Yes Chef, No Chef

chapter Twenty One



Katie half croaked and sobbed the words to their song by Dido. The tears were rolling down her face as she sniffed back mucous running from her nose, and huddled further down into the settee. Sarah had rung while she’d been putting the last of the bread into the freezer but guiltily she’d listened to her leaving a message with an invitation to a new cocktail bar. She couldn't speak to anyone because her brain was in such turmoil - the devastating confusion Tim had left behind was mind blowing.

Should she ring or email him? But say what? Sorry for upsetting you about the blonde because really it’s none of my business anymore. But it was her business, wasn’t it? Surely if a guy has his hands inside your shirt you're allowed to enquire about his situation. Earlier, she’d opened a packet of crisps but found them impossible to eat because they stuck in the back of her dry throat, and now she was heading towards the bottom of her second large glass of Chardonnay. Unlike the food the wine seemed to be sliding down her throat far too easily.

Unanswered questions tumbled around her mind at a rate of knots as she stared at the open bag of crisps on the coffee table. He could have re-directed her post as he had been doing since she left but instead he chose to bring it. Why had he come? And, if the blonde was just a one night stand why did he go crazy when she tackled him about her. Rebelliously she took a crisp out of the packet and snapped it in half - it was blatantly obvious by his actions kneading the bread that he still fancied her, and after all, he was the one who had started it. So, if he was having a serious relationship with the blonde he certainly wouldn't have behaved like he did. Tim was many things, she reasoned, but he was always loyal and steadfast to the people he cared about. She supposed she could sit here all night trying to second guess his state of mind; but did he really want to be with her again? Was delivering the post just an excuse to open contact between them and had he really been missing her but was too proud to admit it?

The telephone rang again and she screened the call getting ready to snatch the receiver up if it was him. But it was Lisa, and feeling crap once more she let her leave a message. She'd call them both tomorrow and do something nice for them to salve her conscience, but for now she just wanted to be on her own to think things through.

Swiping a tissue out of the box she blew her nose and remembered the intimate feel of his hands on her breasts and the way he'd breathed his desire into her ear making her feel faint with longing for him. ‘Oh Christ, he had looked so sexy!’ she wailed aloud. It had been fantastic to be with him again and she hadn’t realised just how much she’d missed him until she’d actually felt his hands on her again. So much for her determined new resolve she moaned miserably, it had been shattered the minute she’d looked into his eyes.

And, she sobbed, on what planet had she been living for the last two months that she'd been able to move forward with her life when he wasn't in it? She decided that if a shrink was listening to her they’d tell her she'd been in denial and had let the horrible latter weeks of their relationship overshadow the previous months of happiness. Maybe she’d been blotting out her true feelings and was now grieving like she should have done when it first happened? The flood gates opened with big, hot tears running down her cheeks. She simply couldn’t bear the thought that she’d lost him for ever - he’d been her everything and up until the last few weeks or so it had been the happiest time of her life.

She thought back to when they’d first met and how she’d told her mum, “I love every minute I’m with him and then when he leaves I start tingling with excitement thinking of the next time I’ll see him.”

Her mum had mused. “Well, Katie, believe it or not, I used to feel exactly the same with your father.”

Katie had laughed knowing she’d finally crossed the imaginary line between being single and part of a couple.

She’d felt so important having someone in their bed waiting to put his arms around her and had tried to explain to Lisa and Sarah how the passion between them hadn’t been gradual - she’d been wildly in love with him from the first week. She remembered the things they'd done for each other in bed that had made her head spin and how everyone, especially her mum, had commented upon the boost to her confidence. She’d known in herself it had been staggering.

The CD finished and she removed it remembering how they’d first smooched to the song at a club and the next day he’d bought the CD for her. That day had also been the first time he’d said the three magic words, I love you. When they’d first moved in together she’d loved his genuine open personality, his consideration for everyone, his loyal decent values and how she’d always felt she could trust him completely. Was it possible that their last few awful weeks together had erased his good qualities from her mind? Deciding she’d definitely been guilty of this she knew for certain that deep down in her heart she was still in love with him. Oh God, she cried, she wanted him back so much it hurt and ached in places she didn’t know existed, and how on earth was she going to find the strength to carry on without him?

