During the editing process of writing a book, you will quite often delete words, sentences, paragraphs and even whole chapters of what you’ve written in order to make the story better. I thought I’d share a chapter that got booted out of ‘Free Fall’ by my editor with you. I really liked this chapter as it gave an insight as to why Ellie felt the way she did about Alex, but of course my editor was 100% correct as it just didn’t move the story on quickly enough. So, here it is, and who knows it might turn up in another book one day….
As I entered the restaurant, I couldn’t help but feel a frisson of nervousness as my husband had been working away from home for the last week. I knew it was daft to be feel like that, but things hadn’t been great for a while now and my idea of ‘date night’ hadn’t exactly been met with much enthusiasm when I mentioned it. Still, at least he’d agreed to it, which was a positive.
“Table for two in the name of Thompson,” I told the young man who had rushed over to greet me at the door. “I’m afraid I’m a bit early.”
“No problem at all. This way madam.”
My guide moved off at speed and I walked as quickly as I could in my heels behind him, taking care not to lose my footing on the shiny wooden floor.
I was led underneath an internal archway to a nook just off the main restaurant area. It was perfect for a romantic dinner. Softly lit with well-placed lamps sharing their golden glow generously amongst five oak topped tables all languishing in the warmth of a lit fire which crackled invitingly.
“Is this table ok madam?”
I was gestured towards a table for two which rested against the near wall, the furthest away from an older couple who were sat holding hands across the top of their own table. A smile touched my lips as they looked up at me briefly, returning my smile before once again focussing on each other. It gave me high hopes that Alex and I could be doing the same thing ourselves shortly.
“It’s great, thank you.”
I chose the seat which would give me a view of both the fireplace and the chrome topped bar on the other side of the archway. It meant I’d be able to see Alex when he arrived, and I laid my coat across it’s back before sitting down.
“Can I get you anything while you wait?”
I looked at my watch. I had at least twenty minutes to kill. “I’ll have a glass of Prosecco please, and could I see the wine list?”
“Of course.”
I stretched out my legs under the table, longing to slip off my uncomfortable shoes and warm my stockinged toes with the heat of the fire. As I shifted my position my faux leather skirt rasped a little against the hide of the chair I was sat in, and embarrassed at the sound, I shifted in my seat again as if to prove the noise had been nothing more untoward. I was never going to be one of life’s naturally elegant women.
Fighting off a rising blush, I placed my mobile phone on top of the crisp white napkin, which was folded artfully in front of me, so that it was ready to be used as a distraction until Alex arrived. I hadn’t wanted to be this early, but unusually the cab I’d booked had arrived on time, so I hadn’t had to make the usual calls chasing them up at ten-minute intervals only to be told each time that they were just round the corner.
Never mind. There were worse places to wait on a bitterly cold Friday evening in February than the Arrowhead Hotel Bar & Restaurant. It was where Alex had taken me for our first date, and while this evening wasn’t about celebrating anything, I just wanted the setting to trigger good memories for the both of us.
I noticed that they’d renovated since the last time we’d been here, which to be fair, was a while ago. The walls were now a muted dusky pink where I sat, and they rested comfortably alongside the dark wooden beams that ran across the ceiling.
From the bar area I heard a cork pop, and I watched as a bartender stood behind the olive-green panelling of the bar pouring bubbles into a slender glass. It was whisked away as soon as the base touched the top of the brushed chrome bar by a young woman dressed smartly in a black skirt and white blouse and I charted her progress towards me, feeling a slight twinge of jealousy at her comfortable looking shoes.
She placed the glass in front of me, next to the small vase, which was filled with early Daffodil blooms, and handed me the wine list, saying she’d be back shortly to take my order.
“Thank you.” I smiled up at her, before opening the smart folder and running my finger down the list of wines. Alex was a red wine drinker, and as much as I’d tried, I’d never really liked it that much. It was too heavy for me and always gave me a headache. About the only one I could tolerate was Pinot Noir and I was relieved to see it listed. I’d order a bottle of that.
