“He chose your name, you know,” she said with a dreamy expression on her face and Katie knew she was thinking of her husband in their early days together. “I’d chosen the names for Jack and Michael and he’d said it was his turn to choose the name if you were a girl.”
Katie had heard this story a hundred times but smiled while she drove slowly listening patiently to her.
“He’d just finished reading a novel where the heroine was called Katie and stated that if you were born a girl then that’s what we would call you…”
Katie pulled up outside the bingo hall and taking her hand from the gear stick she reassuring squeezed her mum’s hand before she got out of the car. “You’ll just be in time for the last game,” she called out to her then turned and waved goodbye.
The next morning Frances had rung to say she wouldn’t be into work until later because her mouth was still sore from the dentist’s handy-work and Katie had told her to take it easy. Therefore, when she anxiously made her way along to personnel for the meeting she still had no idea what it was all about. She sat down opposite from David Shaw in the small windowless room and smiled tentatively at him. Susan arrived soon behind her and sat next to David facing her and immediately asked how she was settling into Claire’s flat. Katie assured her it was fine and then decided the atmosphere, whilst not exactly tense, seemed a little strained, almost as though they were waiting for something big to happen.
David was in his early sixties with a large face and huge bushy eyebrows that she often thought would actually start knitting together if they weren’t kept trimmed apart. He folded his big, chubby hands together in front of him on the desk and tried to smile convincingly at her.
It didn’t work and the hairs on the back of Katie’s neck stood up and her palms began to sweat - she clasped her hands together under the table to stop them trembling. Something awful was going to be said she could just feel it and her mind raced, wondering if she’d done something horribly wrong with one of the projects.
David started telling her what a brilliant team leader she was and the contribution she made on a daily basis to the department was exemplary and thanked her for the application for the project manager’s role. She breathed deeply deciding after this praise she couldn’t have made any huge blunders but shuffled uneasily on the plastic chair - her whole body was perspiring now in trepidation.
“But, unfortunately the decision to recruit anyone for the post has been taken out of my hands and no applicants are to be selected,” he explained. “Our chief exec has parachuted in a high flier with vast expertise in project managing, albeit not in a food category,” he said and then deliberately avoided any eye contact with her.
She couldn’t believe it and looked wildly between him and Susan.
David grunted trying to clear his throat. “Erm, apparently he came in yesterday and was interviewed by the MD and our personnel director who have decided that his outside experience and promise of new strategies will be a fantastic asset to the new advertising campaign and in turn, the company.”
This couldn’t be happening her mind screamed, after all the hard work she’d put into the department they were bringing in someone else over her head. Was it legal she thought frantically, but there again, who in their right mind was going to argue with the MD and chief executive?
She stared hard at Susan who although in size, shape, and colouring was the total opposite to Frances, she did have the same protruding grey eyes. They were downcast now as though she too couldn’t bring herself to look Katie in the eye and she stared at the white parting in Susan’s hair where the black colour had once been. Susan continued with more babble about how sorry they were that on this occasion promotion was not an option but that she must rest assured her application had been noted and that she would always be the first to be told about any future advancement.
David stood up to leave. “So, I know I can count upon you to welcome him onto the team when he arrives next month,” he said picking his folder up from the table. “Now, if you’ll both excuse me I have to be at another meeting in five minutes.”
Katie stared at him hurrying through the doorway and still felt too shocked to comprehend or say anything back to either of them. Susan then stood up and mumbled an apology and muttered that she’d only found out this morning and scurried out the door behind him.
Unbelievable, she thought, within the space of ten days she’d lost her boyfriend, her lovely apartment, and now had been turned down from what she’d been almost certain was going to be her new job. Casting her eyes upwards towards the ceiling she muttered, ‘what next, eh? What else are you going to throw at me?’
Suddenly the door opened and she looked up to see Frances standing there with watery eyes.
“Oh sweetheart,” she soothed, “I’ve just seen Susan in the corridor and she’s told me. Are you OK?”
“Christ, somebody up there doesn’t like me at the moment,” she said with a huge choking sob threatening to escape from her throat. “I just can’t believe it?”
Frances actually knelt down in front of her and put her arms around her. “I know, honey, you must feel like shit. But I do know Susan didn’t know anything until she came into work this morning and I know she’d have given me a tip-off earlier if she had.”
Katie nodded glumly. “Oh, I know none of it’s her doing and none of David’s either. They’re just the two poor sods that had to tell me.”
Frances hugged her tightly. “And of course, who the hell wants to argue with the chief exec, nobody, eh? Well, not if they want to keep their jobs.”
Katie still felt speechless. She couldn’t think of anything else to say but got up thanking Frances while they walked slowly to the staff restaurant together arm in arm for a coffee break.
By the time they’d made their way back up to the office everyone was abuzz with the news. What date was he starting? Which company had he come from and what was he like? But, reassuringly to Katie, they had all come to her desk to commiserate with her.
