picked out ready. She asked me if I wanted to see them but I told her I’d rather she surprised me. I’m looking forward to seeing what she’s chosen.
Before heading up to the flat, I poke my head into the bakery. It’s almost done; I’m just waiting on the delivery of my kitchen equipment and I’ll be all set. Cara has sent my Opening Soon fliers ready for the end of the month to the printers making me commit to an opening date. It’s such a big and scary step that I do admit I was putting off making the decision about when I would open the doors. But now the decision is made, I do feel better. I’m spending nearly every waking hour thinking about and testing different recipes that I want to sell, along with finding suppliers for some of the items I don’t plan on baking myself. As much as I’d love to do it all one-handed, I know that’s a pipe dream, because there aren’t enough hours in the day.
By the time I’ve finished in the flat, the skin on my hands is wrinkly and my nails are wrecked, but both the kitchen and bathroom have been bleached and scrubbed within an inch of their lives. Blake tried to convince me to let him replace the old kitchen and bathroom but I was adamant he’d already spent enough money on me, so we compromised with new cupboard doors that should also be arriving next week.
I stop in at the salon a few doors down once I’ve finished, hoping they may be able to squeeze me in. It’s obvious from the moment I push the door open that they should have time; there’s no one to be seen, so not only do I get my nails done, I also allow their trainee hair dresser to wash, blow-dry and curl my hair. When I walk out, I may still smell faintly of bleach, but I feel a hell of a lot better. My final stop is the pharmacy before heading back to Aunt Addy’s to get dressed for tonight. I have no idea where Blake’s taking me. He said it was a surprise, but I was told to dress to impress. It’s a shame my clothes haven’t arrived from London yet because I know there are a few dresses in those boxes that are sure to knock Blake’s socks off, but my only choice is the trusty little black dress I wore when we went out for my birthday.
I’m almost ready when my phone rings. Excitement buzzes through me when I see Blake’s name appear on the screen, thinking he’s about to tell me he’s on his way. My bags are packed for a weekend with him and Sinead and I’m raring to go.
“I’m so sorry,” he says when I put the phone to my ear, “I’m going to have to cancel on you again.”
“Oh, it’s okay,” I say, trying desperately hard not to sound disappointed.
“I promise this is the last time.”
“It’s work, Blake. I understand.”
“It’s not good enough though. I should be able to take you out, not be dealing with this.”
“Don’t beat yourself up about it. It’s your job,” I say, trying to convince myself as well as him it’s true. What I really want to say is to tell whoever it is with a leaky tap or whatever they’ll have to wait until Monday, but I know for a fact if someone rang and asked for a last minute cake I’d have a hard time turning them down.
“I promise, this is the last time,” he repeats, sounding disheartened by the whole thing.
“Okay.”
“I’ve no idea how long I’m going to be tonight so I’ll pick you up in the morning.” That sentence really knocks the wind out of me because when he said he was cancelling I thought he just meant dinner and that he would get me after.
“Oh, yeah, okay.”
“I really am sorry, Addison.”
When I hang up the phone I can’t help but think something more serious is going on than him being called out to fix something. His apologies were a little over the top.
I strip out of my dress and pull the grips from my hair, replacing them with some comfortable Friday night clothes to watch TV in. Aunt Addy’s out with friends tonight and Mum is God only knows where, so I knock myself up a simple pasta dinner before sitting down with my notebook to plan out some more dishes for the bakery.
“Addison, wake up,” I hear Mum say, dragging me from my sleep. I open my eyes and take in my surroundings. I must have fallen asleep because I’m still on Aunt Addy’s sofa with my notebook on my lap. I look to see Mum’s wide eyes staring down on me.
“What is it, Mum?” I don’t mean for it to come out like a groan but it does.
“I’ve just seen Blake out with another woman.”
“What? Don’t be ridiculous, he’s working.”
“Addison, I wouldn’t be telling you this if I wasn’t 100% sure.” The smell of alcohol on her breath doesn’t help her case.
“He’s working,” I repeat, already bored of this conversation.
“Fine, don’t believe me, but I swear on your life I just saw your boyfriend out to dinner with another woman—and not a friendly kind of dinner, either. Go and see for yourself.” She continues to rattle of the name of a restaurant in Belfast where she saw them less than an hour ago.
“What were you doing in Belfast?”
