Yes Chef, No Chef

chapter Six



With the questions creating chaos in her mind Katie couldn’t get to sleep and lay awake until three o’clock after which she must have dozed off through sheer exhaustion. Dressing for work, she decided whatever she was going to do would have to happen soon because she only had her grey suit at Sarah’s and not enough work shirts to last more than five days. Pulling the curtains open at the bedroom window that looked up onto street level she noticed Lisa’s car had gone and remembered she’d left early for a meeting.

Pot of coffee for one then, she thought dropping two slices of bread into the toaster. If she decided not to go back to Tim then she’d be back to making single pots of coffee. But there again she sighed heavily, what would be the point of going back to the stress and strain of Sunday morning lie-ins and coffee pots for two when he wasn’t the man she’d fallen in love with? And, if she did try again and he didn’t change, the relationship would only deteriorate further and further until she’d have to leave and then go through the heartache all over again. Sighing with indecision she crunched and chewed the toast but it felt dry and unappetising in her mouth and she threw the second slice into the bin whilst drinking down the rest of the coffee.

During the drive over to work she tried to rationalise her situation and had to face the fact that because it was four days since she’d seen him, and granted she had spent the time under the illusion that somehow it would work out all right, she had to accept that maybe it wasn’t going to. And, when she’d fled the apartment on Sunday night in temper it had never crossed her mind that it would be an indefinite separation. She found his silence hard to accept mainly because she’d always felt so confident about their love for each other. She’d known from their first week together that he was the one, the special love of her life that she’d read about in novels and heard other women describe from their relationship stories. And he’d said the same to her on many occasions that she was his special one, the love of his life, so how in God’s name had it all gone wrong - how had they lost their way? Or, she thought miserably, maybe he wanted to lose her and be alone to start again with someone else and was now delighted he’d been given the get-out-of-jail-free card. Was this how the last fourteen months of her life was really going to end?

At lunch time she had a text from Sarah to say she’d had a brilliant night with Mark and had invited him on Saturday for dinner and hoped she would like him too when they met. This, she realised was something she simply couldn’t face. The thought of sitting with the two love birds for the whole evening would be heart breaking and suddenly she felt trapped with no escape route. She was a guest at Sarah’s which meant she didn’t have much choice in the matter and knew she should be grateful but she was just so used to her own independence.

“Damn him!” she swore quietly, when she headed down the stairs towards the staff restaurant with Frances and explained the text to her.

Frances moaned sympathetically. “That will be a killer,” she said. “Look, it’s nearly the weekend, why don’t you ring Tim? And at least try to talk to him?”

“Me, ring him!” she said indignantly. “Why the hell should I ring him? I mean, why isn’t he ringing me?”

Frances held up her hands in defence. “Whoa! It was only a suggestion.”

“Frances, it’s his bloody fault I’m in this rotten mess and feeling in the way at a friend’s house,” she said angrily. “It’s OK for him sitting pretty in our apartment that I actually planned and spent hours decorating. Where’s the fairness in that?”

Katie realised she was being unkind to Frances who was only trying to help. “Look I’m sorry,” she said, “I’m just…”

“Angry?” Frances asked. “Yes, you’re angry now and it’ll do you good. Get this mess sorted out, Katie and don’t let him walk all over you. Lisa is right you need to be savvy about the apartment and especially about the money.”

While they stood at the restaurant counter deciding what to choose for lunch she had a text from Lisa asking her if she would like to eat Indian food that evening rather than drinking more wine at Sarah’s, and furthermore she had free tickets for a play at the national theatre. Katie was delighted, this was just what she needed to keep her mind occupied and she readily agreed.

Choosing a chicken salad while Frances opted for the daily special of mince and dumplings, one of the planning team called across for them to join their table.

Katie moaned, “Frances, please don’t sit on their table. I can’t bear listening to all that rubbish about a sodding coffee mug being taken from a desk. They’re all so bloody anal it makes me want to scream at the trivia…”

As Katie paid for her meal she saw Frances walk over to join another table where the sales team were seated and she inwardly groaned because this could turn out to be even worse than the planners but she had no choice than to follow and put her tray down opposite James, the head of meat marketing. If there was anything that would make her head throb more it would be listening to him gloat about himself.

