“You’re right there isn’t. And you’ll be fine,” she said reassuringly. “When you hit a dry patch you can always pick up some odd agency jobs like I did. In fact I covered once for a guy who was off sick at Café Nero and I did some hours covering for a junior chef in a hotel for a few weeks when they were really busy.”
Chrissie delved into a drawer in a big wooden French dresser and pulled out a folder. “Yeah, there’s never been many caterers that take on small number bookings and that’s why I was so much in demand,” she said pulling out a sheaf of papers.
From what Katie could see the front page looked to be a list of names and addresses and Chrissie paused. “This is my contact list and although it’s a good few years out of date it might be worthwhile getting in touch with them,” she said looking Katie in the eye and then took a deep breath. “And, if this sounds cheeky then you must say so. But if you do go ahead I would be willing to give you the list as a sign of goodwill, in exchange for some work.”
Katie looked around the room and thought of the babies and couldn’t possibly see how Chrissie could find time to work and she hadn’t considered sharing the business in a partnership. “But how would you manage to share a business?” she asked.
Chrissie giggled. “No I don’t want to come in with you. I just thought if you were to take a job with more than two, three, or four guests I could be your waitress and assistant? It would get me out of here for a few hours and make me a little of my own money. I wouldn’t be able to start until the twins are on the bottles and I can leave them with big John, but, well, what do you think…”
Katie was delighted. She hadn’t given a thought to the fact that she’d need help for bigger dinner parties. “I think you’ve got yourself a deal,” she said grinning and they clinked their coffee cups together.
Chapter Thirteen
“Well, I spent Friday reading the whole of Chrissie’s folder and assessing the rates she’d charged for the meals she’d served and then off set them against the cost of food, transport, and equipment,” she told Frances over a coffee on Monday morning. “And the profits she’d made even six years ago were amazing.”
Frances nodded. “Chrissie always did throw herself into everything at a hundred miles an hour.”
“Oh Frances, it’s such a long time since I’ve felt so inspired about work and I know I can make a go of this business. But now it all boils down to the settlement from the apartment and my savings, and I figure if I get the bare minimum I’ve contributed into the apartment I should just have enough to buy a flat with a big kitchen.” she said
“Hmm,” Frances pondered. “And I suppose it depends how long it takes for Graham or Tim to contact you. Of course, you could always get in touch with them and explain that you need the money sooner rather than later?”
Katie grimaced. “Over my dead body!” she exclaimed which made Frances smile and sadly shake her head.
Ignoring the look on Frances’s face she continued, “And then I spent most of the weekend looking at estate agents websites, prices of flats for sale, and the costs involved for mortgages. I’ve circled a couple of areas on the street map where I’d like to live and run the business from which are fairly central to my friends and family…”
“So, you’re really going ahead with it all, then?” Frances asked forlornly.
She nodded and squeezed Frances’ hand. She knew how much she was going to miss her and how her support had been a lifeline over the last few weeks. “Yeah, it just feels the right thing to do, Fran. And at a time in my life when I really need a new direction.”
“Jeez, though, I’m going to miss having you around the place,” Frances said and suddenly her big grey eyes looked watery and full of tears.
“I know, but if I’d got the project managers job I’d have been leaving the team anyway?”
Frances gave her a weak smile. “Yeah, but you’d still have been upstairs and I could have popped up every day to see you.”
Katie sipped her coffee thoughtfully. “You know, it hasn’t been an easy decision and sometimes it feels like I’m outside myself looking into my new life. It’s strange because I’d got used to doing everything with Tim and deciding about things together but now he has nothing to do with any of this and I’m doing it all again on my own – and quite frankly it’s a bit scary.”
Frances fiddled with the salt cellar then visibly brightened. “Well, it’s bound to be, but I think you’ve approached the break-up with strength and dignity and you’re coping really well. I mean, some women would have completely gone to pieces by now. But you’re strong - you’ll be fine.”
“Thanks, Fran,” she said as they got up to go back to the office. “You’ve been great and I know I couldn’t have got through the last few weeks without you.”
“Aah, anytime, Katie,” she said, “I know you’d have done the same for me.”
She decided to keep as busy as possible during the week by looking in detail at the next six projects due to launch in Spring, which in a way would be tiresome, because she would have left the company by then but being the consummate professional in everything she did she gave the projects her full attention.
Later that afternoon in the meeting room, Harry, Alice, Frances and Katie sat around the big central table ready to present their new lines to everyone from the commercial, buying, and planning teams. David sat at the head of the table and Katie avoided his eye because she’d heard he hadn’t been too pleased when she’d walked away from Alex’s meet and greet session and they’d never really spoken since last week in the personnel office. She could tell when he’d entered the room that he was trying to catch her eye and give her a friendly ‘it wasn’t my fault’ smile, and although Katie knew it wasn’t, she couldn’t bring herself to play the game anymore.
