Page 89 of Just Do It
‘Not when you have someone on the inside.’
‘Sounds great, if they can fit us in.’
Finn turned his back to the wind, released my hand and pulled his phone from his coat pocket and made a call. A few minutes later, we had a table for four booked at, what Googleinformed me later, was one of the most sought-after restaurants in the south-west. Images of celebrities entering and exiting the exclusive establishment filled my screen. I was most definitely not the person to list as your phone a friend when it came to these matters but even I knew who Tom Hanks, Cara Delavigne and Ryan Reynolds were, and apparently all these and more were huge fans of Finn’s friend’s cooking.
‘This looks swanky,’ Dad said as Finn assisted Mum from the car.
‘I was just thinking the same thing.’
‘Don’t worry,’ Finn said, beeping the locks closed. ‘It’s got a really relaxed vibe to it. Mel was keen on that from the start.’
‘Until you get the bill,’ I said, only half joking.
Finn gave me a look I couldn’t quite decipher. I shrugged back. ‘It was just a joke.’
‘I’m paying anyway.’
‘Oh no, Finn. We can’t allow that.’
Finn turned towards Dad, his smile slipping back into place. ‘Really, I insist. And don’t worry,’ he glanced back in my direction, ‘I get mates’ rates so it’s not as impressive a gesture as it seems.’ He gave Mum a conspiratorial wink. ‘Come on, let’s get in out of the cold.’ Finn strode to the door, opened it and ushered us all in, following in last behind me.
‘I’m afraid we’re fully booked tonight,’ the maître d’ said after giving us a cursory scan and apparently found us wanting of both money and status.
‘We have a reservation,’ Finn said, stepping out of the shadows in the tiny entranceway. The man tilted his head up to take in this new addition to our party and obviously foundhim rather more to both his own taste and the establishment’s. Clearly Finn fit the ‘beautiful people only’ purview this sentinel held. Whether that was his own interpretation or had indeed come from the owner was unknown. What was known was that three out of the four of us were definitely not experiencing that ‘relaxed vibe’ Finn had spoken about – and we’d barely got in the door.
‘Oh?’ the maître d’ asked with what appeared to be the shadow of a genuine smile, apparently torn between exercising his power of rebuffing mere mortals and granting hallowed access to those who fit the agenda, like Finn.
‘Yep. Name of Finn.’
The man turned back to the screen. ‘Ah, my apologies, Mr Finn.’
‘No Mr. Just Finn.’
The man gave an accepting nod. Apparently Finn was now on a par with Kylie, Drake and Madonna in that he only needed one name to unlock the magical door. After all this condescension, I was rather wishing we’d gone to McDonalds. And bearing in mind I’d generally prefer to stay hungry rather than eat junk food, that was saying something.
With an understated flourish, he pulled back a heavy, damson-coloured velvet curtain and led us through into the hallowed dining area.
It was small, intimate and appropriately luxe. The velvet theme continued with upholstered chairs and, for those requiring yet another level of privacy than that afforded by the gatekeeper of the establishment, also on the banquettes in the few booths dotted around. Mum and Dad were unusually silent and I guessed they were feeling as overwhelmed as I was. Only Finn seemed at ease. The fun and relaxed dinner I’d hoped for on our last day with my parents was not turning out as planned. But perhaps it would get better when we were sat down.
It didn’t get better. The tension I saw in my parents’ body language was mirrored by my own. Conversation was stilted and a blend of annoyance and upset staved off any hunger pangs I might otherwise have felt. Here were two people who had spent their years studying and lecturing in some of the keystones of education. They’d given speeches in front of large audiences all over the world and now this piddly little restaurant with its ideas of grandeur had reduced them almost to silence. Had I known this was Finn’s friend’s idea of ‘relaxed’, I never would have agreed to coming. A bottle of Dom Perignon champagne had arrived at the table ‘courtesy of the chef’ a few minutes after we had sat down and I’d necked a glass and a half already.
‘Have you got any plans for this year, Mum?’
‘Oh, erm, well,’ she said, becoming more animated than she’d been since we’d stepped inside. ‘We were thinking of taking a trip to—’
‘Necker Island, of course, darling!’ The woman’s alcohol-infused voice speared into our conversation as she passed beside us, her gaze hovering a moment or two longer than required on Finn as she continued her dialogue. ‘You know everyone’s going for the party and then a few weeks skiing in St Moritz. Where else would anyone be in January?’ Her laugh drifted behind her as they were seated a few tables away.
‘Shrewsbury,’ Mum finished quietly, all excitement and enthusiasm now absent from her voice. ‘Not very glamorous compared to private islands and St Moritz, I’m afraid.’ She gave a small smile but I saw the discomfort behind it. Dad reached and took her hand in his, a gesture of silent support.
The anger bubbled inside me.
‘I know where I’d rather go,’ I said, pointedly. ‘What are you hoping to see? I’ve always wanted to go to the library. I hear it’s fascinating but have somehow never managed to visit yet.’
‘Oh.’ Mum perked up a little. ‘Yes, that was certainly on our list. Although I doubt it’s to everyone’s taste.’ She gave an apologetic glance at Finn. ‘I’m sure it sounds positively dull to a lot of people.’
‘Not at all,’ Finn replied.
‘Have you been?’ I asked, turning to him.
