Yes Chef, No Chef

chapter Eighteen



Perching on a high red stool at her new kitchen island, Katie yawned, and gulped down the dregs of her coffee while flipping her new business card between her fingers. The card was black and silver and she admired the printer’s high-class lettering work on the name, Outside Catering - Culinary Services for the Discernible Male.

She was pleased it looked so elegant and high-brow because her mum’s comments still niggled in the pit of her stomach.

“You sound like a hooker offering services to men!” Her mum had cried in horror when Katie told her the name of the business and she’d had to take a deep breath and count to ten before reassuring her.

Michael had been there too and had roared with laughter then teased her, “And what type of extra services will you be providing them with? Hey, maybe you could have a picture of a lap pole on the card?”

She’d snapped back at him. “Yeah yeah, you’ll soon be eating your words when I’m rolling in it and making a mint!”

Michael always wound her up and she could never figure out why. He was sixteen months older than her, was loud, boisterous, and had an ego the size of an elephant. And for as long as she could remember they’d grated off each other, arguing at every possible opportunity - if she said white he would say black and vice-versa. Maybe it was because he was the total opposite to her father whom she’d idolised whereas her oldest brother by four years, Jack, was quiet and steady, and just like her dad - she never seemed to have a cross word with him.

Her mobile vibrated on the granite work top.

"Hi, Terry," she said. "Hope you’re looking forward to tonight?"

He cleared his throat a little. "Y…yes, of course," he stumbled. "But I was just worrying again about the menu and hoping I’ve got everything sorted properly. I really want to make this a special night for me and Jessica. Sort of a night to remember, if you know what I mean?"

Katie could hear the stress in his voice and she knew it was her job as the caterer to take the worry out of the occasion. This was one of the main reasons he was paying her. And, knowing Terry being indecisive would only make him worse.

"I do know, Terry," she reassured him confidently. "And stop worrying about the menu. You already know she loves beef and you both love red wine, so Beef Bourguignon - well, it’s the perfect choice."

"Hmm," he pondered.

“I have it already cooked and if I say so myself, it’s fabulous…”

“You’ve cooked it now?” he asked nervously, “I mean, shouldn’t it be fresh?”

Smiling she explained, “No, Terry. It’s actually better cooked the day before. You see, it’s a dish that only gains in flavour when it’s reheated.”

“Oh right,” he answered sheepishly. “And Katie, can I ask just one more question. Do you think red roses would be all right to give Jessica? Or are they not trendy anymore? Maybe I should try white lilies?"

This really wasn’t her territory but she did want the night to be successful especially because it was her first dinner booking. "If it was me, roses would win hands down every time," she said, and they made arrangements for her to be at his apartment at six o’clock.

Walking over to the French windows she held her face up to the early March sun which streamed through the glass and reassured herself by running through a check list. No matter how much Michael tormented her there was nothing cheap or tacky about the name of the business or the card, and there was a definite gap in the market with money to be made. And, apart from Terry’s job, she had secured another booking to assemble a picnic hamper for Michael’s friend who was trying to entice his ex-wife back.

She looked down her to-do list and crossed ‘contact and confirm with Terry’ off in red pen and then started to add more ingredients to the picnic shopping list. The coffee she’d made was cold now and she pulled a face after swallowing a mouthful but decided she definitely felt much brighter now the hangover effects from the previous night’s alcohol were lifting.

She’d spent the evening making the beef bourguignon but had ranted and raved her way through the recipe from the very beginning. She’d been poised with her sharpened knife above the freshly peeled onion when she’d thought of how Tim would have kissed the blonde and felt enraged. She knew exactly how he’d have used his tongue in the blonde’s mouth because it was how he used to kiss her and she’d felt a searing stab of jealousy. She’d sliced the whole onion in half and turned one half to slice swiftly and cleanly but her eyes had watered so much with aroma and essence that by the time she’d sliced in the opposite direction the tears had been cursing down her cheeks. They’d been tears of hurt, rejection, and jealousy mixed with temper and she’d had to stop and wipe her eyes with a T-towel. Come on, she’d chastised herself, get a grip and don’t let the bastard get to you like this, but the tears had continued until her second glass of wine when she’d finally managed to feel angry which overrode the hurt. And then after finishing the bottle she’d crashed out in bed and let blessed oblivion take over.