Harry and Alice had been responsible for getting samples of the six desserts, serving plates and cutlery for everyone, and Alice’s gentle blue eyes were huge with apprehension while Katie urged her to empty the carrot muffin dessert onto a plate and pass it around everyone at the table. The product had been Alice’s initial idea and Katie wanted her to start to take ownership, criticism, and praise for her work. Alice was young, timid and lacked confidence but had graduated from her food science degree with a first class honours and Katie had been able to see a little of herself in Alice during the interview, which along with her meticulous attention to detail, was the reason she’d chosen her.
Everyone took a small spoonful of the dessert to taste and with a slightly shaky voice and a blushing red face Alice said, “Th…this product is called Carrot Muffin dessert and it has orange compote, carrot cake, Madagascan mousse, and is hand finished with white chocolate curls.”
Katie could see Alice take a deep breath once she’d sat back down again and she smiled reassuringly at her. They all knew Alice was shy and backed away from talking at meetings or speaking in front of an audience but Frances had told her it was all part of the job which she would have to get used to and with a gentle hug of reassurance before they’d started Katie told her that the more she did it the easier it would become.
Katie explained the commercial rationale behind the dessert project. “And that’s why we’ve chosen this combination, weight, and new style of pot, which I know is slightly different to the standard pot we already have on our shelves but it is necessary to display the muffin-style product correctly.”
The packaging technologist groaned about the cost and extra work of introducing another new pot to the business and Frances locked heads with him explaining it wouldn’t look right in their current shaped pot. He still continued to argue with her and Katie interrupted as peace maker by asking Harry to bring an empty pot they were currently using from her desk.
In the meanwhile everyone gave their comments about the dessert and the consensus of opinion was that the flavours were delicious together, the carrot cake was moist and spongy, and the orange compote was seductively sweet with the lovely light mousse.
David asked, “And why are we using white chocolate? Because I remember reading a consumer report from our commercial guys that said milk chocolate is still preferred to dark and white?
Before Katie could answer Alice gasped and said determinedly, “Oh no, we couldn’t use milk chocolate with white mousse and orange flavourings. It just wouldn’t work, I mean, it wouldn’t taste right at all!”
Katie could hear Frances tittering in delight next to her and Katie smiled encouragingly at Alice who was now blushing scarlet from her neck up to the roots of her mousey hair line. This was what she’d hoped to see in Alice and had known that one day her passion for her work would override her nerves.
David nodded satisfactorily. “Fine, I bow to your culinary expertise, Alice,” he said, teasing her gently and for the first time that afternoon Katie smiled at him in gratitude.
Harry came back into the room with the empty pot and Frances filled it with the mousse, sauce, and carrot cake, to which everyone agreed that it looked out of place and the new pot would have to be commissioned. Frances smirked in triumph at the packaging technologist with a ‘don’t even try to tell me my job look’ and the meeting continued all afternoon examining the other five products.
When Katie arrived home that evening her email inbox had over fifteen property attachments to look at from the estate agents websites. Making herself a quick meal, she read through them all and devised a list of favourites starting with the area, because that was the most important consideration, followed by price, and the size of the kitchens.
Lisa rang to chat and she told her that she was making a list of favourites in readiness for when she received her settlement.
“But darling, what are you waiting for?” she asked in her usual outlandish manner. “I mean, you know you’ll definitely be buying somewhere, it’s only the amount of money that could change. So why not go ahead and view them straight away?”
“Well…” Katie said, “I suppose I could view them now without making any concrete offers. And at least the vendors would know I was interested.”
Lisa puffed and breathed heavily down the phone. “Sorry, I’m doing my Pilates on the bedroom floor. Of course you could, and then if you narrow your list down to the top three you can go back for second viewings straight away without losing any time.”
Katie excitedly agreed and then suddenly felt quite anxious. It wasn’t so much about the viewings but what if she made a bad decision and bought the wrong flat? In this market whatever she bought would be really hard to sell-on. She shook herself realising Lisa was talking about different considerations for flats and whether neighbours should be above or underneath and decided her self-confidence had definitely taken a dip since she’d left Tim. She knew she’d always felt more confident when he was by her side.
Cautiously she asked, “Lisa would you come with me to look at them? It’s just, well, it’s a big decision and because Tim’s not around…”
“I thought you’d never ask,” she said laughing. “I love looking around places and we’ll drag mother hen along with us just in case we get over excited and she has to keep our feet firmly on the floor.”
Katie smiled at Lisa’s pet name for Sarah and knew out of the three of them Sarah was the most cautious about her new plans but this she decided wasn’t a bad thing because it would keep her grounded and realistic about what was achievable. Ending the call with a promise to text her with Saturdays schedule of viewings she then rang Sarah with the invite.
By Wednesday, and after numerous emails ping-ponging between her and the estate agents, she had a plan of her four favourite flats to view starting with the first one late on Saturday morning and then the other three appointments after they’d had lunch in the bistro. On more than one occasion that week she prayed the contact from Graham or Tim wouldn’t take too long so she could have a financial figure in her mind to work with and surprisingly on Friday afternoon when she returned to the flat a long white envelope was waiting for her.