Sitting upright on the settee she didn’t bother to wipe the tears away she let them drip off the end of her nose and decided that any other man she might meet would always come second best to him. Wrapping both her arms around herself she moaned as though she was in physical pain, rocking herself backwards and forwards. How could she have just walked away from him without trying again to put things right between them? And what did she have left in life now he was gone? When she tried to imagine the years ahead her mind was in a blind panic - it all looked very black and scary. Christ, she was being so pathetic and shameful as it was, she knew if he turned up at the door now she’d crawl along the floor and beg to be given another chance.

The tinkle of an incoming email on her mobile made her sit up and grab it from the coffee table - was it him? Was he going to try and explain what had happened? But her insides plummeted when she saw it wasn't his email address. It was an invitation to accept a contact from an old friend on facebook, and she gaped at the name, Phil Jenkins. It had to be about ten years since she’d heard from him or the crowd at university and she let her mind drift over the memories of their antics in the halls of residence, and then realised those were the times before she’d even met Tim.

She picked the bottle up to pour another glass of wine but something inside her snapped, and she put it back down with a thud. Wiping her wet face she began to wonder how one person could have such a massive impact on her life. For years she hadn’t known he existed and then once they’d met, that was it, her whole life had changed, and now here she was not being able to imagine life without him.

She banged her fist down onto the bag of crisps in temper and then began to pace around the room getting into a stride. Yet, she had lived without him – she’d worked hard, played squash, had girlie holidays and flings with other men. She’d never seen him then, nor heard his voice, nor smelled or touched him, but once they were together then the life she had loved, had enjoyed and thought was fulfilling, suddenly wasn’t good enough anymore. And of course, she had been coping on her own for the last two months, although she realised now she'd been in denial, but nevertheless she’d survived, hadn't she?

Meandering into the kitchen she looked out of the window. ‘Damn him!’ she cried opening the fridge door and looking for something to eat. Spotting a big piece of cheddar cheese she immediately felt her spirits lift with a memory from the days before she had met him. She was galvanised into action and strode purposely into the bathroom, stood under a hot shower, scrubbed her hair with shampoo, and dug out her old tracksuit. She would build her business up, she determined, and would take great delight in the things she’d always done before meeting him - starting with toasted cheese.

Humming softly she grated the cheese into a bowl and mixed it with a huge dollop of mayonnaise - the fresh dairy smell filled her nostrils while she remembered how she used to call this her blues-chasing supper. Her stomach grumbled now with hunger and she scolded herself for the earlier pathetic behaviour. She turned the grill onto medium and lightly toasted both sides of the bread and then heaped the cheese mixture onto each piece spreading it gently with a knife before re-placing them under a low heat.

Peeping under the grill she saw the two pieces of bread with mounds of cheese gently bubbling and melting, and her mouth watered at the sight of it. She brewed a large pot of tea, set her old cup and saucer for one onto a tray, and just as there was a few light brown spots on the top of the cheese she lifted them out onto a plate.

Sitting back on the settee with the tray on her knee, she poured the tea, flicked the TV on and took her first bite of the toasted cheese. The toasted edge of the bread was crunchy and the mix was hot - it was so cheesy it made her lips tingle with pleasure. She swallowed it down quickly and took another bite, but this time the cheese tangled into a long string stretching from the toast to her mouth. And smiling to herself she helped it into her mouth with a finger, which of course meant she then had to lick the oily traces from her fingers. Wow! That tastes soooooo good, she thought, sinking comfortably back into the settee and tucking her legs underneath her bottom.

Her old tracksuit felt familiar, warm and cosy while she mentally made a plan of action for the next day starting with calls to Sarah and Lisa. And, maybe she'd get in touch with Phil? After all, Tim certainly wasn't living a life of celibacy so neither, she decided, would she.