The Brian Adams song Summer of 69 suddenly blasted out from the radio and she turned the volume up; it was one of her favourite rock tracks and she sang out loud dancing around the island and emptying a packet of Bellini’s into an empty plastic container.

She packed all the items carefully in the order she would be serving the starter, main course, and dessert into the containers, boxes, and chill bags making doubly sure she had everything she needed plus emergency extras. Her stomach churned excitedly while she ran through it all in her mind but then clicked her tongue in annoyance when she was disturbed by knocking on the front door.

Opening the door she found Sarah and Lisa. Sarah wore a worried expression on her face while Lisa blundered her way through an excuse about wanting to see her new kitchen. Katie knew this had to be a trumped up reason because Lisa was as interested in kitchens and cooking food as she was in scuba-diving. But, she played along with the ruse, showed them around the kitchen over a coffee, and for what seemed like the hundredth time she reassured them she was fine about Tim, and then, giggling, told them how she’d eased herself into bed with a bottle of red wine.

Trusting and naïve Sarah accepted her reassurances without hesitation, but Lisa gave her a ‘hmm’ retort, raised an eyebrow, and looked questioningly at her.

When Sarah went to the toilet, Lisa pounced, “Katie, I know how much you loved Tim and I can’t believe you could hear news about him kissing a blonde and not be upset about it?”

“Of course, I couldn’t,” she whispered. “But I don’t want Sarah to feel awful about telling me.”

Lisa shook her head. “Always thinking about everyone else but yourself,” she said wistfully. “God, I wish I could be more like you.”

Katie twisted uncomfortably on the stool and because she knew she was going to need Lisa’s help, she said, “You would have done exactly the same thing for Sarah, I know you would. And yes, although I’m upset I’m more curious than anything else.”

Anxiously she wrung her hands together and pushed on. “I mean, who is she? And, how long has he been seeing her? And maybe he was shagging her when he was with me?”

Squeezing Katie’s shoulder reassuringly, Lisa exclaimed, “Hey, now just stop it. Don’t do this to yourself – he’s simply not worth it!”

“I need to know, Lisa,” she whispered, and then hearing Sarah’s footsteps on the wood floor in the hall they changed the subject.

With best wishes for a successful first booking the girls left shortly before four o’clock and after showering and getting changed she loaded the car to drive over to Terry’s apartment. He lived nearly at the top of Richmond Hill and when she pulled up outside his upper floor apartment she whistled quietly at the size and grandeur. This must have cost mega bucks, she decided, pressing the intercom on the security system and was buzzed through. She was busy unloading her bags and chill box into the lift when Terry appeared breathless from running down two flights of stairs and helped her carry everything into the lobby of his apartment.

When she’d first started at her old job Terry had been known amongst all the women in the office as the company’s last good looking, eligible bachelor and Frances, at the time had had a bit of a crush on him. But now she supposed at the age of nearly forty he was only eligible for a certain age group of women and after tonight’s proposal to Jessica he’d have to relinquish the title altogether.

"Wow!" she exclaimed looking around the open plan lounge and dining room area, "This is amazing."

He carried on down the hall. "Thanks, Katie. The kitchen is down here," he called over his shoulder while she followed him.

When he turned at the door and took the two bags out of her hands he smiled at her for the first time. His blonde hair was still damp from a recent shower and because she’d never seen him dressed in casual jeans and T-shirt before, she decided he definitely looked much younger than in his office suit.

She followed him into a gleaming state of the art kitchen and stood open-mouthed. "Oh my God. I’ve just had my kitchen done but it’s nothing as flash as this," she said looking around the room. "It’s like a professional kitchen!"

She turned to look at the Gaggenau modular cook top system which was built into a complete wall of glimmering, high quality stainless steel with a fridge, ovens, and a freezer which had external ice and water dispensers. And then, turning to look behind her, she smiled with pleasure because the whole of the opposite wall had been replaced by glass so she could see the outdoor space which was lit with soft lights.

"Well, you shouldn’t want for anything in here, it’s been equipped with everything a chef could possibly need.”

"And some, it’s to-die-for…"

He grinned. "Actually, my only area of expertise is this little beauty here," he said stroking the top of the microwave.

Giggling she shook her head in mock disapproval. "You mean you don’t cook in a fabulous place like this?" she asked. "Now, my Tim would have called that a criminal waste..." her voice trailed off sadly and he looked uncomfortably down at his shoes.

