A Taste of Love

by Willis, Susan

  ‘Hmm, I’ve always admired people who’ve learnt by working hands-on rather than textbook,’ he said, carrying the bags into the kitchen while she stacked all the products in the fridge.

  ‘I’ll photograph these and record the weights, ingredients and prices tomorrow,’ she was saying just as Annette and Tom arrived in the kitchen. They were both interested to see the Sushi menus and Tom noted the carton packaging they’d brought.

  ‘Shall we have a meeting Friday lunchtime to discuss the new lines we could choose to work on?’ Richard asked.

  They all agreed and he continued excitedly. ‘And that should coincide nicely. As if Helen is okay for Wednesday night we’ll go back into London to the new Sushi Samba Japanese restaurant on Bishopsgate to see what they’ve got on offer. It only opened in November last year so we can see what’s trending.’

  *

  Helen was in a total spin getting ready to go out for dinner with Richard and although she told herself time and time again that it was simply a work evening, it was the first time she’d been out at night in her new clothes. Karen, having rallied considerably, had insisted on dropping by to help – not only was she putting on a brave face during her five-day wait but was much more upbeat and had told Helen that Greg had been marvellous.

  ‘It’s just’ – Helen worried – ‘I think this cocktail dress is gorgeous. I mean, that’s why I bought it. But is it too much for a work night? I don’t want to look overdressed.’

  Karen sighed. ‘Look,’ she said, stroking the pale blue silk, ‘It’s lovely. And if you’re not going to wear it then why did you buy it – to hang in the wardrobe?’

  Helen stood in front of the mirror and slipped the low-waist cocktail dress over her head, smoothing it down over her hips to fall in a swing just below her knees. The flapper fringe was covered in silver beads which, when she made a little jig movement, all glittered in the light. She looked at her sister and thought of the misery in her life at the moment and pulled her shoulders back. She would wear this dress tonight for her, she determined, and enjoy every minute of Richard’s company. Lifting her chin she smiled at Karen. ‘You’re right. It’s simply perfect.’ Then she slipped her feet into silver kitten heels and picked up the matching clutch bag.

  Karen insisted on dropping her at the Tube station to prevent her from side-stepping puddles of rain. But Helen knew she really wanted to see what her new boss looked like.

  Richard had already bought their tickets for the Tube journey to Liverpool Street Station and Helen sat next to him wrapped in her black raincoat while he carried a large golfing umbrella. They chatted briefly about the horrendous downpour earlier and how they both longed for warmer spring weather while she tried to curb the churning in her stomach –she was beside herself with excitement. As they walked south from the Tube station on Bishopsgate towards the Heron Tower she noticed how they were more or less the same height and walked comfortably at the same pace, while he quietly hummed a tune and intermittently pointed out things of interest in the surroundings.

  She could tell he was obviously enjoying the outing into the city and she felt the same pleasure being carried along with his enthusiasm. At work, she thought, he looked so sombre and just your everyday normal working guy. But when they were together he seemed to come alive and change into an over-excited adolescent which she found a heady combination.

  As they entered Sushi Samba, a thrilled Helen took a sly peek at Richard. She saw his face light up as brightly as the fairy lights strewn along the criss-crossed ceiling. In the centre of the room was a large circular bar and in the middle stood a huge tree full of brown and orange fairy lights.

  ‘Wow!’ He exclaimed. ‘It’s absolutely amazing…’

  A waiter hurried towards them and she slipped her raincoat from her shoulders to hand to him. She looked up modestly at Richard, who stared at her gleaming with delight. Karen had been right about the dress, she thought, and hugged herself with satisfaction at his reaction – she was learning fast that making an effort with her appearance gave her as much of a thrill as the people who appreciated her attempts to look good.

  ‘Wow! Again.’ He grinned at her while they followed the waiter to a table in the corner of the room. The small wooden tables were matched with red cubed, circular settees giving the large room an intimate atmosphere and she slid along next to him.

