Yes Chef, No Chef

chapter Three



Tim finished the glass of wine in one long slug and listened to what sounded like Kate opening and closing drawers and the wardrobe door creaking. Christ, she wasn’t packing was she? Was she really going to walk out and leave him? His mind reeled in disbelief as he tried to rationalise in the drunken fog. She was his Kate and she loved him above all others, didn’t she? He heard the front door bang shut and, staggering to the window, he watched her throw the holdall into the back of her car and drive away.

With a shaking hand he spilled some wine from his glass onto the floor and coffee table. Damn, he cursed, and then in between gulps he cried out aloud, ‘She’s actually gone and left me!’ Anxiously, he shook his head in disbelief while the silence of the room seemed to close in around him. Should he go after her in a taxi? But he wasn’t sure who she’d go to? And anyway, he raged, why the hell should he? She was the one who’d walked out and she was the one who obviously didn’t want to be with him anymore. Looking towards the bedroom and the wardrobe door she’d left open he repeated the words again slowly, ‘She. Doesn’t. Want. To. Be. With. Me.’

He felt the old horror of rejection raise its ugly head and memories from the past started to creep around his insides. Get a grip, he thought shuddering with trepidation and reached for the remote to turn up the volume on the TV. He tried to focus on the football but the images on the screen were blurred with alcohol so he laid his head back on the settee and squeezed his eyes tight shut. Someone had actually left him. It was the first time it had happened since he was eighteen - since the brutal rejection by Sally.

Sally had been his first serious girlfriend at university and they’d gone out together for two months when suddenly one night when she was very drunk she’d told him it was over.

“But why?” he begged. He’d been desperate not to lose her.

She’d pulled the sheet back from their naked bodies, pointed and laughed maliciously at him, “It’s that!” she’d cried aloud. “The way your penis is bent at the end. Well, it’s not much of a turn-on, is it?”

She’d thrown her head back and cackled mercilessly at him while he’d stared down at his penis still aroused from their love-making session and felt his face burn hot with embarrassment and shame.

“B…But, you never said anything before…” he’d stammered awkwardly as she’d simply shrugged her shoulders and carried on laughing at him. He’d gathered his clothes quickly from the pokey flat in the halls of residence and fled back to his own room, shaking and crying with humiliation. The next day a visit to the doctor with his best friend, Luke, put his anatomical fears to rest. There was nothing wrong and nothing to inhibit his performance, and he’d left the surgery in a state of relief with the doctors comforting words that all men were different sizes and shapes. Luke had wanted to give Sally a piece of his mind but Tim had stopped him by grunting that he could fight his own battles well enough. Following this episode, his confidence had taken a battering but it was the feeling of humiliation which had lingered for years after Sally’s cruel words. And from then onwards he’d made sure he always finished with girlfriends first, until he’d met Kate of course. His Kate was different to all the rest. He moaned, floating into a drunken stupor and black oblivion.

Monday morning dawned and when he began to focus on where he was and why he was curled up shivering on the settee his memory of the night before crashed back brutally. His tongue was so dry it was stuck to the back of his throat and the pain in his head was thunderous. ‘Christ Almighty,’ he sighed swinging his legs over the edge of the settee. ‘What have I done?’ But when he tried to sit upright his stomach retched and he lay back down again taking deep breaths. ‘She’s gone and I’ve lost her, and it’s my own damn fault,’ he wailed. What the hell had got into him behaving like that? Bloody-hell, he really had to stop drinking so much.

Trying to sit up again he finally managed to stagger through to the kitchen and greedily gulped down a glass of water. He found a bottle of aspirin tablets and threw two into his mouth then refilled the glass from the running cold water tap. Staring at the water swirling its way in circles down the plug-hole he shook his head in disbelief. He still couldn’t believe she’d actually gone and he was standing in the kitchen on his own. Grimacing at the foul taste of the aspirin tablets he knew he’d been well out of order, especially at his parents’ house, but his dad always wound him up and she knew that. Couldn’t she have just left him alone and given him a bit of slack for a few hours? And why oh why did she have to keep banging on about that bloody Savoy party?

