The Little Paris Patisserie

by Julie Caplin

  ‘You think Peter and Jane want to create medal d’honneur pastries while they’re here? Or that Bill wants to become a pastry chef?’

  ‘Blimey. When did you turn into such a raging food snob who looks down on people who want to learn but haven’t had the opportunity yet?’

  ‘I’m not a food snob. I’m just a perfectionist. I want to educate people.’

  ‘So why won’t you educate these people? Give them your best shot, show them everything you’ve got?’

  Sebastian gave her a sharp look. ‘When did you become so evangelical about it all?’

  ‘I’m not but you used to be … so much more.’

  ‘More?’ he asked with a quizzical frown.

  ‘You used to be evangelical. Passionate about cooking and ingredients. Experimental. I don’t know, this seems a bit…’ She lifted her shoulders trying to choose her words carefully.

  ‘I’m teaching people the basics. The building blocks. You have to learn to walk before you run.’ Despite his words, for a moment he looked lost in thought. Did he remember how he’d once talked to her about his hopes and dreams of being a top chef? How he wanted people to appreciate good food, locally sourced ingredients and encourage them to try new things. After a moment, his eyes met hers, a wistful expression crossing his face, and he looked as if he were about to say something, but just then the others started trooping in and Sebastian pasted on his customer-friendly smile and she slipped to the back of the room.

  She’d learned after the first lesson that washing as you went was far more efficient. So by the time everyone had said their goodbyes at three-thirty, she was just about all done. Despite her sensible waitressing shoes, her feet were still complaining, so goodness only knew how Sebastian felt. Although she did much of the running, he still needed to get up and down to supervise and advise people.

  ‘Well done, Nina,’ said Sebastian as he thumped back on his stool. ‘We’ve survived another day.’

  ‘How are you feeling?’

  ‘Bloody terrible. Achy, tired and starving. That’s the problem with being surrounded by food all day and not touching anything.’

  ‘Didn’t you eat anything?’

  ‘No. If I tried one, I’d have to try all five. I wouldn’t want to be accused of favouritism. And I thought you might like to take the demonstration ones home.’

  ‘What? All of them? I’ll go back to the UK the size of a blimp.’

  Sebastian gave her figure a quick appraising stare, frowning as he did as if he’d never noticed it before. ‘There’s nothing of you. I think you can afford a few extra pounds.’

  Nina gave an inward sigh, drooping slightly. Not that she expected Sebastian to be particularly complimentary but the impersonal observation stung just a little.

  ‘Sorry.’ For once Sebastian looked genuine. ‘I didn’t mean that you look … bad or anything.’

  Nina shrugged and quickly moved to pick up the last of the mixing bowls and stow them in the labelled cubby hole. With a satisfied nod, she gave the kitchen a last onceover glance as if that were her primary concern.

  ‘I meant to say—’ Sebastian cleared his throat, for once looking a little awkward ‘—you’ve done a really great job today. Even if I’d been mobile I couldn’t have coped without you running these classes. I’d forgotten how super-organised and methodical you can be.’

  ‘No problem,’ Nina said, draping the last of the wet tea towels over the radiator, trying to keep herself busy.

  ‘I’m serious Nina. You always work so hard.’

  She shrugged.

  ‘You must be hungry too. You’ve worked nonstop today.’ When everyone else had stopped for lunch, she’d carried on as there was a ton of washing up to do and the prep for the afternoon session. It had paid off, and the afternoon had gone very smoothly. So Sebastian Finlay, Mr Perfectionist, couldn’t find fault.

  ‘And don’t shrug again.’ Sebastian pushed himself to his feet. ‘You’ve done a great job and I’m trying to say thank you.’

  She shot him a quick look. He seemed quite sincere as he carried on. ‘Like I said I am starving and quite honestly, I can’t face that bloody room service menu again. I’ve had enough of those posh burgers and thrice cooked fat chips and I really don’t fancy saffron chicken or a club sandwich. Do you know what?’ He paused with a rueful almost guilty smile on his face. ‘I fancy a McDonalds.’

  ‘McDonalds! Sebastian Finlay, I don’t believe you.’

  ‘Shh, don’t tell anyone,’ said Sebastian, putting a finger to his lips. ‘We can ask the taxi driver to drop us at the nearest one and then get a cab back to the hotel.’