  With large glasses of Chardonnay they perused the menu, but for once she was struggling to show any interest and knew she would much rather find out about him.

  He seemed to be thinking along the same lines. ‘I can’t concentrate on this Sushi at the moment,’ he said.

  She could feel his eyes scanning her face, hair, neck and down to her cleavage peeking out from the V-neck in the dress. She smiled at him. ‘Let’s just drink our wine and talk for a while.’

  ‘That sounds good,’ he nodded. ‘I would have brought down something more suitable to wear if I’d known I’d be here in such a fabulous place with you…’

  She reassured him. ‘Don’t worry, the grey suit looks just fine – it must be hard living out of a suitcase all week.’

  He leaned further towards her and she caught his spicy aftershave. ‘It’s something I’ve got used to because I’ve been working away from home for over fifteen years now,’ he said.

  ‘Hmm,’ she asked carefully. ‘That mustn’t bode well for family life.’

  He looked past her towards the tree in the bar area and nodded. ‘You could say that. Sometimes I feel so far removed from them all – let’s just say it’s a ridiculous situation to be in.’

  A silence settled between them and she could see he was deep in thought. She decided to look at the menu and give him a few minutes. She recognised the look on his face – it was how she’d often felt when going through turmoil with Rob.

  ‘The Miso soup looks good to start with,’ she offered, smiling tentatively. ‘It’s a product I’ve often thought we could introduce into the factory – it’s very easy to make and I would think it’ll have great profit margins.’

  He shook his head and grinned at her. ‘Thanks, Helen. I really appreciate it. Yes, let’s start with the soup. I’ve never had Miso – is it spicy?’ he asked. ‘In fact, looking at this menu there’s quite a lot of these dishes I’ve never experienced before.’

  Wanting to lighten the atmosphere she decided to have some fun. ‘OK, then, I’ll order for us both,’ she teased. ‘Just stick around with me, Richard, and I’ll make sure you experience things that’ll make your hair curl!’

  He threw his head back and laughed until his eyes were wet – she loved to see him like this – he looked like a totally different man. And, she realised, after what seemed a lifetime she was beginning to remember how to flirt.

  They ate their way through Miso soup, Daikon salad and a selection of different Nigiri with mackerel, tuna, omelette and salmon. ‘I’m going to make some of these Nigiri rice shapes in the kitchen on Friday morning if you want to come in and watch,’ she said just as the waiter arrived with the rest of the dishes she’d ordered.

  The plates of Beef Tataki, Coconut rice, Japanese charcoal-grilled chicken, steak, black Cod and Japanese mushrooms covered the table. As the waiter placed the last plate down Richard threw up his hands in protest. ‘Enough! I won’t be able to eat all of this,’ he laughed.

  She sat back in the chair smiling. ‘OK. Just have a little of each and I’ll talk us through each dish as we taste it,’ she said as they both tucked into the delicious fresh Sushi.

  They ordered more wine and talked, completely at ease with one another. Finally agreeing that they couldn’t eat another morsel, they sat back on the settee well and truly sated.

  ‘So, now you’ve tasted everything, if we try one of these dishes at work you’ll remember eating it here and what it tastes like,’ she said lightly.

  ‘Oh, I’ll remember tonight.’ He stared at her with soft eyes that seemed to be filled with an inner glow. He made a steeple with his hands and pres
sed them to his lips. ‘Tonight will be something I’ll never forget, but it won’t be just the food I’ll remember…’

  She felt her face flush and fidgeted. ‘Me, too,’ she murmured.

  *

  As she sat in the back of the taxi she didn’t want the night to end and silently prayed that he felt the same way. When they pulled up outside her house she heard, and could hardly believe it was, her own voice, asking him inside for a coffee. His agreement was evident in the gentle way he looked into her eyes and then helped her climb out of the back of the taxi.

  They sipped their coffee and relaxed back into the soft, leather settee. She found herself telling him the whole story of her long marriage to Rob, how much she missed Rachel, her new image and the pact she’d made with herself. ‘I feel, in a way, as if I’ve just been let out of prison and I want to make up for every year I was confined to this house and couldn’t do the things I wanted to,’ she said. ‘But you probably won’t be able to understand that.’

