by Shae Banks
“Happy Christmas, Bekah,” Lee, the sous-chef called from the far side of the kitchen.
“Yeah, you too,” I said, trying to sound cheery while heading to the small basin by the door to wash my hands. “Anything need doing in here?”
The walk-in freezer door opened, and chef backed out with a huge box in his arms. When he turned around, he looked me over, I assumed to make sure I was properly presented, and frowned, then nodded his head once. “Morning, Bekah. The tables aren’t set, get on that. Be sure the glasses are pristine and have Lucy polish the cutlery as she sets each place. Danny should have the champagne on ice, but can you check while we finish up in here? And if you see Louisa, have her double check the linens, we need the second set pressed and ready.”
“Yes, Mr. Lowell,” I said, taking a clean white cloth from the stack on the counter by the door to the dining room.
Lucy was setting the tables. It was a small restaurant, only twenty-five covers, but that didn’t make the shifts any easier. It was damn hard work, and Mr. Lowell was known to be a hard-ass. I’d never experienced it personally, but there had been more than one girl leave the kitchen in floods of tears and not come back. “Luce, give that cutlery another polish,” I said, glancing over my shoulder.
She rolled her eyes. “They’re bloody shining.”
“I know,” I said, “but… you know.”
She did. It was going to be a long day for all of us, and he’d probably been in that kitchen since six already. “Is the set ready to go for the second sitting?”
I nodded. “I did them on Thursday, stayed late. They’re all boxed and ready.”
She smiled.
I liked Lucy. A few years younger than me, she worked weekends around college as I had when I first started, which meant she worked with me quite a lot. I worked all four nights the restaurant was open, plus events. We were a small team, most of us meeting up every six weeks for a drink. Mr. Lowell never joined us.
“Don’t worry. We’ve got this. Danny is at the bar so drink orders will be fine, Lee is in the kitchen taking the brunt of Mr. L, and we can work out a system around this set up.” I waved my hand, gesturing around the room. The tables had all been moved to accommodate the seating arrangements of each booking.
We set to work and had the room looking perfect in under an hour. When our other two servers arrived they were followed into the dining room by Lee and, to everyone’s shock, Mr. Lowell.
He looked at each of us but didn’t mention anyone’s appearance. I relaxed slightly. I had put on makeup, but my face still felt puffy from crying the night before, and I wasn’t sure I’d managed to hide it well enough.
“Danny, open that bottle and pour us all a small one, would you?” he said, leaning against the bar and nodding to a bottle of champagne chilling in an ice bucket.
Danny jumped to it, and when we all had a flute in hand he went on, “I want to thank you all for your hard work over the holidays. It isn’t over yet, but after today the worst is. So, thank you, and Merry Christmas.”
He raised his glass and took a drink, his eyes flicking to me when I did the same. I pulled in my brows and shuffled back a step, standing closer to Lucy.
“Let’s try to have a good day, shall we?”
We all nodded, and I turned away to make myself look busy. The rest of the staff dispersed, Lucy and Danny following Lee into the kitchen at his request, leaving me at the bar with Mr. Lowell.
“Are you here for the full day, Bekah?” he asked, finishing his champagne.
His accent was… well, to put it bluntly he was posh. Really posh. We all had typical Northern accents we tried to curb for work, but there was no mistaking his. Mr. Lowell sounded like he was fresh out of Oxford.
I fiddled with the stem of my glass. “Yes, Mr. Lowell. Me and Lucy.”
He nodded. “Be sure to take a suitable break between sittings. Fourteen hours is a long shift. I appreciate you taking that on.”
I nodded. “I had nothing else to do. Good luck in there,” I said, looking at the kitchen door.
He laughed. I’d only heard it a handful of times. He was usually shouting about something in the kitchen, getting orders out fast, pleasing his patrons. He was passionate. Unfortunately, that came across as bloody angry and too unpleasant when we were all rushing around and stressed to high hell. Not that I’d change it. Despite the madness, I loved my job.
