I Owe You One: A Novel(95)

“What the fuck!” exclaims Jake, staring at me. “What’s got into you?”

“It’s her new boyfriend,” says Nicole, in sudden inspiration. “That’s what it is. He’s put her up to it.”

“What new boyfriend?” Jake swivels to face her.

“Sebastian Whatsit. The guy who was Ryan’s boss? She’s, like, practically living with him.”

“You’re going out with him?” says Jake incredulously. “The investment guy?”

“That’s irrelevant,” I say shortly. “And I have some other things to say.”

My words are hovering in a thought bubble, like they always are, all neatly formed. Come on, Ninja Fixie. Say them.

I draw breath—then make the mistake of glancing at Jake. His face is so aggressive that for a moment I can feel the old feelings resurfacing. Inadequate. Guilty. Inferior. Rubbish.

But I have to punch through those feelings. Go, Fixie, go.

“Nicole, you have to cancel all your yoga,” I say firmly. “It’s disruptive and it hasn’t attracted any new customers; it’s just made problems. It has to stop and I’m restocking the shop, my way.”

Pow.

“Disruptive?” says Nicole, sounding offended.

“Yes, disruptive. And, Jake, for you I have a question.” I turn to him, forcing my voice to stay steady. “Why are you borrowing so much money from Farrs and when are you paying it back and why wasn’t it mentioned at the last meeting?”

Bam.

I can see the light of shock in Jake’s eyes, but almost at once he’s regained his swaggering demeanor.

“It’s an inter-business loan,” he drawls, taking a sip of his drink. “Really, Fixie, you are getting your knickers in a twist.”

“I didn’t know we could take out loans,” says Nicole with interest. “That’s cool.”

“We can’t!” I practically shout. “Why do you need loans from Farrs, anyway, Jake?” I say in a calmer, more diplomatic voice. “What’s going on? Why didn’t you just say to us this was happening? And why keep it from Mum?”

I lean forward, trying to get through to the man I saw the other day. The one who talked to me with respect and affection, who felt like a real brother.

But that Jake has vanished. This one won’t even meet my eye.

“Nothing’s ‘going on,’ ” he says with elaborate sarcasm. “I’ve had a holdup in Asia. It’s simply a cash-flow thing.” He sounds dismissive, although I can see his fingers clenching the menu tightly and a vein throbbing at his temple. “You’re really quite unsophisticated, Fixie. Do you have any idea about global export deals? No. So take it from me, there’s nothing to worry about. Now, are we going to order some food?”

“Yes,” says Uncle Ned emphatically.

Is that all they can think about? Food? My attempt at calmness instantly vanishes. I’m going to punch and kick as hard as I can.

“You’re all users!” I spit. “You’re only interested in how much expensive food you can eat. Porterhouse steak? At …” I grab the menu, to check the price. “At thirty quid? This is Mum’s business! Not a piggy bank!”

“And this is a business dinner!” says Jake.

“You treat the business like a joke!” I retort. “You don’t care about it! How many times have you been to the shop since Mum went away, Uncle Ned? Once?”

“After all I’ve done for you!” huffs Uncle Ned, looking livid. “After your father died—”

“Oh, that’s right, you negotiated our lease,” I cut in scathingly. “Did you really, Uncle Ned? Or did Bob have anything to do with it?”

“I have never been so offended in my life!” Uncle Ned’s voice is trembling with fury. He thumps down his drink and shoots a glare at me. “I don’t have to be here, you know. I’m giving up my time, simply out of the goodness of my heart, simply because your mother asked me to, because every organization needs a Man of the House—”

“Not us,” I cut him off. “Mum was mistaken. We don’t need a Man of the House.” And I stare at him silently, steel in my eyes.

Kapow.

“I’m going!” says Uncle Ned, his fleshy neck wobbling as he gets to his feet. “I won’t take this anymore. Never been so offended,” he mutters as he heads toward the exit. “Never been so insulted.”

“Oh my God,” says Nicole, as she watches him leave. “You’ve started something now, Fixie.”

“Good,” I say, unrepentant. “I wanted to start something.”

“Fixie, cut it out,” says Jake, sounding properly irate. “You’re embarrassing yourself and us.”

“I’m not. I just want a few answers. Why are you borrowing all that money, Jake? What’s it for? When will you pay it back? What exactly have you told Mum?”

“For God’s sake!” Jake almost shouts, as though I’ve scalded him. “Why are you so obsessed? The business will be ours one day. What’s the difference?”

“Mum might want to sell it! That’s her retirement fund! We have to keep it safe!” I swivel to Nicole. “Did you know Jake was taking so much money out of the business?”