  He touched her arm lightly with his fingers. ‘That’s just where you’re wrong, Helen. I can totally relate to everything you’ve just said, and some…’

  She could feel the light hairs on her arm tingling with the touch of his skin and with a shaking hand she placed her coffee mug carefully on the table. She was sure he was going to kiss her although she could see a slight wariness in his eyes as if he wasn’t certain whether to make a move or not. The whole of her body ached to be touched by him and she decided to give him some encouragement. She leaned towards him, rolled her tongue around her dry mouth and then softly parted her lips. With a firmer hold on her arm he pulled her towards him, their faces centimetres away from each other and their eyes locked together. She could hardly catch her breath and could hear his rapid breathing. Slowly he lowered his lips onto hers and they began to kiss.

  Chapter Seven

  The next morning, as Helen sat with Karen in the breast assessment centre in front of the consultant to hear the results, she could see by Karen’s demeanour that she was more positive than the previous visit and she squeezed her hand reassuringly. Greg had come with them but had chosen to stand guard in the waiting area to stop Karen from running out again.

  ‘The biopsy results show that these unusual cells are suspicious but because they are not run-of-the-mill the small biopsy pieces I took are not big enough to name them exactly. The only way we’re going to identify them is to get this lump out and let the micro labs look at it in detail. They are still, however, borderline,’ the consultant said, looking directly at Karen.

  Karen cleared her throat and croaked. ‘So you still can’t say whether they are cancerous?’

  Helen had an ache in her throat when she looked at Karen knowing how much it had taken for her to even utter the words.

  ‘That’s right,’ he nodded gravely. ‘They are suspicious and I would be very surprised if they turned out to be benign but we’ll get the lump removed and decide then whether you’ll need more treatment. But, Karen, I do want to reassure you that we have excellent results with this type of procedure and I’m confident the outcome will be very successful.’

  She could see Karen raise her small shoulders and lift her chin in an effort to keep control and Helen felt completely overwhelmed with pity for her sister.

  They were ushered, still clinging onto each other’s hands, into an adjoining room with the breast care nurse. Jenny was a lovely nurse and immediately made them both feel easier by explaining all about the operation. The operation would be done by the surgeon, with the help of a guide-wire to remove the lump and an area of breast tissue surrounding it. She had a clay model of a breast and explained how nowadays they tried to preserve as much healthy tissue as possible in comparison to years ago when surgeons used to remove the whole breast as a precaution. She also explained that if the cells were still in the capsule then only an operation would be necessary but if the cells had broken through it would be classed as invasive and radiotherapy might be needed. At the same time the surgeon would take a lymph gland out to make sure the cells hadn’t spread.

  When they reached Greg in the waiting room Karen ran to him and he scooped her up into his arms hugging her tightly. Helen stood next to Greg and quietly told him everything they knew.

  He ran a hand through his thin hair and peered over his rimless glasses at Helen. ‘But that’s good,’ he said, confidently. ‘It’s tiny, they’ve caught it early and the outcome will be successful. It’s just what I like to hear – a procedure with excellent results.’

  ‘But the cells are s-suspicious,’ Karen stuttered into his chest.

  Gently he eased her away from him and smoothed the hair from her damp forehead. ‘So much better that they’ve found it now than it go undetected for another five years and grow into something much more sinister. Look, they’ll remove it next week and you’ll be fine. And when you’ve had time to think about it you’ll realise just how lucky you’ve been…’

  Helen couldn’t help but suppress a smile while she followed Karen and Greg, arm in arm, down the corridor and outside into the car park. Greg’s philosophy on life was certainly different, she mused, but it was what Karen knew and loved about him and Helen knew it would sustain her through the weeks to come.

  *

  After a quick lunch, and when Helen was confident that Karen would be all right with Greg, she dashed back into work. Annette and Tom both enquired about Karen and she quickly supplied them with the details then headed straight into the kitchen to put some initial ideas together – she needed to have her mind occupied.