Slowly she was coming to terms with the disappointment that the job wouldn’t be hers and she wouldn’t be moving up to the manager’s floor. Harry and Alice both told her they were sorry but were also glad in another way because they didn’t want to lose her as their boss and Frances was being funny trying to cheer her up by stating they were all a bunch of boring farts upstairs and she’d be much happier down here with her friends.
But try as she might, she just couldn’t seem to concentrate on any of her paperwork and looked around the room at the same faces she’d been working with for eight years. She was stagnant and bored and the thought of carrying on with the same old job made her feel weary - there was nothing new for her to learn and no new challenges lying ahead, and worse than all of that was the fact that she’d have to report into someone else all over again. Sending texts to Sarah and Lisa she told them briefly what had happened and hoped they’d come to hers tonight to share some wine and supper. The thought of being alone tonight was awful and she decided she was going to get very drunk indeed.
Chapter Eleven
While Tim drove back down south that morning he suddenly wondered where Kate was staying, and felt his cheeks flush with shame because it had taken him a week to think about it. Defensively though, he decided this was because he’d been convinced she would have come back after a couple of days but when she hadn’t, and had moved out completely, well, he shook his head in amazement and whistled through his teeth - he still couldn’t quite believe she’d done it. She could, he supposed be at her mums house or at Lisa’s or Sarah’s. Or, if she was going to find somewhere on her own would she have enough money to finance it?
With his foot down hard on the gas and flying down the outside lane of the motorway he supposed that living his life through a haze of alcohol over the last few weeks hadn’t helped, and then it suddenly dawned upon him that his salary alone wouldn’t be enough to cover the rent on the apartment. Kate had always done their books and he mad
e a mental note to look through the bank statements as soon as he got home and inevitably he’d have to talk to his dad.
A sudden flashing motorway signal up ahead made him slow down and remember the speeding ticket he’d got last month; after his first driving lesson with his dad he’d always loved speed and was guilty of driving at a fast pace. He decided to look for a service café to stop and eat breakfast because his stomach was growling with hunger.
Spotting a sign for a service station ahead he indicated to leave the motorway at the next exit and after parking he strode towards the main doors. The newspapers in the forecourt all had headlines about the up and coming royal wedding of Prince William. Hmm, he thought woefully, there’s another Kate but as attractive as the future princess was, he knew she wasn’t a patch on his Kate.
He thought of his Kate’s small face and soft brown hair and those big gentle eyes that could lure a man into bed from a distance. On the Sunday when she’d left she’d had her slim legs tucked into knee-high boots with a short skirt and her ample full breasts straining against a black jumper. Christ, he thought with such an urge of longing to be with her that the arousal in his jeans took him completely by surprise.
“Beans or tomatoes?” a middle-aged woman asked him at the counter in the café.
“Sorry?” he asked dumbly.
She sighed impatiently. “Do you want beans or tomatoes on your breakfast?”
Trying to get his mind off Kate and the throbbing in his pants, he answered. “Tomatoes, please,” and then moved further down the line to the cash desk.
The tables looked none too clean and an unmistakable smell of old fat hung around in the room. This was obviously one of The Little Chef cafes that Heston Blumenthal had missed out, he mused sarcastically and carried the plate of greasy fried food to a table. But he was starving and ate quickly without much more thought of what he was actually putting into his mouth because he’d had a flash of inspiration while he stared at Prince William’s photograph.
When he’d first started at the restaurant he’d wanted to make changes to the menu but Jack had resisted because of his loyal clientele who loved the existing meals. It was time for him to put his mark on the place now and wondered if he could try some royal dishes on the Victorian theme but with up-to-date twists. He’d read at the weekend that Nigel Slater thought the hippest ingredient at the moment was nostalgia, therefore some old recipes might go down well. His mind raced with ideas and leaving the last of the congealed breakfast he strode back to his old Chevrolet and jammed his foot back down all the way to London and his beloved kitchen.
“Wow! You look like you’ve had a good day off?” Jessie said delightedly. “You’re looking so much better and much happier.”
He beamed his thanks at her while prowling around the kitchen, ideas and thoughts buzzing through his mind.
“Is everything sorted for lunch time?” he asked although he knew it was unnecessary because he had utmost faith in her. “Do you need a hand?”
Smiling coyly at him while she chopped spring onions to go into a bowl of cous-cous, she said, “Nah, we’re OK, we’ve got it all covered.”
Simon poked his head over the shelving on the island. “When are the new guys starting, chef?”
Tim walked around to him and clapped him on the back. “One is coming tomorrow and the other next week but don’t feel under pressure; if we get a rush of customers I’ll step in and help out.”
The freckles on Simon’s face seemed to be dancing today as he vigorously whisked a sauce to an inch of its life and grinned at Tim.
