Inspired by people-watching

Turning Point

Tessa walked through the glass double doors and instantly hated the bustle of the place. The coolness of the air outside had made her eyes sting, but the artificial heat within the walls of The Brasserie made her feel claustrophobic and vulnerable. She squeezed the hand of her three year old son who trotted beside her and he gazed up with eyes that hadn’t seen a lot of the world yet. She wished she could protect him from the burden of growing up so his eyes could stay that way forever.

Her friends, whenever they came round for coffee, would always swap stories about the ‘adorable’ questions their children asked them. Things like, “Why is Auntie Susan so fat?” and “Why are those doggies jumping on each other?” But stories like this only caused a shadow of dread to settle over Tessa, and the laugh that was forced from her lips would sound hollow and fake. She couldn’t bear to think of the day when Bertie would ask, “Why are you getting dressed mummy, when you get back into bed when daddy leaves?” or, “Why don’t you answer the telephone when it rings?” It is one thing for a child to ask questions, but it is another when there are no reasonable answers to give to them.

Her husband Daniel pulled out a chair for her to sit on and then went to the bar to order some drinks. She sat down and helped Bertie to look at his menu, moving the green napkin and extra set of cutlery out of his way. She thought it seemed a little adult to bring Bertie here, but Daniel had assured her it was child-friendly. Glancing at his broad smile to the barman as he paid, she felt a sudden twinge of guilt. If a meal out as a family once a month was enough to persuade him that she was happy, it was a sacrifice she was willing to make.

Meg took a sip from her wine glass. She hoped the garlic from her starter didn’t linger on her breath, as she had already decided that she wouldn’t reject a kiss from James at the end of the night. Her mother would gloat over the success of the evening, having introduced the couple two weeks previously; she always was one to make sure she got the credit she deserved.

“So what is it you do Meg, your mum mentioned you were in retail?”

“Erm yeah, I’m a window dresser for Selfridges, it’s pretty much my dream job. I get to put gorgeous outfits together that cost more than I earn in a year, and I’ve met loads of amazing people. It’s really good to be part of an industry that’s constantly changing, you know?”

“Yeah, I can’t imagine anything worse than being bored at work, that’s the main reason I went back to college. Sales just wasn’t the area for me. Some people talk to you like you’re worthless, it did my head in.” Meg nodded, admiring the plushness of her surroundings. She had never been to this place before, and it seemed pretty upmarket. She hoped that James would pay the bill.

The waiter brought over their main courses, and James topped up their wine. The smell from his steak and the sight of the blood as he cut into it caused Meg to feel slightly faint. She considered making a beeline for the toilets, but didn’t want to seem rude. Eyes firmly on the art-deco wallpaper above him; she focused on the flavours from her moussaka and hoped that the wave of nausea would subside. He seemed to be worth it so far.

“She’s an absolute fucking bitch mate, you need to show her that she can’t dick you around like that, it’s out of order.” Jake watched as Olly’s hand gestures became more animated as he continued. “Do you think if you’d done that she’d just be sat here nursing a pint? Bollocks! She’s a woman, she’d be straight ‘round to your parent’s house telling them what an arse you are, or cutting your clothes up or something.”

“Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned, hey?”

“What? Mate look at you, sat here moping, spurting out Shakespeare, where are your balls?”

“She’s probably taken them with her, wherever she’s gone.”

Jake finished his pint and stood up to go to the gents. He wanted some peace. Olly was the only one of his friends who was free when he found the note, and he was now regretting meeting up. He didn’t want to talk about it; he just wanted to get gradually pissed and then maybe fall asleep on the sofa watching late night repeats of Family Guy. Perhaps going to his parent’s house as he first thought would have been a wiser move. At least his mum wouldn’t suggest he throw paint over Jess’s car, and his dad might bring out the whisky.

As he walked through the door to the toilets he bumped into a large man with a thick gold watch clearly visible on his wrist. Jake wished he owned such luxuries, as it would certainly help the situation he now found himself in. He was already dreading getting the bill, as Oliver’s choice of venue was slightly above his normal budget, and that was before all of this had happened.

Alec returned to the table and put a chunky hand on Naomi’s shoulder.

“So, who’s for some champagne to seal the deal?” He smiled at his guests, and gestured over to the waitress who was loitering in the corner in wait for his next request.

“A magnum of Veuve, eight glasses, and have one yourself” he added, with a wink at the brunette.

A risky investment from a couple of years ago had finally paid off. It meant a substantial pay rise for each of the area managers, and plans being drawn up for an extension to head office meaning the business could branch out into foreign waters.

It was worth a celebration. He’d give Naomi a bonus too. She always kept the wives sweet at these monthly dinners, and employees who were getting laid without having to pay meant less grumpy meetings and fewer disgruntled workers. For how discreet and loyal she was, the money he already paid her was a drop in the ocean.

Naomi had been Alec’s ‘wife’ for the past three years. As he looked at her now, she smiled warmly, her chestnut brown bob reflecting the dimmed lights. She made a joke to the other women, the Scottish lilt to her voice emphasising her easygoing demeanour. Alec had been careful to choose a girl who wasn’t too pretty for him, as he didn’t want people guessing that he paid for her. Their relationship was strictly professional. Alec was no longer interested in sex, one of the reasons why his ex-wife had left him, and he was far too busy to waste his time looking for a real relationship. The arrangement had suited them both.

Naomi accompanied Alec to business events, social dinners, and went on holiday with him twice a year. In return he paid the mortgage on her apartment, as well as an hourly rate when she was with him. All she had to do was look pretty, sound intelligent and steer clear of gossip that might reveal her identity.

The brunette arrived with the champagne.