She’d never liked James since her first month at the company when he’d made a pass at her on a works night out and because she’d been warned by Frances that he always tried it on with the new girl, she’d pushed him away. His dented ego had never let him forget it. It was common knowledge now that he was having an affair with one of the junior marketing girls who was a blonde nineteen year old bombshell while his wife, who Katie and Frances had met on numerous occasions and liked, was at home raising his three children.

“Christ, if only it was so easy,” James groaned. “We’ve exhausted the two local restaurants, so according to her they aren’t special any more - well, not special enough for an anniversary dinner. So, it’s going to cost me a bloody fortune bringing her back into the city for a meal and then a taxi home again.”

The poor woman, Katie thought while staring at his fat podgy hand gripping the knife and remembering how sick she’d felt when he’d tried to stroke her leg. “Well, how about fish & chips in a newspaper?” Katie commented sneering at him. “That way, she’ll know exactly how much she means to you.”

He dropped his knife down with a clatter while everyone at the table sniggered and then his cheeks flushed red with embarrassment. “Yeah, good idea,” he smirked back at her. “But there again, it doesn’t matter what I give her to eat she’ll still be gagging for it as usual when we get home…”

The other women at the table looked embarrassed and the men shuffled uncomfortably in their seats. Katie seethed at his revolting arrogance and was gearing herself up to fire another caustic comment at him when Terry, a divorcee from the planning department, stepped in as peacemaker and agreed it was hard to find good local places to eat.

Looking around the table at everyone, Terry said, “But really, it’s not a restaurant I’m looking for, it’s a cook. I want to find someone to cook for me at home so I can impress Jessica with my new apartment on Richmond Hill.”

Katie teased him gently. “Oh my, it must be getting serious now, is it?”

Terry blushed. “Yes, well I think so. But I want the first time she comes to my new place to be special. Do you know anyone, Katie? Would your Tim do it?”

The upset at the mention of Tim’s name made her catch her breath. “D…Don’t think it’s his type of thing, Terry.”

Terry winked kindly at her and then grinning he joked, “Hey Fran, do you fancy cooking for me?”

Frances tossed her wild hair back and swallowed a mouthful of mince. “Yeah, that’ll be right enough. Buy yourself a bloody cookbook!”

Everyone erupted into laughter. One of the sales secretaries’ suggested looking for a catering company to do the job but Terry pulled a face. “I’ve tried that, they only have professional chefs who charge a bomb when the meal is for small numbers. And, I’d rather have someone I know that would cook great food with none of that pretentious nonsense.”

James added, “I know, I hate that bloody nouvelle cuisine, all that means is you get less food on a huge plate for twice the price! A friend of ours calls it fancy food with foams and drizzles and micro-leaves. Yuk! Well, if you find someone to cook for you, Terry, let me know. And then I can get them to do the special dinner at home for us too.”

All of a sudden Frances jumped up from her seat. “Of course, bloody-hell, why didn’t I think of it sooner,” she cried and shot off across the room to a table where Susan and the team of personnel were eating.

Back in the office Katie wondered if she should ring Tim. Maybe he hadn’t received her email last night but there again she knew if she rang him he’d probably be busy in the restaurant and she didn’t want to chance leaving a message with a wobbly voice. But Christ, this had to be sorted out because as far as she could see she seemed to be the only one who was suffering.

Frances appeared at Katie’s desk breathless from hurrying up the stairs. She stroked the back of Katie’s hair in a motherly fashion and for one split second she could have put her face into Frances’s soft warm body and wept like a baby.

“Now, I have news,” Frances said excitedly. “Just hear me out before you say anything. My sister, Susan has a friend called Claire who has gone off this week to Africa for two months. Before she went she’d tried to find someone to rent her flat but because it was for such a short period of time nobody was interested. The flat is actually not too far from Sarah’s house in Putney and is fully furnished with one bedroom. Well, I thought if things don’t pan-out with Tim, or you feel you need more time to think but don’t want to stay at Sarah’s, how about renting the flat?”

Katie thought about it. “Hey Frances,” she said. “That’s a great idea, thanks. I’ll wait to see what response I get from this email and let you know.”