She recognised Graham’s handwriting on the envelope and ran up the stairs two at a time struggling with her key in the lock because her hands were trembling with excitement. Ripping the envelope open she skim-read the details about how long she’d been at the apartment, how much money she’d contributed on a monthly basis, and how much hard work, time, and effort she’d spent upon the beautiful decor. She gasped in awe at the final figure on the bottom of the document and the cheque that fluttered out of the bottom half of the folded paper onto the carpet.
Oh my God, she thought retrieving it and looking again at the unbelievable figure. This was more, so much more than she’d expected and was thrilled and then humbled at Grahams generosity. A lump the size of a boulder gathered in the back of her throat and tears came to her eyes when she read the last three lines added by Lynne in her elegant handwriting. She wished her well, and said she would miss her terribly and how sad she was that Katie would not be her daughter-in-law. Her cheeks were soaked with tears at the jolt back to three weeks ago and she slumped down onto the settee. Her new look-forward resolve crashed around her into little pieces and she sobbed and cried her heart out.
Katie met Lisa and Sarah the next morning outside the first property on Oakland’s Road. She’d wound a thick scarf around her neck and wore her wool winter jacket because although it was dry the wind was biting cold and Sarah had to hang onto her fur lined cap when she climbed out of her car into the swirling wind. They’d all arrived in separate cars because each had different plans for later in the day. Sarah’s included meeting Mark for an early supper and the theatre, and Lisa would be rushing home to prepare for a night of passion with Adam.
“Darling, that’s fabulous!” Lisa cried out when Katie told them her news about the large sum of money from Graham.
Katie managed a wobbly smile quietly agreeing with her.
Sarah noticed and sympathised. “Yes, it’s great but at the same time quite sad?”
“There was a lovely note from Lynne too, which, well…” Katie said and then shook herself remembering her new resolve. “Come on, let’s get inside out of this pesky wind.”
They were shown around the property by an elderly gentleman with a gleaming row of dentures that seemed to have a life of their own, as he explained how long he’d lived there and showed them each room proudly. The girls kindly made nice comments about each room’s old fashioned décor and how the flowered carpets matched the flowered curtains but once they were back outside and sitting around a table in the bistro Katie told them it wouldn’t work for her.
“I know I’ve got extra money now and much more than what I thought I’d have but I don’t want to spend it having to make major alterations. And that house, although it does have potential needs stripping completely from one end to the other.”
Sarah nodded in agreement. “True, and it’s OK telling yourself that you can take your time over the years replacing things but if you’re going to get the business up and running you need to be focussing more on that and not on property alterations.”
Katie looked around the bistro just off Sloane Square and felt the heady aroma of strong garlic filling her senses while she admired the chrome furniture, opulent mosaic tiling, and the warm, cheerful atmosphere of people talking and enjoying their food - the management had got the ambience just right, she decided. Recently it had become their favourite Saturday hang-out, mainly because it was stylish, yet not pretentious, and the food was delicious.
She asked the waiter exactly what was in the tuna Niçoise salad, trying to remember how Tim used to question waiters and other chefs about their food. He had always been able to do it with cheerful confidence like a fellow enthusiast rather than coming across like a criticising fuss pot. Smiling, she remembered when they’d first got together, how she’d hung on his every word.
A loud hunger growl from her stomach made her realise the salad had been placed in front of her and she attacked it ravenously. “I know modern chefs had tried different variations with gr
illed tuna and salmon,” she said, “but this combination of tuna, hard-boiled eggs, French beans, sliced new potatoes, and black olives is still the best ever.”
She crunched into the beans and dipped every forkful into the dressing and when she popped a black olive into her mouth she practically swooned with delight at the fusion of flavours.
“So, is this the type of thing you’ll be making for your male clients?” Lisa asked in all innocence while she cut her ham and pineapple pizza into manageable slices.
Sarah and Katie both grinned at her lack of culinary knowledge. And Katie teased kindly, “Erm, well yes, if they ask for salad. But if it’s food for an evening meal then I might stretch to something a little more exotic.”
Sarah shook her head disapprovingly at Lisa. “How many of those bloody pizzas do you eat in a week?”
Lisa bristled with indignation. “It’s only my second this week,” she said, and then pulled a face at them both. “So what? I love pizza, what’s wrong with that?”
Neither Sarah nor Katie argued but happily devoured their food praising the dishes they’d chosen and at the end Katie insisted upon paying the whole bill.
“No arguments,” she said. “It’s my treat to thank you for giving up your Saturdays to come flat hunting with me and, for giving me a place to stay when I found myself homeless.”
Not listening to either of their protests she called the waiter over and paid him and then buttoning her jacket she said, “I’m definitely going to send Lynne a thank you card but I do feel a little strange about the large amount of money he’s given me, not exactly guilty, but…”
Lisa stood up and tugged her skin-tight jeans into a more comfortable position. “Whoa! Just a minute there,” she exclaimed. “I think you deserve every extra penny for putting up with that drunk, arrogant, bastard for all those months and obviously that’s what his dad thinks too. Which is probably why he’s dipped further into his huge bank balance?”
Yes Chef, No Chef Page 13