Yours Truly (49 page)

I've been emailing with Meg religiously. She's doing a tour of Europe with Robbie and is having the time of her life. Apparently there's a huge buzz about their band and a record is even in the pipeline! She really is going to be a pop star! The next stop on their tour is Paris, so I'll get to see her in a few short weeks. I can't wait.

Things have been better with
M
um. We speak to each other on the phone every day and it’s ne
ver awkward. In that sense the truth-t
elling worked wonders. I no longer feel the need to lie to her. I told her the truth about my feelings, about our childhood and about not wanting to be tied to home for the rest of my life. It was hard at first, but she’s coming round. In fact, I think she’s a little bit proud of me. Proud that I’ve taken the plunge and left Manchester on my own. She says I’m brave. That makes me happy. And she’s happier now too. She’s got an admirer in the shape of Riley’s uncle Alan. He sends her his shampoo (soon to be available in Harrods!)
and boxes of vegetables -
his version of an overture, I gu
ess - on a regular basis, but Mu
m says she’s taking a leaf out of my book and learning to be independent. I don’t know how long that’ll last for though. From what she’s told me the chemistry between them is smoking hot! Eeeeeeew.

I get to the where I need to be and take a deep breath. The building is huge. A masterpiece of French 18th Century
architecture, the Hotel du R
êve
, which literally translates as Dream Hotel, is imposing and b
reath
-taking. Maybe I should have gotten changed. Too late now.

I push open the door and stop for a second, marvelling at the crystal chandeliers overhead. I gulp. I can’t believe I’m here.

I stride over to the reception desk where a stylish woman with cropped black hair asks what she can do for me.

“
Hello,
”
I say nervously in French.
“
My name is Natalie Butterworth. I’m here to begin my Cuisine Diploma?
”

The woman smiles and replies in English.
“
Welcome Natalie. Here are ze directions.
”

She points me down a long hallway and tells me to turn left at the bottom. I thank her and walk over the thick carpets down the corridor.

My heart begins to thud as I reach the kitchens. I push open the door.

It’s massive! Huge, long steel tops and silver chairs. At least eight stoves!

I notice that everyone is already dressed in their whites. A chubby woman points me in the direction of the changing rooms.

Heeheeeee!

I put on my whites and examine myself in the mirror.

My eyes are sparkling. I look like a chef. An actual chef!

And then:

“
She's an easy lovah. She'll get a hold on you belieeeeeeeeve it
…
”

I freeze.

What the pickle?

I turn around. And nonchalantly standing there against a locker, is Riley.

My Riley.

“
Your lips have gone down. I was starting to like them all puffed up.
”

My heart leaps into my throat. I want to hug him tightly; I want to kiss him hard and repeatedly. But I haven’t seen or talked to him in ages.

“
What - what are you doing here?
”
I breathe, unable to get over the sight of him. I giggle girlishly. I can't help myself.

“
Well, a very beautiful girl once told me that my cooking was shit. I thought it was about time I learned how to do it properly.
”

I laugh out loud.
“
A very beautiful girl, eh?
”

“
Amazing, actually.
”

“
You’re doing the course too?
”

He nods once, staring at me with those delicious eyes, the cutest grin fixed upon his face.

I take him in. He looks taller, if that’s even possible. And tanned, and well, perfect, actually.

Riley!

I can't believe it.

“
But what about
...
?
”

“
The Old Whimsy? Jasper’s left the family business and is gallivanting somewhere in Thailand so the pub is safe. In fact
,
Alan and Alfred are going to run it for a while.
They told me to bugger off. Apparently you’re not the only one who needs to live a little.
”

I nod, unable to take the smile off my face.

“
And Alfred? You’ve talked?
”

He shrugs.
“
It’s weird, I suppose. But we’re getting there. Getting to know one another.
”

“
I missed you,
”
I say as I drink him in.

“
I can go one better than that.
”

“
Oh yeah?
”

“
Yeah. I love you, Natalie Elspeth Butterworth. I should have said it at the church that d
ay because I felt it then, but -
”

“
Come here, Riley.
”

We fall into each other
’
s arms and kiss long and hard. My eyes flood with tears because I know that right here, right now, with him, is exactly where I'm supposed to be.

We pull back and look at each other, noses nuzzling.

“
We're going to have the best time,
”
Riley says, his voice husky with emotion.

“
I know. I’m so totally in love with you.
”

“
Truly?
”
he says raising a sandy eyebrow comically.

“
The absolute truth,
”
I return, taking his hand.

We stroll into the kitchens and stand behind our cooking stations, neither of us able to keep the grins off our faces.

Riley leans over and whispers:
“
You know just now, when I said ‘truly’, and you said ‘the absolute truth’?
”

“
Yeah?
”

“
That was dead cheesy wasn't it?
”

I laugh because I'd been thinking the exact same thing.

“
Yeah, it really was.
”
I smile, my skin tingling with joy I never knew I could feel.
“
But in the bestest of ways.
”

And then it's time to cook.

THE END

Visit the author at
www.kirstygreenwood.com

Huge thanks to my agent/cheerleader Hannah Ferguson for your positivity and unfailing belief in me.

Thanks to the splendid writerly types for their advice and encouragement; in particular Julia Williams, Miranda Dickinson, Mel Sherratt, Emma Stonex, Diane Shipley, Keris Stainton and Pippa Wright.

Thanks to Caroline Hogg for being an utterly lovely writing champion and comrade.

Thanks to my hugely talented and jaunty Novelicious team; Debs, Kira, Amanda, Cesca, Anna and Kirsty. I look forward to more TOP SECRETS.

Thanks to Tom Harrison for the chef tips. All foodie mistakes are mine.

Thanks to Nick Jones, the eggs are gonna be alright.

Thanks to Andy for many things, but mostly for being interested – I will let you read it now! And to Angie, for Greece.

Thanks to the Walshes and the Greenwoods, especially Sharon Dudley for the early reading and laughing in the right places!

Thanks to Ben Holmes (Parklife is in there – Bosh!) and to Rob Dixon.

Thanks to my gang; Net – for lighting the way for me and then holding my hand until I get there! Nic – for encouraging my mischievous side and brightening life with your own hilarious tales. Tony – for always believing in your big sister and sharing your books with me.

Thanks to my Mum. I could write another book about all the reasons why I am thankful to you. You are an angel.

Thanks to Dad for so much, especially for being proud of me and for always making me laugh. I hope this is a good as your books, especially my favourite -Roy Bean.

Thanks to my darling Edd for giving me the time and the space to write this story and for, quite simply, being the greatest person I have ever met.