Waiting for Lisa to arrive at Sarah’s, she was showered, changed, raring to go and with her stomach groaning, she thought of the Indian menu, deciding she would choose a creamy chicken dish with her favourite mushroom pilau rice or maybe lamb biryani which was another of her all-time favourites. Her mouth watered with the thought of the pickle tray and poppadum’s, the flavours of garlic naan breads, and smiling she remembered how Tim used to tease her about her love for Indian food and her insistence of sticking with the same tried and tested dish.

Shaking the thought of Tim from her mind she went upstairs and wandered around Sarah’s studio thinking how great it would be to have your own work place one floor above you, with all the peace and quiet to concentrate on how much lovely money you could make. Although she did remember Sarah telling her once that there was a national average and it was up to the individual whether they charged clients more or less. She looked admiringly at one of Sarah’s black and white designs hanging above her desk and wondered what it felt like to be self-employed? She loved the idea of being your own boss with nobody to answer into and when she considered some of the crap managers she’d worked for over the years it sounded like heaven. But, she decided, there would probably be pros and cons to self-employment, the same as everything else in life.

She picked up a marker pen from Sarah’s cluttered desk which looked a complete mess compared to her meticulously tidy desk and wondered how on earth she could concentrate and work in a muddle like this? Rolling the pen between her fingers she remembered Frances once telling her that she must have OCD because she was always so much in control and everything had to be planned to within an inch of its life. Replacing the marker carefully she fought the urge to tidy things into piles and make some order out of the chaos and then wondered if Tim had found her a control freak to live with in the apartment. And could it have been one of the reasons why things had gone wrong?

Hearing Lisa’s car pull up, she shook herself and then cursed angrily. Shit, here she was tearing herself to bits looking for flaws and deep down she knew that if he’d loved her as much as he’d said he did it wouldn’t have matter whether she had OCD or lived like a tramp. Hearing Lisa calling her name from downstairs she fled from the room, wiping all the negative thoughts from her mind and out to the car.

The next day her mobile tinkled with an email.

From tim.davies to katie.charles

Thanks for the email, Kate.

Not sure there’s really much more to say, after all you made the decision to walk out. I presume you still have your key, therefore you may return anytime to collect more clothes.

Tim.

Katie read the message over and over again because she couldn’t quite believe this was happening, and it was obvious that he still thought of himself as blameless and that it was all her fault. Of course she’d made the decision to walk out; there wasn’t a woman in London who would put up with being spoken to in that manner - was there? She supposed there could be women with so little self-esteem they’d accept his arrogance and patronising attitude just so they could say their partner was head chef in a London restaurant. And that, she decided angrily was the crux of the matter - she simply couldn’t become one of those women, even if she wanted to.

Pulling her shoulders back she lifted her head and looked around the office - she was a major player in this big professional team of people and her job was every bit as important as a head chef, probably more, Frances would argue and she deserved to be treat better than this.

“Well that’s it I suppose, we’re no longer a couple,” she said to Frances after reading the email to her.

“Crikey,” Frances cried shaking her head in disbelief. “Who the hell does he think he is? You know, I can’t believe this is the same man. I mean, I’ve known Tim even longer than you have, Katie.”

“I know. It’s like there’s somebody else masquerading in his body.”

Frances looked warily at her. “Not sure if this is the right time to say this because I don’t want to upset you even further but…”

Katie rushed to Frances’s desk and perched on the end of it. Whatever Frances had to say be it good or bad might help and God knows she needed some uptake on this. “There couldn’t be a better time. Just tell me?”

“Well, after you two had got together Tim told me one night that he often felt inferior or that he had to take a back seat when it came to work mainly because you are so fantastic. I remember him saying he’d have to work for years and years to become as proficient as you…”

Katie cried out in protest. “But that’s ridiculous!”

She stared at Frances hoping for some type of further explanation but none came. “Fran, I can’t believe that. I mean, I’ve never ever criticised his work ethics or the quality of his cooking.”

Frances shrugged her shoulders and began fiddling with the wool tag on her cardigan. “Just putting it out there…”

“Christ, he knows fine well I’m always in awe of the dishes and new ideas he comes up with and I’ve given him loads of support and encouragement,” she said continuing to stare at Frances while doubts and past conversations with Tim whirled around in her mind.

Frances soothed. “Of course you have now. But maybe not so much in the beginning which of course is when he said it to me. So, it’s probably got nothing to do with what’s happening now.”

