Read In the Kitchen for Free Online Page B

seemed unreal. This phoney life that he lived when normal people were in bed.
    'Hey,' said Charlie, 'when are you going to take me Up North, anyway?'
    He thought of Nana in her nightdress, the last time he visited, scuttling across the lounge with the drinks trolley that she used as support in preference to sticks or the walking frame. 'Now,' she said when she had kissed him and caught her breath. 'I was watching this chef on the telly, he was rubbish. Eee, I said to your father, our Gabe wants to look sharp. There's younger fellas now, not as good as him, who's jumping ahead and getting on the telly before he's had a go himself.' Her cheek against his felt powdery, as if she might crumble away to a heap of dust. 'Nana,' he said, 'you don't just get to "have a go". It's not about taking turns.' She settled into the wingback chair and put her furry bootees up on the footstool. 'I've got an irregular heartbeat, Gabriel. Did your father tell you? No. They suspect a touch of gout too. But I've got all my faculties, sunshine. I'll thank you to remember that next time you open your mouth.' She closed her eyes and grunted and it was a while before Gabe realized that she had nodded off.
    'Nana'd like you,' Gabe told Charl ie. 'She'd think you should be on the telly as well.'
    'That doesn't actually sound like a plan. That sounds, in fact, like you think she would like me if only she met me but she's not going to so she won't.'
    'What?'
    Charlie sighed. 'What's wrong with me, Gabriel, huh?'
    'Nothing,' said Gabe automatically. 'You're great.'
    'I'm a cracker, I really am.' She slid off the stool and adjusted her dress. A sequin came away in her hand and she flicked it at his chest. He put a hand on her hip and she wriggled away. 'Can't keep the fans waiting.'
    The pianist had taken up residence but was finishing his cigarette.
    'My place or yours tonight?' said Gabe. He yawned and checked his watch.
    'I'm tired as well, lover boy. I want my own bed tonight and I want to sleep alone.'
    In the fridge there were three tomatoes, a slab of chocolate (80 per cent cocoa solids), an out-of-date bio yoghurt and a piece of Br ie. Gabe ate a couple of the tomatoes and then took a piece of chocolate through to the sitting room.
    The flat was at the top of a converted school building on Kennington Road, not far from the Imperial War Museum. It had long, casement windows and a view over the buses and chimneypots. It was one of only ten flats and when Gabe first moved in he sometimes wondered how many schoolchildren had fitted into this space, which now was his alone.
    The sitting room had new oak floorboards and recessed lighting. The estate agent who showed him round described it as being 'partfurnished' but it was furnished enough for Gabe and he rented it on the spot. There was a long, low sofa, ultra-modern and ultrauncomfortable, upholstered in green with matching scatter cushions that were precisely as hard as they looked. The coffee table was an oversized sugar cube. A black leather and chrome Le Corbusier chaise longue stretched out next to the windows. Black shelving ran the length of one wall. Gabe had added books and a rug to the furnishings. The pictures that he had meant to hang were stacked against the shelves.
    He sat on the sofa looking at the chaise longue, which was the only comfortable place to sit. The couple who lived across the hallway arrived home. They always stood outside their front door making a song and dance about keys. They were young and often stayed out late. She left early in the mornings, shouting goodbyes and last-minute instructions. He listened to Coldplay and Radiohead at top volume, and slammed the door when he went out and took the stairs at a run. They said 'hi' to Gabe whenever they saw him.
    They hadn't got as far as names.
    Gabe ate some chocolate just to give himself the energy to get up and brush his teeth and go to bed.
    It was all right that Charlie wanted to be alone. He wanted to be alone as well.