I found myself watching him, taking in the little changes to his face. Like the way his eyes crinkled slightly at the corners and the lines that formed around his mouth. His eyes were bright, and for the first time I noticed they were a pleasant, if unusual, grey-green.
“Thank you. Today should be relatively straightforward. Desserts are pre-made and each dish was ordered on booking. I know there are two sittings, but I kept it simple since it’s Christmas.”
Relaxing a little, I smiled. As a member of staff, I had the privilege of trying the dishes without having to pay the prices. Simple food was not something Callum Lowell created. Culinary delights, yes. Gastronomic masterpieces, usually. One of the reasons I picked up Christmas was to see what he’d come up with, particularly for dessert. “Well, wish us luck out here in the trenches, then.”
His lips twitched, and he held out his hand for my empty champagne flute. I handed it to him, and he winked. “Best of it. See you later.”
I watched him go back to the kitchen as Lucy came up behind me. “That was weird.”
I snorted and said, “Maybe he hit the Christmas spirit instead of putting it in the trifle.”
It was, though. He’d never joined us for pre-service drinks. He’d never gathered the staff and thanked them for their hard work either. Not that he was ungrateful, he just wasn’t the constant praise type. We had jobs to do and as long as we did them, he was happy. “I’ll be back in five, I need to check things with Louisa.”
“Are you okay?” Lucy asked as I stuffed my uniform into my bag. “You haven’t been yourself today.”
“Yeah, yeah. I’m fine,” I said tucking my coat under my arm. “You should get going, your mum’s been waiting half an hour.”
I watched her go and followed her out, but instead of heading out the staff door, I turned left into the kitchen and cut through to the dining room.
Everyone was gone, but I was still too wound up. It always took me a while to come down after a shift that had been both busy and long. I took my purse out of my pocket and stuck the coat and bag on a chair, heading for the bar.
I’d just put a five pound note on top of the till when the kitchen door swung open, and Mr. Lowell walked in. “Still here, Bekah?”
He sounded as exhausted as I felt, but didn’t seem bothered I was still in the building and seemingly helping myself from his bar.
“Yeah, umm, I was just going to have a quick one before I set off for home. Still a bit… I left money on the till.”
“Yeah,” he said, pulling his black and white checked hat from his head, freeing his surprisingly long, dirty-blond hair, and stuffing it in his tunic pocket. “I know what you mean. Don’t worry about it, least I can do is buy you a drink after today. Pour me one, I’ll be back…”
Chewing the inside of my cheek, I frowned. I didn’t know what he drank.
I settled for two very large measures of Irish cream liqueur and went to sit at one of the tables, wondering what, exactly, was happening.
He returned with a wooden board in each hand and placed them on the table. “Help yourself.”
On one was half a cheesecake and two spoons, and the other was a full cheese board with grapes and sliced apple. “Wow. I thought the cheesecake was gone.”
“I always stash some for emergencies,” he said, taking a grape from the bunch and biting it in half.
“Is this an emergency?”
“Midnight on Christmas day after fourteen hours—sixteen in my case—is a definite emergency. Thanks for the drink.”
“Thank you,” I said, taking a little from the edge
of the cheesecake.
I ate in silence, and he allowed me to, waiting until I put down my spoon and picked up my glass before saying, “I imagine your family missed you today.”
I shook my head. “I doubt it. I’ll make up for it tomorrow.”
He nodded. “Same. I have the family descending by lunch time.”
I sipped my drink, licking the sweet remnants from my lips. “How many days do they stay?”
“Two nights then it’s back to work. I saw you had New Year’s Eve off. Big plans?”
I laughed and shook my head. “I’ll be working through the day, I have a second job at the gas station, then, If I’m lucky, my little sister will have bought me a book for Christmas. I’ll be living it up on the sofa with pizza and whatever world she’s throwing me into this time.” As an afterthought I asked, “Are you working or is Lee?”
His eyebrows pulled in slightly, and he sat back, unfastening his tunic and shrugging it off. He was wearing a vest underneath. “Private party. A few friends, nothing fancy.”