She needed some time to think in private and making an excuse, she scuttled off to the ladies where thankfully the cubicles were empty. Closing a door behind her she tried hard to remember past conversations about his work and her job and remembered how they’d always teased each other about which was the better and more important of the two jobs. But surely that was just gentle camaraderie, wasn’t it? He couldn’t possibly have taken it seriously and, sighing heavily, she plonked herself down on the lid of the toilet seat. Was it one of the reasons why they’d grown so far apart in the last few months? But no, Tim was anything but shy when it came to talking about his work; in fact if she had to think of a word to describe his attitude to his cooking, it was boastful if anything.

She traced a finger idly over the lock on the back of the door and wondered why she wasn’t crying? Surely she should be weeping because her relationship was finally over but she just couldn’t find the tears. All she felt was a staggering sense of disappointment in him and wondered how she could have totally misjudged his character; but there again, he hadn’t been like this when they’d first met.

Frances looked across at her when she sat back down at her desk and, sensing Katie’s turmoil and misery, she suggested leaving early and taking some work back to Sarah’s house to finish. Katie agreed and packed two folders into her bag, wished everyone a nice weekend and left the building. The skies were grey, overcast and full of light rain which she decided fitted her mood exactly - not bothering to open her umbrella she let the rain trickle down her face while she walked to the car. Arriving at Sarah’s and feeling completely exhausted she let herself into the basement, turned the central heating on and lay down on the squidgy soft settee. She put her head onto two plump cushions and with the words from his email going over and over in her mind she let her eyelids droop and instantly fell asleep.

Later that night when Sarah was home and Lisa had arrived carrying three bottles of wine plus two huge pizza boxes she told them about the email and the fact that she was now returning to the world of singles.

“Oh honey, I know how devastated you are but you can’t put up with shit like that from a man. I mean, you’re just not the type…” Lisa drawled.

Katie nodded sadly. “I know, and this afternoon I was almost wishing I wasn’t a feminist and had no self-respect or pride and could just amble along the same road to avoid the whole splitting up scenario.”

“Lisa’s right, Katie,” Sarah said. “But there again; no woman should have to put up with that from a man, well not now-a-days.”

“I mean, who the hell does the prick think he is?” Lisa continued scathingly. “Bloody Superman?”

Lisa’s face was perspiring slightly under a thick layer of what Katie suspected was another new skin-care product she’d bought. Unfortunately Lisa hadn’t been blessed with a good complexion and spent hundreds of pounds on every new foundation and cover stick that came onto the market even though she and Sarah had repeatedly told her that her self-consciousness was unfounded. She took a tissue from her handbag dabbed at her upper lip where slight droplets of perspiration formed and Sarah asked, as Katie had done previously, if she should turn the heating down.

“No, I’ll be fine, thanks. Bloody hot flushes! Men, I tell you, they get away with everything. They don’t have to put up with this bloody carry on,” she fumed.

Katie gave them a weak smile trying to buck herself up. “Anyway, I’ve decided to get up tomorrow and start the weekend with a plan of action. I can’t lie about wallowing in self-pity any longer.”

Lisa and Sarah looked between each other while she told them about Claire’s flat and how she was going ring Frances to ask if she could move in over the weekend.

Taking hold of Sarah’s hand Katie squeezed it tightly. “It’s not that I’m not comfortable here, Sarah, because you’ve been fantastic. It’s just that like you I’m used to my own independence and I want to have all my own stuff around me. Claire’s flat will be a little bolt-hole for me until money from the apartment is sorted out and then I can maybe buy myself somewhere…”

“It sounds ideal,” Sarah said, “And, I do understand.”

Katie turned to Lisa. “And because Sarah will be getting dinner ready for Mark tomorrow I wondered if you would come with me to the apartment to collect my things?” she asked. “If I go around one o’clock it’s guaranteed that he’ll be at the restaurant and I can pack without seeing him.”

Lisa soothed. “No problem, of course I will.”

Sarah raised an eyebrow. “But, Katie, are you just going to walk away without at least talking to him?”

“Yep, well he reckons after fourteen months of sharing our lives together there isn’t much more to say,” she said pouting stubbornly. “But hey, if that’s what he wants, then that’s fine with me.”