"I heard that you’d split up," he muttered. "Sorry, but for what its worth I thought you made a great couple."

She could feel her face blushing but managed to veer him off the subject quite smoothly. "Yes, it was a shame," she replied in a professional manner. "Now; will you be eating outside or in the dining room?"

"Definitely the dining room," he declared cheerfully. "I know the lights are pretty and romantic but it would be just my luck for my hay fever to kick in as I get to the all-important question."

Slipping a long white apron over her jeans and T-shirt she strode back through to the dining room and suggested a few improvements which would change the ambience of the room with candles, lighting, and the position of the chairs. When she’d finished he agreed it certainly created a more romantic feel and he busied himself with bottles of Beaujolais. They chatted amicably and she found out that Jessica didn’t know anything about the engagement – it was going to be a complete surprise.

Hmm, she pondered, preparing the boiled potatoes and buttered peas, she wasn’t sure if she’d like her engagement to take place with a stranger hovering over them and serving a meal. And just as she was thinking of a subtle way to say this to Terry he appeared at the doorway and asked if she would mind waiting in the kitchen until he told her they were ready to eat. She agreed and because the first course was smoked salmon with Bellini’s she knew she could be doing the finishing touches to the bourguignon while they were enjoying their starters. Jessica arrived on time and Terry took her straight through to the lounge.

Katie sat on a stool in the kitchen waiting for the sign to bring out the starters and looked at a small pile of old post lying on the bench. A Christmas card was peeking out from the pile and she let her mind wander back to the year before last when things between her and Tim had been fantastic. On Christmas morning, when she’d opened her gift from him there’d been a small part of her had wished the little green jeweller’s box, which held gold ear rings, would have contained an engagement ring. But then afterwards when she’d really thought it through she’d realised Tim wasn’t the type of guy to do surprises. If he’d wanted to get engaged he would have talked to her first and then arranged a special treat.

She leaned forward on the kitchen bench and cupped her chin in her hands - if things hadn’t gone tragically wrong they might have talked about marriage one day and her mum would have had the big white wedding she still longed to organise. Unlike Sarah though, Katie had never harboured little girl dreams of the dress, the cake, the bridesmaids, and the flowers at the church altar. In fact, being the centre of attention all day with everyone staring at her was something she would feel uncomfortable with but knew she’d have gone along with it, firstly to please her mum, and secondly because Tim was very traditional and would have wanted it all.

Tracing a finger along the smooth curve of the bench she wondered how and why women’s personalities were so different. It wasn’t because she was unromantic but she simply couldn’t get the practical side of her head to understand spending five to six thousand pounds on one day - she’d much rather spend it on travelling or a new car.

Her mobile vibrated in her pocket with a text message which snapped her to attention. It was from Lisa asking how she was doing, and she replied to say she was waiting in the kitchen to serve but it had been over twenty minutes with no sign from them and she was beginning to worry. Lisa replied flippantly suggesting that they could be at each other in the bedroom and how Katie really should find better things to do with her Sunday nights - but when she told Lisa the obscene amount of money he was paying she rapidly changed her mind.

Suddenly Terry popped his head around the door looking flushed and told her they were ready for the starters. Katie carried them through and greeted Jessica who looked equally, if not more flustered than Terry, and she wondered if Lisa was right and they had been in the bedroom. The atmosphere between them appeared light-hearted and intimate and she just had time to get the main course ready when he appeared at the kitchen door with empty plates.

Katie glowed with pride in the dining room when Jessica complimented her upon the starters and smiled in anticipated pleasure while Katie ladled a helping of bourguignon onto her warmed plate.

An aroma of red wine, garlic and beef filled their nostrils and Terry declared that the sight of the large chunks of tender beef, strips of carrot, and quarters of soft mushroom which had simmered slowly for hours in a rich, red wine sauce was awesome.

Terry forked a chunk of the beef into his mouth and she saw his shoulders visibly sink as he chewed and swallowed it. The grin on his face stretched from ear to ear and he groaned ecstatically, “Oh my God, Katie, this is sublime!”

Her heart soared with happiness at his praise. “Bon appetit!” she said, and went back into the kitchen leaving them to enjoy the meal. She breathed a sigh of relief and knowing Terry wouldn’t mind she poured herself a glass of red wine to congratulate herself on a successful first booking. She felt much more relaxed now and flushed with triumph - almost on a happy-high, like a tennis player winning match point, she thought and grinned idiotically.