Switching the kettle on to make strong coffee he knew if she’d found out the real reason why he hadn’t made it to the party she’d have flipped all the more so was just as pleased he’d kept quiet about the mess he was in. He pushed the plunger in the cafetiére down roughly, remembering the incident at work on Saturday and cringed with embarrassment - how could he have been so stupid to believe in Jim? And why was it all going so horribly wrong? It was his dream for God’s sake and he’d worked his bollocks off to get where he was and she knew that.

Heading towards the shower he stripped off his dirty jeans and jumper and yanked the shower curtain along the rail. ‘And another thing,’ he bristled, ‘wasn’t she supposed to be the one? The one that was in it for keeps? Hadn’t they said that to each other often enough and now at the first sign of trouble and hitting a rough patch, what does she do but walk out?’ Well that’s her decision, he thought truculently and of course any man would be peeved if they’d had their hand knocked away from her breast. And, what was all that about? She’d never done that before. While he stood holding his flushed cheeks up to the streaming hot water he shivered involuntarily when the memory of Sally’s pretty face flashed into the stainless steel shower head. No way, he thought vehemently, there was no way he was going down that road again with any woman and especially not Kate, who was after all, supposed to be the love of his life.

Wrapping a towel around his slim waist and hips he began to feel a little better. He decided to give her a few days to think things through - when she got in touch he’d have no objection to talking to her. But as far as he was concerned she should be the one to make the first move.



Heading back into the kitchen and buttering a slice of toast he sighed remembering how much he’d drunk yesterday. He knew if he didn’t get a handle on it he would end up sitting in one of those AA meetings, chanting out, ‘My name is Tim Fletcher and I’m an alcoholic.’

Shuddering at the thought and crunching into the toast, he left the apartment, deciding to call Luke later and talk to him about it. Luke had moved up to Yorkshire last year with his company and he still missed him. Tim knew Luke’s branch manager’s job was stressful and as he climbed into his car he wondered how he was coping with it all.

Arriving at the restaurant he swung the car into a space outside the back door and switched off the ignition. There were only a few parking spaces in the street overlooked by the back of old terraced houses and he glanced up at the grey dismal sky while locking the car door. There had to be something else he could do to cope with the stress, he thought striding towards the door; maybe drugs or smoking cigarettes, but he’d tried both in the past and hated them.

The noise in the restaurants kitchen seemed ear-splitting when he walked in and just with the simple movement of taking his jacket off the pain throbbed mercilessly in the side of his head. His junior commis chef, Simon, and Jessie, a young kitchen assistant were laughing and shouting at each other while preparing vegetables for the lunch time orders.

“Shit, man, heavy night?” Simon asked. “You look dog-rough.”

He couldn’t help but smile at him and nodded. Simon was tall, stick thin with a mass of ginger curly hair. He had the skinniest legs Tim had ever seen on a man and a face covered in freckles.

“Yeah, more of a whole day and night,” Tim answered morosely heading towards his small office adjoined to the kitchen.

“Need a coffee?” Jessie called, and thanking her over his shoulder he went into the office and booted up the lap top.

There were so many emails left unanswered from Saturday he didn’t know where to start. Sighing heavily he stared at the photograph on his desk of him and Kate and irrationally scowled at her. ‘You ran out on me just when I needed you most,’ he mumbled. Was that a line from a song he wondered as Jessie appeared in the doorway with a mug of coffee.

“Hey, do you want some paracetamol to go with this?” she asked beaming at him with her fresh young face. Without a scrap of make-up and her long black hair pulled back from her face into a ponytail she looked about sixteen although she was twenty-two.

He grinned sheepishly. “I’ve just taken some aspirin but maybe later…”

She placed the mug on his desk and hurried away obviously not wanting to linger and he tried to remember if he’d been unpleasant when everything had erupted on Saturday. If it was true what Kate and his father were accusing him of then he needed to be extra kind to Simon and Jessie because they were his only permanent employees, and without them on his side he really would be sunk. He’d never dreamt it would be so hard to find good staff in the city and it was a major factor on a long list of things that he wouldn’t have thought possible when starting the job. Not wanting to look into Kate’s eyes on the photograph he put it away in the top drawer of his desk. Thinking of her and Saturdays mess had to be pushed firmly out of his mind if he was to get through today’s work.