Katie lifted her chin in defiance, poured more wine into their glasses and as brightly as she could muster she said, “Now, Sarah. We want to know all about York, the hotel and Mark. And don’t spare us any of the gory details because we want the lot, don’t we, Lisa?”

Lisa laughed and Sarah grinned as she began to tell them about her trip.



The city was still grey and miserable the next day but at least it wasn’t raining she thought, when she rang Frances to ask for the keys to the flat. Frances told her she’d make the calls and agree the rent with Claire and ring her back.

Sarah was out shopping for fresh vegetables when Katie stripped the guest bed and made it up with fresh linen whilst cleaning the en-suite bathroom she’d used. She was just finishing ironing her work shirts when Lisa arrived outside and tooted her horn. With a feeling of absolute dread she grabbed her fleece jacket and ran out to the car.

Lisa had a roll of black bin liners on the back seat. “I thought they’d come in handy in case you’ve too much to go in the cases,” she said giving her a reassuring smile.

Katie tried to smile back and agreed she probably would have. The apartment was still and quiet when she turned her key in the lock and the memory of the day she’d moved in with Tim threatened to engulf her. Pushing it firmly out of her mind she entered the lounge and shook her head in annoyance at the mess. How could it be so untidy in just one week?

Lisa followed her. “Christ, what a mess!” she exclaimed picking up two empty beer cans from the floor. “God knows what the kitchen will be like?”

Katie shook her head and went purposively into the bedroom to lift a suitcase down from the top of the wardrobe. “Oh, the kitchen will be fine.” she said. “That’s Tim’s domain so it’ll be pristine.”

She began to empty her side of the wardrobe and drawers and Lisa came to help working in silence until the two cases were full. Katie’s insides were churning and she felt totally bereft when she looked around the bedroom. It was her favourite room and when she stood at her side of the bed remembering the way they’d made love to each other, she thought her chest would tear apart with the pain.

Lisa carried the two suitcases down to her car and Katie went into the bathroom with a black bag to collect the rest of her toiletries from the cabinet. At the last minute she lifted the lid from laundry basket to look for remaining clothes and cried out in dismay when she saw the black cocktail dress still lying at the bottom.

She hadn’t heard Lisa come back into the room because the tears were streaming down her face and she had such a tightness in her throat she felt she was choking.

Lisa picked the dress out carefully and put it into the black bag. “Come on, sweetheart,” she said tenderly. “That’s enough for now. If there’s anything else you need we’ll buy it for you.”

Gently Lisa guided her back towards the door and she looked around the hall through her tears knowing she’d never set foot in this apartment again. Slowly and deliberately she placed her keys in the glass bowl on the hall table and Lisa slammed the door shut behind them. They climbed into the car and Lisa sped off while Katie’s mobile rang and, snivelling, she wiped the tears from her face with the back of her sleeve. She heard Frances’s voice on the line telling her she could collect the keys in the morning and leave a cheque which she would give to Susan to bank. Thanking Frances she put her head back wearily and closed her eyes.

“There now, we’re all sorted,” Lisa said kindly and turned towards Putney. “By this time tomorrow you’ll be settled in your own place for a while and can start to come to terms with what’s happened.”

Katie patted Lisa’s knee in thanks because she couldn’t find any words to answer her with.

Back at Sarah’s flat Sarah pleaded. “But you can still stay here tonight. Oh, please don’t rush off just because Mark is coming. Anyway, I wanted you guy’s to meet him…”

Lisa took Sarah’s arm and propelled her into the kitchen and Katie could hear them whispering. She sank back into the settee feeling emotionally drained but then looked up suddenly when they returned.

Lisa said, “I was just telling Sarah that it’s better for you to stay at mine tonight because if you’re feeling better later I’m going to drag you off to a party I’ve been invited to . And then tomorrow when we get up all your stuff will be at mine ready to set straight off to Claire’s flat and move you in.”

Katie nodded in agreement, got up and hugged Sarah. “You’ve been fantastic, Sarah. I couldn’t have got through this week without both of you and I owe you big time.”

Lisa stroked Sarah’s arm. “We’ll come and collect you tomorrow at lunch time if Mark has left, and you can come to help us move Katie in.”

Sarah’s eyes were watery and Katie knew she was on the verge of tears so calling their cheerios and see you tomorrows, they left and climbed into their separate cars and headed over to Pimlico to Lisa’s flat.