Martha Fletcher has only ever had one job- Executive Assistant to Sam Courtenay.
She'll schedule his diary, pick up his dry cleaning, usher girls out of his apartment first thing in the morning... nothing was out of bounds until one night, that blur...
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When Saturday night came around, all I wanted to do was go over to Martha's house, binge watch The Crown and snuggle up on the couch. I bought a bottle of red wine on the way, remembering Martha's favourite as I schlepped the aisles of Tesco, and stopped off to buy a bouquet of flowers because Martha Fletcher is the type of woman that deserves flowers every day and not just on special occasions.
It was all in vain, however, when, after I rung the buzzer, Keira Delaney greeted me on the other side of the door with a long drawn out, "Sam!" spoken in her thick Dublin accent. "You're just in time."
I arched an eyebrow at her. "Oh, are you leaving?" I asked, hopeful that she would reply that, yes, she was just about to leave so that Martha and I could have alone time.
"Shit out of luck on that front," Keira roared with laughter. Leaving the door sway open, she disappeared into the house, presumably going up to the main living area of Martha's mews house. As I followed her up, I heard Keira address someone. "Sam is here and he doesn't look happy that there are some extra guests. Guess foursomes aren't on his Bucket List."
Two distinctly different laughs bellowed out, one male, the other definitely Martha. Reaching the top of the stairs, I see Martha in the kitchen area, cooking up a storm as Keira's boyfriend, Logan Leahy, gives her a helping hand. I place the wine and flowers on the seat of one of the breakfast bar chairs before Martha sees them. When he notices me, Logan comes over and extends his hand to me to shake. It was very formal but I couldn't exactly say that he and I are friends; being about seven years younger than me, Logan and I had very little in common but we were cordial enough, which was more than could be said of how Keira and I were together. Honestly, the girl drives me round the bend with the way she has absolutely no filter between her head and her mouth.
"She was joking about the foursome," Martha tells me, her pretty blue eyes disappearing as she gave an overly dramatic eye roll. When Keira laughs manically, Martha shoots both Logan and I a worried look. "At least, I hope she was joking because it isn't even on my Bucket List and that thing reads like a One Hundred and One Things Not to Do in Life. Logan, thanks for the help but I think Sam and I can handle the cooking from here on out. Take Keira into the living room and make sure she doesn't touch anything valuable."
Doing as he's told, Logan ushers Keira over to the plush sofa and pushes her down until she's sat and engrossed in the latest episode of The Voice UK. With her guests out of the way, Martha approaches me and leans up to give me a kiss. It always made me laugh how she would tip-toe like that seeing as she's only a few inches shorter than me but when I'm bestowed with a warm peck on the lips that linger there for long enough to make me miss her touch, it suddenly becomes less funny and more endearing.
Silently, I remove my jacket and throw it aside, watching as it lands on one of the breakfast bar chairs. Without needing to be told what to do, I go into chef mode, remembering everything that Charlotte Delaney taught me when I briefly lived with her last year. Ok, it may be a few months longer than was truly necessary but I learnt a great deal living with my best friend, not least that I was quite adept in the kitchen so long as I didn't burn anything, including the kitchen itself. I must say, amongst thousands of cooking disasters, I managed to make quite a few successful dishes. That said, I kept an eye out for where the fire extinguisher and fire blanket were and made sure I was within grabbing distance of both items.
