Espresso

Chapter Twenty Four

A/N - Trigger Warning - eating disorder behaviours, vomiting, purging. 

Jet

Quaint and quiet, the restaurant is beautifully intimate, with an extensive menu of exquisite local delicacy. Only eight tables occupy the small space, each one decorated with a crisp, white tablecloth and accompanied by wooden chairs with intricate carvings decorating their backs. The cutlery glimmers under the string of fairy lights crowning the ceiling, the menus bound with leather backs as they await eager eyes and hungry hands fawning over them. I notice that there's a young man playing the violin at the front of the room, adding to the ambience of the setting, as we're shown to our table in the corner.

It's absolutely perfect.

I take a seat in the far corner and Harry slides in next to me, Anne sitting opposite. He orders us a bottle of merlot as we settle into our seats, the waiter appearing moments later to fill our glasses.

I peruse the menu, almost intimidated by the vast choices spanning across the pages before me. I zone out of the small talk between Harry and Anne as I scan the pages, trying not to think about the amount of calories in each of the choices.

"Jet?"

I snap my head up meet Harry's gaze, "sorry."

"You okay?" he says quietly.

"Yeah."

"How about we all choose one starter each and we get extra plates and we can all share?"

I'm confused at first but he gives me a discreet but encouraging nod and I smile.

"Sure, if that's okay with you Anne?"

"Of course. Then we all get a bit each."

I choose potato skins, Anne bruschetta and Harry a cheeseboard. We then all order some form of pasta  I'm surprised by his choice given the effort he's been putting into the gym recently and how meticulously he's been tracking his food. He thinks I haven't noticed, probably doesn't want to trigger my eating disorder, but I see how hard he's been working and I'd be lying if I said I hadn't been appreciating the progress - even amidst our argument. 

"So Jet, Harry tells me you're from up our ends," Anne begins as she takes a drink of wine. 

"Mum," Harry warns. 

"What? I'm just making conversation."

I smile at her and take a drink from my own glass, "yeah, yeah, sunny Stretford."

The waiter comes and dishes up our starters, momentarily interrupting our conversation. He hands us an extra plate each and I try to push all thoughts of calories to the back of my mind as I put a little bit of everything on my plate and gingerly pick up my fork. I carefully push my fork into a piece of potato, dip it into the garlic mayonnaise and look at it for a moment. Harry discreetly moves his hand across and gives my thigh an encouraging squeeze, all of which seems to go unnoticed by Anne as I lift the food to my lips and take a bite as she resumes our chat. 

"Oh so Stretford, not far from us then. Did you grow up there?" 

"Yeah, yeah, Mum didn't want us to move far from Dad after they split up, good job really." 

Anne looks puzzled. 

"She died a couple of years ago," I explain and her face falls, which I'm quick to try and fix to avoid any awkwardness.