Once he was satisfied the day’s plans were in order and preparations for lunch time service were underway he took his place at the end of the long stainless steel island in the middle of the kitchen. It was a large kitchen kept scrupulously clean with beige non-slip floor tiles, and above the island hung every shape and size of pan he could wish for. Three of the four walls were lined with stainless steel cupboards, ovens, hobs, grills, and a large commercial pizza oven filled nearly the whole of the fourth wall. The island had stainless steel shelving above the work benches with row upon row of serving plates and dishes but within these shelves he could still see and talk with Simon and Jessie as they worked alongside or opposite to him. At the other end of the kitchen, the closest to the front of house dining area, was a long waist-high bench for plating food before it was whisked away to the diners.
With a big note pad in front of him he began to scribble all the ideas down he’d had whilst driving and bubbles of excitement ran through him. This was what he loved, and this was what he was good at, and this, no matter what Jack thought, was what he was going to try in the restaurant. He would introduce a couple of new dishes each week and get himself out front to the customers for their feedback. If they were well-received then Jack would have no choice but to let him change the menu. And, by April 22nd he’d be ready to cook the new royal main courses and desserts – he’d call it a royal banquet.
When he explained his ideas to Jessie and Simon she emptied all the cupboards looking for moulds, tart liners, flan cases, and pie tins, and piled them up on the long service bench. She offered to go out shopping for jelly moulds in different shapes, patterns, and sizes while Tim poured over lots of recipes in old books and on the internet.
When Jessie returned with bags full of ingredients he started making champagne, rosewater, and elderflower jelly which he filled into the moulds. There were shapes of shells, rose baskets, pineapples, grapes, and a large Belgrave mould with internal spiral columns. He coloured some of the more basic flavoured jellies and layered the colours in the moulds which looked amazing when he tipped them out onto the large serving plate. The gentle elderflower and rosewater flavour profiles in the jelly were superb and both Simon and Jessie, who should have left for home earlier, stayed on watching in awe at his skill and expertise.
“I can’t believe what fantastic and important looking things you can make just out of a few simple ingredients?” Jessie enthused.
Tim beamed at her adoration. “Neither could I when I first started. But once I’d found my niche, well, it becomes easy after a while, any job does when you love doing it - and creating new recipes is what I love.”
He worked feverously over the next two days developing a custard pastry using an old recipe which he tweaked to enhance the flavour and lined a flan tin that Jessie had found in the shape of the Tudor - Windsor Rose, and then filled another round mould to hold shaped compartments of coloured jellies. Full of excitement Simon offered to look on Amazon to find some old copper pie moulds for Tim’s idea of stuffed game pies, and then Jessie was entranced when he filled a sun and a half-moon shaped mould with a new variety of white custard and Madagascan flavouring. The whole kitchen buzzed with Tim’s enthusiasm and Simon and Jessie were swept along with him. The development carried on through the next three days and by Friday they filled the serving table with all the products they’d made. It was a marvellous sight and Jessie took photographs to download for the menus.
Deciding to try the desserts first he added them to the next night’s menus and just when he was wondering whether to tell Jack or not, he came into the kitchen. Begrudgingly he had to admit that they looked and tasted delicious and although he agreed to try them on the menu he remained cautious.
Thankfully they were a huge success and Tim proudly walked amongst the diners noting their comments about flavours and textures – he was in his element and began work on the main courses for the following week.
Chapter Twelve
Lisa sent a text back to say she couldn’t make it to Katie’s for the drinking session because she had a PR seminar that she couldn’t miss but called the MD a stupid bastard, and then Sarah replied next commiserating with her and agreeing to be at her flat for seven. Katie imagined Sarah upstairs in her studio beavering away working for herself and sighed; she would never be caught in a situation like this where her future had been decided by somebody else, she thought frustratingly. Sa
rah was in complete control, made all her own decisions about her life and work, and was totally independent.
The feelings of frustration and failure, although everyone reassured her she hadn’t failed at applying for the role, were alien to her and reckoned the last time she’d failed at anything would have been her driving test when she was eighteen. Since then she’d graduated with a first class honours from university and had been chosen from an interview list of five for her junior role and then when the team leader position became available she’d been chosen from an interview panel of three. So this, she decided was totally unfair because she’d never been given the chance to fight for the job in an interview situation. She picked a pencil up from her desk and twirled it between her fingers knowing that if she had been given the chance she would have fought like hell for it. The desire to run out of the office and never return was tempting at this stage but she knew it wouldn’t do her career any good.
She stared at her list of jobs on the pad but ignored them all and trying to distract her mind she logged into an internet search box. Slowly and absentmindedly she typed in the word ‘self-employment’ and began to read the associated articles. They were interesting and soon she became engrossed, clicking on a link about starting up a small business.
A small bubble of excitement started creeping around her stomach when suddenly she looked up to see Terry approaching Frances’s desk where he started badgering her again about cooking a special meal for him and his girlfriend.
That’s it, she thought, with a flash of inspiration; could she start her own catering business and cook meals specifically for men? Was there a market for it and surely if there were two guys in this one room looking for a cook there could be many more? Inspired with the idea of doing something completely different and being her own boss she researched the city market to see what services were already around.
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