‘All right, all right. Let’s go for a walk at least, since we’re here.’
Hampstead Heath was beautiful in the winter – a sharper, more melancholy sort of beauty than in the summer. Branches were barren, the grass was dead and muddy, but still I felt energised being in the cold and inhaling the fresh, crisp air.
‘Let’s stop here,’ Lucy said after a while. ‘I could do with a cuppa.’
Stopping at a bench, we sat down and she pulled out her Thermos and two paper cups. Handing one to me, she proceeded to take out a little foil parcel. Unwrapping it, I found a thick slice of moist banana bread, the scent of butter and vanilla tingling my nose.
‘This is amazing,’ I told her, scoffing down the entire piece in two bites. ‘You should become a professional baker.’
‘Since my research skills are so crap?’ Lucy chuckled, taking a dainty bite out of her own slice.
‘Well, that and the fact that this is the best banana bread I’ve ever eaten.’
Lucy sighed. ‘To be honest, I’ve been questioning my future a lot lately. Your list and the fact that you’ve applied to do your LLM has made me think about what’s next for me. And I’ve realised that there isn’t anything next. Is this it? Is my life going to be like this forever?’
‘Of course not,’ I tried to reassure her as I took a sip of tea. It was weak and definitely not Yorkshire Tea, but I wasn’t about to complain. Unlike Ma, who has been known to send me back to the kitchen to make her a new cup of tea if it was too weak, too strong or too tepid. ‘We’re only twenty-seven. We’ve got loads of time to figure out what we want to do with the rest of our lives.’
‘Have we, though? I feel like I was twenty-one and graduating just the other day. I blinked and became twenty-seven. I need to hurry up and make up my mind.’
‘Well, if you weren’t the best paralegal at our firm, what would you be?’
‘I don’t know. Maybe a stylist?’
‘I can definitely see you as a stylist,’ I said and then looked at her fluffy legs sticking out from beneath her massive coat. ‘Well, maybe not right this moment.’
‘Oi, I’m pouring my heart out here.’
‘Sorry,’ I shrugged unapologetically, taking another sip of tea. ‘What about starting a fashion thing on the side to see how it goes? You could start up an Instagram or TikTok account? Your style is amazing, Luce, it could really take off.’
‘Do you think?’ Lucy looked at me, her blue eyes huge and round. I could practically smell her fear. ‘I don’t know if I could handle putting myself out there for people to scrutinise. I don’t have the confidence for it.’
Now it was my turn to stare at her. How was someone who was usually confident so unsure of herself? It made no sense to me. When I looked at Lucy, I saw a woman who was smart, sassy, beautiful and kind. I told her this and though her cheeks and nose were already pink from the cold, she turned redder.
‘Enough about me, let’s see what’s next on the list. I’m assuming you brought the notebook with you?’
‘I always have it with me,’ I admitted sheepishly.
‘I know! Let’s have a look.’
Lucy opened the book and her entire face lit up. ‘You’re not going to believe this,’ she grinned. ‘This is going to be bloody amazing.’
‘What is it?’ Lucy thought my jumping into a bowl of ice was going to be ‘amazing’. Her definition of the word was clearly warped.
I leant over and looked at Noah’s artsy scrawl and began to smile.
‘Looks like you’ve got your first client, Luce. Shall we say next weekend?’
Chapter Fifteen
‘Morning, Ma,’ I sang out as I ran down the rickety stairs to the ground floor the next morning.
‘Why are you so cheery this morning?’ my mum asked suspiciously and rightly so, since I had been avoiding her ever since the whole dekha dekhi palaver. She was in the kitchen, loading a plate with chilli omelette, spicy baked beans and toast. Freshly brewed masala tea simmered in a pan and I watched as she poured it through a sieve and into her favourite mug – one I had decorated for her when I was in primary school. Everyone but Ma woke up late on a Sunday. Whenever I asked her why she didn’t sleep in for once, she said it was a waste of time.
‘I’m feeling positive,’ I shrugged, taking a swig of tea from her mug like I’d been doing since I was a child. It was strong, spicy and sweet. ‘Can I finish what’s in the pan?’
‘OK, pour yourself a bit. I was saving it for Malik. Where are you off to today?’
‘Shopping with my work friend, Lucy. I think I need a new look. I’ve been wearing the same old stuff for years and I don’t think it’s doing me any favours.’
‘It’s not,’ a voice agreed from the doorway. Malik, who never usually rose before midday on a Sunday, chose that moment to saunter into the kitchen. ‘Ma, I’m going out in a bit. Can I have some breakfast, please?’
I scowled at Malik as my mum handed her plate of food and the tea that I was hoping to drink to him. He grinned at me and went over to the dining room to sit down, while Ma began making another breakfast for herself. Entitled little shit. But as much as I wanted to blame him for his laziness, I knew it was largely my mum’s fault for spoiling him – her precious only son, first of his name, heir to the iron throne.
‘What’s your problem with my style?’ I demanded, entering the dining room with my bowl of Coco Pops. But even as I said it, I wished I hadn’t. I knew I needed an image overhaul – and thanks to number nine on Noah’s list – See a Stylist – I was about to get one – but hearing it from someone else wasn’t going to make me feel any better.
‘Listen, Dimple, are we calling this look you’ve been sporting for the past few years’ “style”?’ he replied, waving a finger at said ‘look’. I was wearing a plain grey jumper, faded jeans and slightly tatty boots. It might not have been the most fashionable outfit but it wasn’t that bad and I was going to be traipsing around London all day. I needed to be practical.
‘Don’t call me Dimple. And it might not be your style, but it’s mine,’ I replied sullenly, wishing I had never followed him to the dining room.
‘You obviously know your “look” is boring, otherwise why are you overhauling it, Dimple?’
He’d got me there.
‘Get lost,’ I said childishly and he grinned as I wolfed down my breakfast and then stomped back to the kitchen to wash my empty bowl.
‘Leave it with me,’ Ma sighed. ‘Ignore your brother. Go on, go shopping, have fun. It’s good to see you going out and enjoying yourself more these days.’