  ‘I’m not sure I have any choice,’ Nina replied, her eyes dancing. ‘Although I might take photographic evidence.’

  ‘You wouldn’t do that to an injured man, surely?’ asked Sebastian, his lips twitching.

  ‘To most, no, but you’re a different matter,’ she responded repressively. ‘Besides you seem a lot more mobile and less in pain these days.’

  Chapter 19

  Bizarrely, a wave of homesickness rolled over her at the sight of the brightly lit restaurant, familiar graphics and pictures. McDonalds Paris felt rather too similar to the one on the dual carriageway five miles from home, a regular post-night-out stopping off point. As a teenager, she’d often bribed her brothers with the promise of a Big Mac to chauffeur her there before she could drive. With a smile, she acknowledged, they’d rarely said no.

  Sebastian hobbled in after her and arranged himself in two plastic seats, his legs propped up on one as she headed to the counter to order. After a bit of a language tussle, she came back with a tray of burgers, chips, onion rings (Sebastian’s choice) and two large cokes.

  ‘Here you go.’

  ‘You OK?’

  ‘Yeah,’ said Nina, trying hard not to think about what her family would be doing right now.

  ‘Sure?’

  ‘Just wondering what everyone is up to at home.’

  ‘Why don’t you give them a ring?’

  Nina shook her head vehemently. ‘No.’

  Sebastian unwrapped his burger without looking at her, his forehead furrowing. ‘That sounded very determined.’

  Nina vacillated for a second, wondering whether to open up to him or not. They weren’t exactly friends. Perhaps being honest with him might make him see her in a different light.

  ‘I’m trying to … distance myself sounds too harsh, but I just want a bit of space. Mum, Dad, Nick they all … I know they do it because they care but sometimes it’s just too much. Telling me what I should be doing. Or doing things for me, whether I want them to or not. And I know that sounds ungrateful but I want to have a chance to stand on my own two feet for a change.’

  ‘So coming to Paris wasn’t a whim then?’ asked Sebastian.

  She shot a glance at him and he held up his hands. ‘Honest question, I didn’t mean that’s what I thought.’

  ‘But you did,’ suggested Nina feeling defensive.

  ‘OK, at first I did. But Nick…’

  ‘Oh, great. You see, still interfering. What did he say? “Nina’s at a bit of a loose end at the moment. Can you do us a favour? Nina’s having a midlife crisis twenty years too early.”’

  Sebastian winced. ‘Something like that but then when you actually arrived, I thought that perhaps it wasn’t a whim and when I saw you … you look so different to … how you looked last time I saw you.’

  ‘What, done up like an overripe orange in a peach dress, throwing red wine everywhere?’

  He let out a sharp bark of laughter. ‘Oh God, I’d forgotten all about that. What a disaster. That shirt never did get clean again. I meant compared to when you were younger. You look…’ He paused, as if choosing his words carefully, which she realised he did a lot with her, as if terrified he might give the wrong impression. ‘Your hair suits you like that.’

  Nina patted her neat bob a touch self-consciously, suddenly relaxing that his abiding memory of her wasn’t one
of her most embarrassing moments in life. He didn’t even remember the peach number or the Tango tan. Then she couldn’t decide if that was a good or a bad thing.

  The radical change of hairstyle a few weeks ago had paid off then. As she sat here now she realised that trip to the hairdresser had been her first step of rebellion and wanting to make a change, although at the time she hadn’t recognised it.

  As she took a welcome bite, her stomach grumbling at her, she realised Sebastian was still watching her with an odd expression on his face.

  ‘I thought you were desperate for your Big Mac,’ she said.

  ‘Yes,’ he said, still looking thoughtful. ‘Starving.’

  There was an odd silence as he busied himself unwrapping his burger, unfolding the paper with careful fingers and smoothing it out. He picked it up and sank his teeth into it, a look of relish on his face.

  ‘Oh, that’s good.’

  Unable to resist, Nina picked up her phone and took a picture. ‘Evidence.’

  ‘No one will believe you,’ he smirked confidently. ‘Besides I could be eating a gourmet burger,’ he teased.