I nodded and picked up a slice of apple. “I should get home. It’s almost one.”
“Did you drive?”
I shook my head. “I don’t have a car. It’s only a ten-minute walk if I get a move on.”
“Not a chance. It’s pissing down out there. The rooms are all prepared for my family, but room six won’t be used. Take the key from reception and get your head down.”
I opened my mouth to protest but he held up a hand. “I won’t hear it. You can’t walk home alone at this hour. I’d drive you, but I had a few drinks cleaning up, and I’m beat.”
Lips pressed together, I swirled the last two mouthfuls of my drink in the bottom of the glass. It would be easier, and probably safer, to stay there.
“If you need to be up early, I can give you a knock when I head down in the morning.”
“Yeah, you’re probably right. Thanks, Mr. L—”
“Callum.”
I smiled and pushed back my chair, putting my glass on the table. “Thanks, Callum.”
He watched me pick up my coat and bag, and I left him there while I went for the key to room six.
It took me a minute to find it. I’d never spent any time in reception, and the key cabinet was in a really dark corner of the office. Rather than turn on the office light, I turned on my phone to use the flashlight. It erupted in a string of alert chimes, telling me I had several text messages. Retrieving the key, I turned off the light and opened the messenger app while I ascended the stairs.
One from my younger sister made me smile. A family selfie with the message Happy Xmas, little big sis. We miss you.
The rest were from Jonathan.
Nausea churned in my stomach, a lump forming in my throat. Did I want to know what he had to say? Was there any point in reading his excuses? It didn’t matter what he said, nothing would change. It never had before.
I’d slowed to a stop half way up the stairs staring at the phone in my hand.
“Bekah?”
Callum’s voice startled me, and I turned around, hugging my coat and bag closer to my chest. He was two steps beneath me, our faces level. He was close enough I could smell the beer he’d drunk earlier. “What?”
“Sorry. Tell me to mind my own business, but you’ve been distracted today. It isn’t like you. Is…” He scratched the top of his head, mussing his already messy hair. “Is everything all right?”
“I’m fine, I…” I couldn’t lie. I didn’t know why, but I couldn’t stand there and lie. “I broke up with my… Boyfriend trouble.”
It was a feeble explanation and nowhere near the reality of what had happened, but it wasn’t a lie. He gave me a sad smile. “I’m sorry. Hope it works out, one way or another.”
I huffed a short laugh. “Yeah. New year, new start and all that. I’ll be…. Thanks for letting me stay here. You know…”
He looked down at my phone, then back up at me and smiled. “You’re very welcome.”
“I… I’ll see you in the morning?”
“If we ever make it off the staircase, yes,” he said, looking past me.
“Oh, yeah.” I turned around and started climbing them again, keeping a tight hold on my things
I was painfully aware of him behind me and had to force myself not to look back. Room six was at the far end of the building. I remembered it from delivering breakfast to a couple in there once. Right opposite the stairs that led to the upper floor. Callum’s flat.
I’d always wondered why he lived up there, it was like never leaving work, but I didn’t ask. I kept my focus on getting to the room and letting him pass by to go up to his flat. When I finally made it, I turned the key in the lock and pushed open the door as my phone began to ring.
I didn’t mean to sigh. I didn’t mean to do anything to draw his attention to the fact that I didn’t want to answer this call. I wanted to reply to my sister and turn the damn thing off, but there wasn’t much chance of it now.
“You’re sure everything is all right?” he asked as the phone went to voicemail.
I nodded and turned to close the door. He had one hand on the door handle to the next flight of stairs, but he looked concerned. “Yeah. Night, Callum.”
He didn’t move. It wasn’t until my door closed that I heard his open then close. I dropped my coat and bag on the bed, the phone on the nightstand, and went into the bathroom to my right. The lights came on immediately, and I caught a glimpse of myself in the ornate gilt mirror that dominated the wall above the sink. I looked like shit. Not wanting to look at myself, I turned away to the corner shower. That was what I needed.
