movie, Cry Freedom , and whenever that came around on cable it made all the other kids laugh.’ She set off down the steps. ‘I’m a little sensitive because it was the name that my mother gave to me then took her own freedom by leaving me. Ironic, huh? Dad hated it and it was him who picked Honor. He says that the names they chose indicated what each of them valued most. He and Grandma called me Honor and the Freedom part became just an irritating entry on my birth certificate.’
‘And your passports,’ he included, helpfully.
She frowned. ‘I don’t use the name at all . I just never got around to changing it legally.’
He fell into step beside her. ‘But Freedom’s a fantastic name. Freedom Lefevre. You sound like a porn star.’
She flicked him a glance. ‘Gee, that changes everything.’
He laughed. ‘OK, that didn’t come out right. I meant to say that Freedom Lefevre sounds very hot.’
She breathed out, slowly. ‘I’d still appreciate it if you’d just forget it. I’m already the odd one out around here, and I want to integrate, rather than to stand out with a stupid hippy name.’
‘OK.’ He shrugged.
‘And I haven’t used Lefevre since I got married – I’m Honor Sontag. OK?’
‘OK,’ he said, again, without inflection.
They turned the corner into The Butts and he halted at the end of the block. ‘This is where I peel off.’ He indicated a set of stairs like a fire escape up the side of a building.
She looked up at the door above, in the wall. ‘Is this your place? It must be kind of fun to live over a shop.’
‘I like it.’
Saying her goodbyes, she turned towards the Eastingdean Teapot but she knew her face was burning and wished he hadn’t brought all the Freedom stuff to the surface. It had made her feel stirred up about her mom. Churning. Irritated. Angry.
How had she forgotten about Freedom being on her passport? She definitely wanted to be known as Honor. She pushed the passports right to the bottom of her bag.
‘Hell oo ,’ sang Sophie, from the white-tiled kitchen, as Honor pushed through the dark green door of the tearoom. ‘Here’s our latest helper.’
‘Hi,’ answered Honor, shortly, glad to have the opportunity to feel irritated with Sophie instead of with her mother.
Robina called from the other side of the kitchen’s central island. ‘I’m just going to run up to the butcher’s for some fresh sausage meat for the sausage rolls. Back in five minutes.’
Sophie’s pink shiny face grew pinker. It couldn’t get any shinier. Her default expression was a grin and she sprinkled her conversation with giggles. ‘I’ll look after you, Honor. Come through. We’ve just got lots of lovely local ladies in for their elevenses, at the moment, and we won’t get busy for another half hour. I’ve got you an apron ready and, look, all the cleaning things are over here – and gloves because some of these cleaners would strip your skin. Robina’s actually very save-the-planet but the kitchen has to be cleaned properly.’ She giggled. ‘Anyway, the job’s easy, especially if you’ve worked as a waitress already. Menus are on the table and when the customers look ready, you take a pad and a pen and you go and ask them what they want – and then you come back to the counter and tell us!’ She gave a tiny snort, like a giggly piglet.
Honor smiled, cautiously. ‘What are “elevenses”?’
Another giggle. ‘Morning snack. Second breakfast. Whatever you want it to be. Anyway,’ said Sophie, suddenly becoming brisk, ‘Kirsty says you have to fill out a form.’ She led Honor out of the kitchen and into an office the size of a cupboard and selected a tatty blue folder from a pile, sorting through until she located a particular form. ‘This is for people who haven’t got a P45, I think.’ She paused, doubtfully, form extended. ‘I’ve never employed a foreigner before. Kirsty usually does all the admin stuff – she’s brilliant at
‘And your passports,’ he included, helpfully.
She frowned. ‘I don’t use the name at all . I just never got around to changing it legally.’
He fell into step beside her. ‘But Freedom’s a fantastic name. Freedom Lefevre. You sound like a porn star.’
She flicked him a glance. ‘Gee, that changes everything.’
He laughed. ‘OK, that didn’t come out right. I meant to say that Freedom Lefevre sounds very hot.’
She breathed out, slowly. ‘I’d still appreciate it if you’d just forget it. I’m already the odd one out around here, and I want to integrate, rather than to stand out with a stupid hippy name.’
‘OK.’ He shrugged.
‘And I haven’t used Lefevre since I got married – I’m Honor Sontag. OK?’
‘OK,’ he said, again, without inflection.
They turned the corner into The Butts and he halted at the end of the block. ‘This is where I peel off.’ He indicated a set of stairs like a fire escape up the side of a building.
She looked up at the door above, in the wall. ‘Is this your place? It must be kind of fun to live over a shop.’
‘I like it.’
Saying her goodbyes, she turned towards the Eastingdean Teapot but she knew her face was burning and wished he hadn’t brought all the Freedom stuff to the surface. It had made her feel stirred up about her mom. Churning. Irritated. Angry.
How had she forgotten about Freedom being on her passport? She definitely wanted to be known as Honor. She pushed the passports right to the bottom of her bag.
‘Hell oo ,’ sang Sophie, from the white-tiled kitchen, as Honor pushed through the dark green door of the tearoom. ‘Here’s our latest helper.’
‘Hi,’ answered Honor, shortly, glad to have the opportunity to feel irritated with Sophie instead of with her mother.
Robina called from the other side of the kitchen’s central island. ‘I’m just going to run up to the butcher’s for some fresh sausage meat for the sausage rolls. Back in five minutes.’
Sophie’s pink shiny face grew pinker. It couldn’t get any shinier. Her default expression was a grin and she sprinkled her conversation with giggles. ‘I’ll look after you, Honor. Come through. We’ve just got lots of lovely local ladies in for their elevenses, at the moment, and we won’t get busy for another half hour. I’ve got you an apron ready and, look, all the cleaning things are over here – and gloves because some of these cleaners would strip your skin. Robina’s actually very save-the-planet but the kitchen has to be cleaned properly.’ She giggled. ‘Anyway, the job’s easy, especially if you’ve worked as a waitress already. Menus are on the table and when the customers look ready, you take a pad and a pen and you go and ask them what they want – and then you come back to the counter and tell us!’ She gave a tiny snort, like a giggly piglet.
Honor smiled, cautiously. ‘What are “elevenses”?’
Another giggle. ‘Morning snack. Second breakfast. Whatever you want it to be. Anyway,’ said Sophie, suddenly becoming brisk, ‘Kirsty says you have to fill out a form.’ She led Honor out of the kitchen and into an office the size of a cupboard and selected a tatty blue folder from a pile, sorting through until she located a particular form. ‘This is for people who haven’t got a P45, I think.’ She paused, doubtfully, form extended. ‘I’ve never employed a foreigner before. Kirsty usually does all the admin stuff – she’s brilliant at
Similar Books