  ‘Not with a big Maccy D’s poster behind your head, you couldn’t,’ she replied, with a cocky shake of her shoulders.

  He whipped his head round and laughed. ‘Busted. And how do you plan on using it?’

  ‘I haven’t decided yet,’ Nina teased back, relieved that they’d moved on so quickly and pleased to see him in a jokey mode. He always seemed so serious these days, it could be quite intimidating. This was the most light-hearted she’d seen him for a long time. He always seemed coiled tightly like a spring wound down into submission.

  ‘At this moment, I don’t care. It’s a relief to be out of the hotel room. The thought of going back to the same four walls is rather depressing. I’ve been going stir crazy. I think you probably cop a bit of my frustration.’

  ‘A bit?’ Nina raised exaggerated eyebrows.

  ‘OK. I’ve been a bad-tempered sod and I’m sorry. You should have told me where to go.’

  ‘On that first day—’ she pinched her mouth wondering whether to admit it or not ‘—I was this close—’ she held up her forefinger and thumb ‘—to telling you to shove it and walk out.’

  ‘I’m very grateful you didn’t. Today went well, I think. I don’t think any of them are going to be winning any prizes anytime soon.’

  ‘No, but they’re an interesting bunch.’

  ‘Mmm.’ Sebastian’s non-committal answer had her asking, ‘Don’t you think so? There are definitely some stories there, and I think some of them are rather sad.’

  Sebastian didn’t quite roll his eyes but he might as well have done. ‘I thought they seemed a jolly enough bunch, especially the newlyweds. I’m not used to working with complete amateurs. As far as I’m concerned, they want to learn to cook, they’ve paid their money. It’s my job to teach them.’ He didn’t say it but the sentence might as well have been punctuated with the words. ‘End of story.’

  Nina smiled. ‘I don’t think I’ve ever seen a pair more in love with each other than Jane and Peter, but don’t you think that strength of feeling is because they’ve come out the other side. Theirs is the kind of happiness that comes from experiencing a depth of sadness.’

  Sebastian frowned. ‘If you say so.’

  ‘I do, it’s the feeling I got when I looked at them.’

  ‘OK, so they have a story but what about the others?’ Sebastian folded his arms as if humouring her.

  ‘Bill, I’m still figuring out and Marcel, well, there’s a mystery there.’

  ‘If what you say is correct.’

  ‘Why would he lie about working at the Savoy?’

  ‘He may well have done and there could be a thousand reasons why he gave it up. Burnt out. It’s hard work in the hospitality business. Unsociable hours. If you want to stay on top of your game, you’ve got to be a hundred per cent committed. Or he could have been caught with his fingers in the till and was sacked.’

  At Nina’s frowning face, he said, ‘It happens.’

  She shook her head. ‘I think there’s more to it than that. Did you know he was married? He’s a widower.’

  ‘No, I don’t know anything about him. He came with the furniture.’

  Nina rolled her eyes.

  ‘OK, Miss Know-it-all,’ responded Sebastian. ‘What about Maddie and Marguerite? They both seemed OK to me.’

  ‘Ah, you’re definitely wrong there. Marguerite is very sad. She’s been missing her grandchildren and family desperately, but she’s learning to use Skype, to keep in touch with them. So she’s a little less sad but I think she’s a bit lonely. And Maddie is very lonely.’

  ‘You’re telling me there’s no chance of cancelling the course then?’

  Nina wasn’t sure if he was serious or not. ‘No! You can’t do that. I thought you were committed to running it.’

  ‘I am but with this bloody leg, it’s not that easy. You were a great help today but I still spent a lot longer on my feet than I planned. And the contractors working on my other restaurants are nearly done. If they finish in the next five weeks, they’ll move on to another job and I’ll miss the slot for this place.’

  ‘And will that be really bad?’

  ‘Yes, because it delays opening up the bistro and starting to bring in some income.’

  ‘Couldn’t you just keep the patisserie open a bit longer?’

  ‘I don’t need to be able to access the shopfront at the moment to know that customers are thin on the ground.’

  ‘True.’ She thought of the dingy paintwork outside and the sad selection of pastries on offer. It was hardly surprising.