The shower gel provided in the bathroom smelled amazing, even after I’d gotten dried and climbed into bed. I sank into the mattress, tugging the duvet up over my shoulder and picked up my phone. There were three missed calls and two more messages waiting for me, all from Johnathan.
Curiosity getting the better of me, I opened the last one.
Answer me. I need to see you.
This confirmed what I’d told myself the previous night.
I didn’t have to answer him. I didn’t want to see him. I didn’t know when it had become this—me at his beck and call, a quick fuck at his convenience—but I was stopping it. No more.
Before any more tears could form, I turned off the phone and shoved it under the pillow. Right then, I was well away from him. I was safe here. Callum had offered me so much more than a bed. He’d offered me a sanctuary. A brief respite from the storm that was brewing.
Exhausted and grateful, I closed my eyes. For tonight, I could sleep without anyone walking in expecting something.
Chapter Three
Voices outside woke me. One male, one female, they were chatting happily, then a door opened and closed. I sat up in bed and looked around the room. It really was lovely, all highly polished antique furniture and red damask wallpaper, a stark contrast to the room I usually slept in in my one bedroomed flat. I was still tired, but remembering where I was and how I’d gotten here, I got out of the excessively comfortable bed and pulled on my clothes, then made the bed, retrieved my phone, and gathered up my coat and bag.
When I got out into the hall, I stopped dead. A woman was standing in front of me, looking at me with a beautiful smile on her face. Her eyes were twinkling.
Vaguely familiar, although I couldn’t place her, I tried not to stare. Instead I looked her over quickly. She was wearing a tartan poncho, skinny jeans, and maroon calf-length boots. The ensemble looked like it cost more than two months of wages for me, and I looked her up and down twice before forcing a smile.
“Umm, hello. I was just, I’m...”
She looked behind me, and Callum said, “Cissy, this is Bekah. Bekah, my younger sister, Cecilia.”
I turned on the spot to face him. He must have followed me down the hall without me noticing.
“Did you sleep well?” he asked before I could splutter a greeting.
He was wearing jeans and a T-shir
t. I couldn’t remember ever seeing him out of his chef’s whites. He was even dressed like that the day he interviewed me.
I wet my lips and managed to say, “Yeah, I... Thanks for putting me up. I’ll see you New Year’s Day.” Then I turned back to face his sister. She was still smiling.
Keeping my eyes down, I made for the stairs. She stepped to the side, allowing me room to pass in the narrow hallway, and I hurried down the steps as she said, “She’s pretty.”
His voice carried down the staircase as I reached the bottom. “Is she? I hadn’t noticed.”
Cissy snorted. but I didn’t hear what she said in response and turned at the bottom of the stairs to get to the small office. Pushing the door open, I went in and put the room key in the cabinet.
Turning to leave, I heard Callum again. He sounded irritated. I knew that tone, having heard it in the kitchen often enough. “It wouldn’t be any of your business, Ciss. Would it?”
By the time I was out of the office, Callum had reached the bottom of the stairs. He smiled. “Sorry about that. She’s...”
I closed the door and slung my bag into my shoulder. “I’ll see you. Thanks again.”
“Do you need a lift?” he asked, opening the door for me.
I looked out. It was cold, dull, and miserable, but the rain had stopped for the time being.
I shook my head. “No, thanks. Have a great time with your family.”
He nodded. “You too. And good luck with... you know.”
I looked at the phone in my hand and laughed. I needed more than luck to handle the mess I was in. I still hadn’t dared turn it on.
“Thanks. See you,” I said, stepping out into the cold late morning.
He didn’t close the door until I descended the steps and was out on the pavement.
Looking up at the building, I took a breath of cold salty air. I didn’t usually leave through the main entrance being staff. It was beautiful. The whole town was. Being a Georgian sea port, the architecture was breathtaking, but Callum had done such a good job of renovating and maintaining the building it stood apart from the others. The pale blue exterior walls and white accent paint work on the period sash window frames really made it stand out.