Good English Tea

Chapter One

"You need to find a job, Jasmine." My brother said for the umpteenth time as he, his wife Lola, and I sat down for breakfast.

"Dan I-" I began, but he rudely interrupted me.

"No, Jasmine...I'm serious." He said softly. . I know he was trying to be kind, so why was his tone of voice irritating me?

He was also using my full name, which he always does when he's about to began one of his speeches... I knew what was coming next. I laid down my weapons, or rather my knife and fork, readying myself for his spiel.

"As much as we love having you here, and we are always here for you no matter what..." He reached across the mahogany table to grasp Lola's hand before continuing. "But you cant stay here forever. You need to make your own life Jasmine. Find your own job, own house, own friends. Discover yourself!"

Lola tried to give me a kind smile but it just made me feel worse. "We just want you to be happy sweetie."

I gave them both a small smile in return, but said nothing in reply. I knew what they said was right, they had a point... I am 21 years old. I do need to make my own life. I want my own life! But it wasn't that simple. To think of the amount of times I'd applied and hunted for jobs in the last 6 months was enough to make me feel like giving up forever.

We ate breakfast in awkward silence. In the large open breakfast room that had floor to ceiling windows that overlooked the gardens, even the silence seemed to echo, bouncing off the pearly white walls before coming back to slap us in the face.

I scraped the last remnants of pancake from their Cath Kidston plates, staring at the light pink and blue polka dots on them. Out of the corner of my eye I saw my brother and Lola exchange a sheepish look across the table. I knew what that meant, they had visitors coming.

My brother works for a fine wine company. He's rich, he's got connections, has friends in lots of high places, attends regular dinner parties, etc. and so when potential clients or their posh friends come round for a visit, this means they have to bundle me out of the house like a bag.of old rubbish. Me, the embarrassingly unsuccessful sister. At least, they always try and do it in the least obvious way.

"So Jas..." Dan tried to feign casualness. "What are your plans for to-"

I pushed my chair out abruptly, and possibly a little bit too aggressively, interrupting him before he could continue.

"I'm going out." I informed them both shortly, before standing up and leaving the room. I made my way to the front hall, winding my way through all the many rooms, so we'll furnished with expensive items. In the hallway that was about the size of the average persons living room, I pulled on my brown leather boots over my jeans.

Hearing the sound of Lola's high-heeled footsteps clacking across the tiled floors towards me, I quickly flew out of the front door and closed it behind me. As nice as Lola can be, I was not in the mood for a heart-to-heart with my brothers wife.

It was cold outside, and I regretted not picking up a coat, but there was no way I was going back. So I pulled my mustard coloured cardigan closer, folded my arms, and walked.

~

It didn't take long for me to make my way into town and I was soon walking down the high street. It was windier outside than I had expected and my chocolate-brown curly hair was whipping about my head like a rogue helicopter.

I stared longingly into the extravagant window displays of Oasis and Zara. They weren't the most expensive shops on the high street but I couldn't afford to even consider buying anything from them, never mind the higher priced shops. Lola often offered to buy me new outfits, but I always refused. If I was going to spend money on anything, it was going to be my money that I spent. Not someone else's.

So I ended up wearing Lola's hand-me-downs, and although that sounds drab, of you saw Lola's wardrobe you would see that even her hand-me-downs look like they've just come out of the pages of Vogue.

I always chose the less extravagant items of clothing. A good pair of jeans, basic tops, coloured cardigans. I often discovered beautiful dresses in her cast off wardrobes. But what did I want with a dress when I didn't have anywhere to wear it to.

By now I had reached the town centre, with the massive fountain carved into a statue of a unicorn. Whoever designed it had poor taste. And should probably retire from their career in architecture to something away from the public eye, like knitting. Although I would feel sorry for whoever ended up on the receiving end of one of their woollen creations...

There wasn't the usual hustle around the town centre, probably due to the undesirable weather, but there was a couple of shoppers and a few workers hurrying about.

The wind began to finally calm itself and as I stood by the fountain, hair beginning to tame, I breathed a sigh of relief. The sun tried to peek round one of the grey clouds.

Maybe it would be a pleasant day after all.

But no sooner had I sat down on one of the oak benches that lined the circumference of the fountain than did the sky open up with a torrent of freezing rain.

I let out another sigh, but this time one of utter disbelief. Could my day get any worse?

I felt tears welling up in my eyes, and I tried to hold them back. I was being ridiculous. What was I crying about? Yes I had no job. Yes I was living with my sibling. Yes I didn't even have enough cash to buy even a pair of socks from Topshop. But it wasn't that bad... Was it?

I hadn't always been this way. Jobless. Lifeless. I used to have a job, and a pretty good one at that. It wasn't my fault that it went pear-shaped. Why did it have to go pear-shaped....

I looked up to see a young man, only a little older than me, walking by. Grey suit and waistcoat, high collared brown coat. He looked successful. I bet he had a job, a fancy one. He was probably a manager of somewhere or other. Living his own life. Not like me.

These self loathing thoughts crept into my mind and occupied it as I watched him walking by.

Then, as just one tear managed to fight back and escape from my eye, rolling defiantly down my left cheek, he looked across at me, and his deep green eyes met mine.