  ‘Which reminds me. Can you check the ingredients list for next week? We’re going to be concentrating on fillings – ganache and Chantilly cream – and using different flavourings. I think everyone managed quite well today apart from Peter. He is clueless.’

  ‘I don’t think he’s ever held a whisk in his life before this course.’ Nina shook her head. ‘But it is rather romantic. He’s doing it so he can cook for Jane.’

  Sebastian winced. ‘I can think of more romantic gestures.’

  ‘Like what?’ challenged Nina. ‘For you, cooking a meal or making patisserie is an easy thing. But for Peter, who’s an engineer, this is a real endeavour and something he’s determined to master to show her how much he loves her. What would you do? For your current girlfriend. What would please or impress her?’ Nina immediately wished she hadn’t said that. It sounded as if she was fishing for information.

  Sebastian looked a tad hunted. ‘A piece of jewellery.’

  Nina raised a sceptical eyebrow.

  ‘That’s what I bought her for her birthday and she liked it.’

  ‘OK, so she likes jewellery. So wouldn’t you commission a special piece for her or find one with a special meaning? You know, like a memory of somewhere you’ve been together.’

  ‘We’ve been out to dinner a lot. Before I broke my leg.’

  ‘Not to McDonalds, then?’

  Sebastian laughed. ‘Katrin wouldn’t be seen dead in here. She designs restaurant interiors and writes a restaurant critic column.’

  ‘Ah, hence dinners out. Is she the one you were with at the wedding where you don’t remember me chucking a whole glass of wine over you?’

  ‘I didn’t say I didn’t remember, just that it wasn’t my last recollection of you. And no, that was Yvette, she was a restaurant critic.’

  ‘So you’re a serial critic dater? I hope you get great reviews.’ Nina slapped her hand over her mouth. ‘And I so didn’t mean that to come out the way it sounded.’

  Sebastian’s mouth quirked, a dimple appearing in his cheek that Nina remembered of old. Once upon a time she’d obsessed over that dimple and trying to make him smile.

  ‘No one’s ever rated me on my performance that I know of.’

  ‘I’m sure you’d score full marks.’ She closed her eyes. And what had made her say tha
t! ‘I m – mean from a restaurant point of view. You’re a perfectionist. And a brilliant chef.’

  ‘I seem to spend more time with spreadsheets these days than in a kitchen.’

  ‘That’s a shame. I can’t imagine anything worse. I’m rubbish at that sort of thing, thankfully my sister-in-law does all the finance stuff for the farm shop café.’

  ‘You have to learn these things, whether you want to or not. It’s the price you pay for success,’ said Sebastian, suddenly grave. ‘Not all of us have the luxury of being able to…’ He pulled up short and studied the empty packaging in front of him as if it were the most fascinating thing known to man.

  ‘The luxury of what?’ asked Nina, in a quiet, dead tone, her heart sinking with a sense of dread. Did she really want to know what Sebastian thought of her?

  He glanced at her, quick and furtive. She clenched her jaw tightly and met his second glance full on, her chin lifted.

  ‘Well … you know. You always have your family to fall back on. They’re always there to pick up the pieces when things go wrong. I mean you were able to drop everything at the farm shop to come here, weren’t you? Knowing your mum and sister-in-law would pick up the slack. You don’t do spreadsheets because someone else will. You didn’t finish catering college.’

  ‘I had a phobia,’ she said hotly.

  Sebastian raised an eyebrow. ‘Or you just weren’t hungry enough for it. There’s no shame, it’s not for everyone. It’s hard work.’

  ‘I’m not afraid of hard work.’

  ‘I didn’t say you were, just that you didn’t want it enough and not finishing the course didn’t matter because you had the fall back of your family to take care of you.

  ‘The point I was trying to make is that not all of us have that luxury. I had to learn to master spreadsheets, whether I wanted to or not. Talking of which, I ought to get back. Today was a distraction I really don’t need. I’m trying to get two new restaurants open, before I even tackle the bistro. I shouldn’t be running patisserie courses, which is why I have to be able to rely on you.’

  Nina bristled, too shocked and hurt by his comments to say anything other than, ‘You can rely on me.’ Was that what he really thought of her? A spoiled princess who relied on her family. She fought hard against the sudden tears threatening. There was no way she was giving him the satisfaction of seeing that he’d made her cry.