Suddenly, the loud slam of the front door startled her and she almost dropped the glass. What the hell’s going on, she wondered creeping to the side window which overlooked the street. Under the street light she could see a red faced Jessica climbing into a new cream and black mini, which in turn, sped off down the hill at break neck speed.

All was quiet in the dining room now and Katie floundered, not sure what to do next. Should she go in and make sure he was OK? Or wait in the kitchen until he came to look for her. Obviously, things hadn’t gone according to plan and she must have refused his proposal, but why? Gulping at her wine, she decided to load the dishwasher, give him ten minutes and then go to find him.

Tentatively she crept along the hall and poked her head around the lounge door to no avail - the room was empty. Where on earth was he, she puzzled and then tapped quietly on what she thought might be his bedroom door but with no response. He couldn’t have left because she would have heard the door close so she began to clear the half eaten meal from the plates in the dining room. What a shame all this food was going to waste, and why had he popped the question in the middle of their main course? He should have waited until they’d at least had dessert and then she jumped because he was standing beside her.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to startle you,” he said when she swung around to face him.

He looked terrible and she immediately felt really sorry for him. “Christ, Terry, what happened?” she asked kindly, and then realising it was none of her business told him he didn’t need to answer and that she’d just finish clearing away and get going.

“No, it’s OK,” he said. “Please don’t go yet. Have a glass of wine with me?”

“Well…” she dithered, not wanting to get more involved but feeling wretched for him at the same time.

He swiped a glass from the table and poured wine into it as she protested, “Just a half glass, Terry, I’m driving.”

He swirled his wine around in the glass and said, “I was just building myself up to the question and thought when you’d cleared the dessert plates away I’d ask her, when out of the blue she told me she’s going over to Los Angeles for eight months to work! It’s a promotion and a great opportunity, and apparently, it’s too good to miss.”

“Oh right,” Katie answered sipping her wine. He moved through to the lounge with the bottle in one hand and his glass in the other and she followed. She chose to sit on the settee opposite him but then he got up, crossed the room and plonked himself down next to her. The red wine fumes were overpowering on his breath and his eyes were glassy – she decided he looked very drunk. He poured more wine into his glass but she put her hand over the top of hers preventing him from filling it up and smiled reassuringly at him.

He continued, “So, I blurted out that I was going to ask her to marry me and had an engagement ring ready and asked her why she hadn’t said anything earlier. And she said it only happened two days ago and it wasn’t her fault because she didn’t know anything about getting engaged.”

He was rambling now as if he was turning the argument over in his mind, “And then I accused her of just accepting the job without talking to me first and asked her where that left us? And that’s when she’d slammed out of the room…” he said heaving a deep sigh.

Katie sighed too. “Oh dear. But that doesn’t mean you can’t get engaged,” she said trying to sound comforting. “Can’t you just wait until she gets back?”

“Well, it doesn’t look now as though she wants to,” he whined. “It was as if she couldn’t wait to get away from me and hated the idea of getting engaged. What’s wrong with me, Katie?”

His face got closer and closer to hers and she shrank back from him further and further into the soft plush settee. He stared at her now as though he was seeing her for the first time and gave her a half-cocked drunken grin.

She said, “Now Terry, there’s nothing wrong with you. You’ve probably had a little too much wine and you are…” she didn’t get another word out before he lunged at her and starting kissing her so hard that she struggled to breathe. His mouth stank of red wine and she tried to pull away but his lips seemed to have a suction quality all of their own, so with both her hands on his thick set chest she pushed as hard as she could to get him off her. The feeling of pressure on his chest must have brought him to his senses and he released his lips from her mouth.

She gasped for breath and jumped up off the settee. “Got to go,” she rasped, “I have to get home.”

Her heart was pounding fit to burst out of her chest and her mouth was dry with fear as she fled down the hall to the kitchen.

He followed slowly, apologising, and desperately trying to make amends. “God, Katie, I’m really sorry. I don’t know what came over me.”

She was pulling on her jacket and grabbing all her bags together while unsteadily he slouched against the kitchen door. “Look, let me help you,” he tried again.

“N…no, I’m fine,” she almost squeaked with hysteria. “I can manage.”

Instead of waiting for the lift she took the stairs two at a time and ran out onto the pavement gasping for breath in the cold night air.