  She took six pieces out of each bag of samples that had arrived and switched on the oven, then sat down on a stool and gazed out of the window across the car park. She had always been able to put her thoughts into compartments and think about them in order of priority, which she figured was a result of living with Rob’s dramatics over the years. And last night when Richard had left and she’d climbed into bed, she had purposely thought about Karen and what she could be facing with the biopsy results. Now she knew that this particular worry was stabilised, she could at last give her thoughts and full attention to the kiss.

  To use one of Rachel’s expressions – it had completely blown her mind. Apart from the sublime overpowering feelings of desire that had raced through her and the bodily cravings to be touched, it had lasted for such a long time. She’d felt as though Richard’s lips had been stuck to hers in some type of suction and he’d devoured her lips as though he never wanted to stop. When they’d eventually eased away from each other to take huge gulps of air, the look of complete astonishment on his face mirrored the exact feelings she was experiencing. She’d never been kissed with such force or passion before and had felt quite lightheaded.

  Maybe it had been the lack of oxygen to her brain, she thought, giggling, and then heard the oven timer buzz as it reached the correct temperature. In automatic movements around the kitchen she pulled oven trays from a cupboard and placed the six pieces of tempura prawns, pork dumplings, chilli rice crackers and dim sum parcels on the trays and slid them into the oven. While waiting for the twelve-minute cooking time she formed some sticky rice into log-rectangle shapes to make her Nigiri samples.

  Annette and Tom arrived in the kitchen doorway and Tom asked, ‘We can smell food cooking – is there anything good to taste?’

  Helen smiled at him. ‘Yeah, there is. I was going to call you both in five minutes,’ she said, and told them the names of the products.

  ‘Great. I’ll give Richard a ring. He might want to taste them too,’ Annette said, pressing his number on her mobile phone.

  Helen’s insides tumbled just at the sound of his name. After they’d got over the shock of the kiss he’d suddenly looked embarrassed and she too had felt unsure and totally out of kilter with herself. They’d sort of mumbled pleasantries about the meal and a lovely night as he’d shuffled towards the door.

  But now, she thought rapidly, how would they be with each other at work? It wa
s probably best not to mention it at all, she decided, and resolved to keep her professional head well and truly in its proper place.

  He arrived, breathless, just as Helen was lifting the products out of the oven. She gave him her best smile while lifting the individual pieces onto separate plates. He apologised for being a few minutes late and Annette waved her hand dismissively.

  ‘These do look good.’ Richard said. ‘Do we have prices for each piece or do they sell them per kilo bag?’

  Helen gave them all a fork each. ‘Tuck in. Yes, Richard, I have prices for both actually. But I need to try the fit in some of our black trays and then we can discuss it on Friday at the meeting. This tasting is just to make sure the quality is good and we’re happy with the flavour profile before I do any more work on them…’

  They all nodded in agreement and Helen wrote down their comments on a taste panel sheet. It was unanimous that the only sample they couldn’t approve was the rice crackers as they didn’t quite match what they perceived would fit into the Sushi range.

  Just before everyone left the kitchen she turned to Richard. ‘I’ll be making Nigiri samples next if you want to come back in around thirty minutes. I know you wanted to see how they’re made.’

  He smiled and nodded at her. ‘That’ll be great. And maybe I can try to make some myself. I always find it’s a good way to learn…’

  Helen smiled to herself, wondering if he was also thinking of the nigiris they’d eaten together in Sushi Samba the night before, and she couldn’t help but look forward to him coming back.

  She trimmed and cut smoked salmon into the exact same rectangle lengths to match the rice shapes she’d moulded and then did the same with smoked mackerel and red pepper, and set them aside. Then she took a large square sheet of Maki seaweed, and cut it into long thin strips around ten centimetres and added them to her collection. With her preparations complete she began to wash the dishes used at the taste panel and then looked out of the window to see him hurrying across the car park towards the kitchen.