‘Hi!’ Mollie squeaked.
Maureen continued her spiel at the camera, ‘We’re here today at the Ruby Rooms in Camden Square, where Mollie and her friends have set up an arts centre in the space left for them by – wait for it – none other than musical superstar Ruby Tuesday! What do you think Ruby would say about your healthy eating programme Mollie?’
That there were worse things you could do to a kid than give them an extra-large chocolate bar, and she’d experienced most of them? Mollie sighed.
‘Um, Ruby really cared that every kid got the same opportunities, that health and hope weren’t just reserved for the kids with rich parents, which is why –’
‘Well, that’s an excellent point, so can you tell us what you want to do with Mollie Makes...?’
‘Everything is fresh, wholesome and healthy, but there are still treats kids can have. My little girl is pretty open-minded when it comes to food, but I’m pretty sure if I’d told her these chocolate brownies were made with black beans, she wouldn’t have gone near them. But she loves them,’ Mollie shrugged, ‘I’m catering birthday parties, after-school clubs and hoping to look into making lunch boxes. Our kids are suffering because parents don’t have enough time to go through the packaging on food and figure out what’s had sugar added to it, what’s unhealthy, what’s going to leave them struggling to concentrate at the end of the school day. Believe me, I know how exhausting it is to be a parent!’ Mollie smiled, ‘My aim is to make that choice simpler, by providing fresh, creative alternatives to treats.’
Maureen turned back to the camera, ‘And we can attest to how delicious these treats are, folks! So Mollie, what’s next?’
Mollie tugged on her blonde ponytail and looked anxiously at the camera, ‘Well, I’m running a parents-and-kids cooking class, focusing on some of the nicest treats, and easiest dinner options, so kids and parents can connect through cooking healthy food together. The course starts in a couple of weeks and is run here, at the Ruby Rooms.’
‘Well that’s all we have time for, but thanks Mollie, for talking to us about your wonderful treats, and feeding us some of them! Look on the Morning AM website for Mollie’s Black Bean Chocolate Brownie recipe and for more information on the workshops.’
Mollie wasn’t sure whether to say ‘thank you’ or not, so she just smiled inanely until the little red light on the camera went off.
‘The guys will just get some shots of all of the food. Our team will email you for the recipe – it’s a good way to promote!’ Maureen smiled, ‘And I like that you didn’t feel you had to overplay the “I’m a mum” card, showing a bit of skin, I liked it.’
Maureen nodded at Mollie’s shirt. She looked down and noticed the severe amount of cleavage on show and almost fell over, ‘Oh, Maureen, sorry, do you think we could do it again? I didn’t realise...’ she gestured at her top and the woman simply smiled knowingly.
‘Oh, you’re very good. I really do wish you the best Mollie, I think what you’re doing is great, and you obviously know how to sell it.’
‘Oh no, it wasn’t –’
‘You’ll go far, Mollie,’ Maureen winked, ‘I think we’ll be hearing from you again.’
The team left soon after, the cameramen grinning at her, thanking her for the food, and Mollie collapsed onto the sofa, wondering how she always managed to make a fool of herself.
In Crouch End, not far from the studios, a man sat aimlessly watching morning television. He hadn’t slept that night, or the night before, and the mindless chatter of the television kept enough of his attention to stop his mind wandering. There were things he didn’t want to think about. He was back on leave from the army, and he knew the routine – it would take another two weeks before he could properly sleep.
But god, morning television was asinine. Top ten tips to your winter wardrobe, let’s chat to this nineties pop star who is now in a West End musical... why weren’t they talking about war, about politics? Why did no one know about the horrible things happening in other countries and what he’d been fighting for? That said, a bit much to watch whilst chomping away on your Weetabix.
He needed something to keep his mind active, he knew. He needed a distraction, a reason for hope. A new hobby, maybe he could volunteer at a charity or something. That’s what his counsellor said. He wouldn’t be confirmed ready to return to active duty unless he got his head in order.
He often felt that this wasn’t meant to be his life, that if he could follow it back to the root, that moment when everything changed, he might be living in a different place, doing something different. Instead, he had started a life of misguided gut instincts and limited choices, and here he was. A damaged soldier in a dark room, with no one to visit.
‘We’re here today at the Ruby Rooms in Camden Square...’ the perky news reporter with the scary teeth started and the man blinked at the screen, leaning forward and turning on the light so that he could see more clearly. Ruby Tuesday, they definitely said Ruby Tuesday. Which meant... that was really Mollie on screen. His Mollie.
She looked beautiful but awkward, her long blonde hair the same as it had always been, curling slightly at the ends, and her face had softened. She was wearing subtle make-up, and a smart white shirt with black trousers that made her look a little like a waitress for a catering company. Her eyes were still piercing, dark against her light hair. That shirt showed off how her figure had developed since they were teenagers, she looked womanly, warm and soft and strong. She was still as beautiful as he remembered.
He listened intently as she spoke, laughing awkwardly and looking into the camera at certain moments. It made sense she’d go into healthy cooking, her mum was terrible at feeding her. She said she’d once survived for two weeks on turkey dinosaurs for dinner, because her mum got eighteen boxes for a pound when the corner shop freezer broke. Suddenly all those memories started returning, all those moments with Mollie that he hadn’t forgotten, but stored away somewhere safe.
She had a kid, she was a mum. Well, that wasn’t surprising. She always wanted that, eventually. It was a timing thing, that was the only problem with them, back in the day. He was glad their issues hadn’t stopped her. The man ran a hand through the rough stubble on his chin and thought about it – well, he’d been the hurt party, she was the one who’d disappeared without a backwards glance or a telephone number. And if he was over it, why shouldn’t he stop by, see an old school friend? Especially when she was only down the road?
It felt like a sign. He’d been asking for a reason, a reason to turn on the lights, to leave the house, to engage his brain in any way. For the first time in the two weeks since he’d been back in the UK, Jamie MacAllister got up and actually smiled.
***
‘You know, Mollie would never have to know,’ Ruby fluttered her eyelashes and leaned in towards Jamie, her lips pouting.
Jamie snorted, taking a step back, ‘Rubes, either you’re a shit friend to Mollie, which I know isn’t true, or you’re testing me, which is a bit shit too, to be honest. So, what’s going on?’
Ruby leaned back and grinned, ‘Good. You passed. None of Evie’s or Chelsea’s boyfriends have ever passed.’
‘You kissed their boyfriends and they didn’t pull your hair out or give you a black eye?’ Jamie shook his head, ‘Girls are weird.’
Mollie walked over, frowning, ‘I told you not to do that shit any more.’
Ruby smiled, shrugging, her red curls bouncing on her shoulders, the school jumper wrapped around her waist. ‘He passed. He’s a good one. You have my blessing!’ Ruby waltzed off,