I lifted my glass to my lips, feeling the bubbles of Prosecco fizz and pop against the tip of my nose. This had been a good idea, the pair of us, away from home in a neutral environment with no distractions. It’d be good to talk, to look each other in the eye, and hold hands over the table maybe. I reached out my fingers to stroke the petals of the daffodils, just checking to see if they were natural or a very realistic fake. They were real. It was a good sign.
The waitress returned and took my order for wine, returning only moments later with two long stemmed glasses and a bottle. “Would you like to try it?” She proffered the neck of the Pinot Noir forwards.
“Oh…no, it’s fine thanks. If you could just leave the bottle, please.” I wouldn’t be able to tell if it was any good or not anyway.
She placed the bottle on the table as requested and I stared at it for a moment, mesmerised by the tiny reflection of the fire mirrored in the dark coloured glass. Breaking my stare, I took another sip of Prosecco and unlocked my phone, noticing that it was now ten to seven. Alex wasn’t late, but I had hoped he’d try to be early.
The smell of the food from the kitchens was making me hungry, and my stomach gurgled a little to let me know how displeased it was that there was nothing in it. I took another sip of Prosecco to keep it quiet and started scrolling through social media to keep my mind off it.
Nothing much was happening, but then I didn’t really involve myself with it much. An old school friend was on holiday, sharing pictures of cocktails with a backdrop of a white sandy beach. Next was an advert for a soundwave song print, which was a nice idea. If Alex and I got back on track perhaps it’d make a nice present to get him using the song we’d had for the first dance at our wedding. It’d be a lovely anniversary gift. There were a couple of funny memes, one of which I even made the effort to like with an emoji.
There were no recent updates from Alex, which was no surprise as he was even worse than me on social media, and the last update from my best friend Helen was a photo of her and Christine surrounded by boxes in their new home in Birmingham. I’d already put a heart against that image weeks ago, even though I’d been gutted that my best friend of nearly fifteen years had abandoned me to live miles away with the love of her life. I sighed, feeling lonely and swiped my phone to turn off Facebook, checking the time before putting it facedown once more on the table.
Alex was now five minutes late.
I sighed and finished my Prosecco, watching with longing as the waitress appeared again with two loaded plates of food for the couple sat behind me. A waft of garlic filled my nose as she passed, and my stomach gurgled in protest again. Maybe I should ask for some breadsticks. Maybe I should just ring Alex to see how much longer he was going to be. I’d give it another few minutes first though as he was probably stuck in traffic. It was Friday evening after all.
I poured myself a glass of the red wine and swirled it around, sniffing it before bringing the glass to my lips. It wasn’t that bad actually. A bit floral, but light enough to avoid those dark tannins.
As I placed the glass back on the table the young man who’d escorted me in appeared round the corner of the archway, and I sat up straight in anticipation of seeing my husband’s tall frame follow him round the corner. It was disappointing to see a woman in a black and white striped trouser suit follow him, along with her dinner date. Where the hell was Alex?
I knew this dinner was a last-minute suggestion, but still…If he was going to be late, why wouldn’t he at least let me know? I was trying my hardest to make things better, while everything seemed like too much effort for him. It felt like he never wanted to be near me anymore. Not since the accident.
Where ARE you? I gave in and messaged him, before resuming my mindless scrolling on my phone while waiting for his response. It came halfway through a You Tube video about how to do French plaits.
Ellie, I’m so sorry. Ive only just got to Euston station after being stuck on the underground for an hour and now all the trains have been cancelled. I’m not going to make it.
My heart dropped as I stared across at the empty seat opposite me, knowing that it was going to remain that way.
OMG, replied. Is everything ok?
I’m fine. Don’t know what’s happened to the trains though.
But do you know when they’ll be running again? Maybe I could drive up to get you? As I typed the words, I knew they were stupid. I’d already had too much to drink as it was, but I’d been so looking forward to seeing him.
I don’t think the trains are going to start running anytime soon, and it’s way too far for you to come.
I swallowed and switched screens on my phone to look for any train line announcements, but I couldn’t find anything.
Is there a replacement bus service perhaps?
I don’t think so, besides it’ll take forever.
I knew the next sentence was coming before he even typed the words, bringing to life all the doubts that had been lurking around in the shadows of my mind recently.
Look, I’ll just get a cheap hotel room up here for the night.
I wondered what her name was.
Sherry x
