Yes Chef, No Chef

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Yes Chef, No Chef Page 25

by Willis, Susan


  Finishing the coffee she got up to look for her boots sighing wistfully at the thought of having a son with Tim and how he’d probably turn out to be a little boy with the same dark thick hair and green shining eyes as his dad, and wondered now if she would ever have any children. Automatically she rubbed her flat stomach trying to imagine what it would feel like to have a baby growing inside - her biological clock was certainly ticking she decided, but shook herself out of the reverie, grabbed her bag and headed out to the car.

  The afternoon sun streamed through the windscreen of the car when she drove out to the garden plots listening to Joe McElderry’s CD of classical music. She had a list of vegetables she needed for the buffet but wondered if she should start to order carrots and onions on a weekly basis. It would be cheaper and more convenient than buying them from a supermarket she reasoned, and of course it would also mean gazing into Sam’s twinkling blue eyes when he delivered them. "Bring. It. On," she whispered to herself - Lisa was right it was high time she had a little fun in her life and found something, or someone to make her smile again.

  By the time she reached Sam’s address the sky had clouded over but it was still warm and she climbed out of the car to head towards what she assumed was his plot. The white vest she wore was a little too tight and she wriggled trying to pull it down to meet the waistband of her denim shorts. She knew it was strained tight across her chest but then pulled her shoulders back with an air of confidence and repeated Lisa’s favourite saying - if you’ve got it flaunt it.

  The large well planned vegetable plots stretched further than she’d imagined and at the side was a long greenhouse where she presumed Sam must be. Sauntering casually towards it she relished in the feel good factor and how nice it was to be outside in the fresh air rather than being stuck in a stuffy office building.

  This was definitely one of the perks of self-employment she decided calling out a greeting, “Hellooo, are you there, Sam?”

  He popped his head out of the door and walked towards her grinning playfully and she noticed how tanned his arms, face and shoulders were, which she supposed was typical for gardeners who worked in the open air all day.

  “Hi,” she said walking along the gravel path towards him and brushing his cheek with a kiss. “Lovely place. Is it all yours?”

  “It sure is," he said. "Glad you could make it.”

  He extended a hand and pointed to where his boundary line started and finished, and told her about his future plans to buy another area for a fruit orchard.

  “Wow!” she said. “That’s impressive, growing fruit and vegetables isn’t as easy as everyone thinks it is.”

  He smiled his thanks and nodded. “Tell me about it,” he said with a sudden frown creasing his brow. “It certainly wasn't easy at first and I only started with a small allotment intending to grow my own vegetables. It was more for something to do than anything else because I'd been made redundant.”

  Heavens she thought, here was another person’s life being turned upside down with this bloody recession and nodded sympathetically as they fell into step with each other.

  He continued, "And, at the same time because the monthly wage packet had stopped coming into our bank account my long suffering wife ran off with her physiotherapist.” His cheeky grin disappeared and a haunted expression settled on his face.

  "Oh dear," she murmured.

  Visibly he shuddered, as though the memory of her had left a nasty taste in his mouth. "But there again, in another way she did me a big favour," he said, and touching the side of Katie’s shoulder he beckoned for her to follow him down the length of gravel path towards the greenhouse. While they walked he explained which local companies he was selling his produce to and the areas where he delivered his vegetable boxes. She nodded her head while listening and by the time they reached the greenhouse door his cheeky grin was back in place.

  He made a dramatic bow allowing her to step inside before him and she giggled with pleasure. The greenhouse was old with a few small panes of glass broken in one corner and two long benches which ran either side. There was a vast array of vegetables on the nearest bench and she inhaled the different fresh aromas of home grown tomatoes, cucumbers, spring onions, Vichy carrots, and green beans.

  "Mmm, lovely smell – you don’t get this in a supermarket," she commented, looking around and immediately felt the hot, damp atmosphere.

  “Of course not, most of the vegetables are shipped and flown into the country which is a terrible thing to do to them. They probably get jet-lagged just like we do.”

  She giggled. “This all looks wonderful,” she said pointing at the vegetables admiring them and him at the same time.

  He set down a large wicker basket onto the bench. “Thanks, I thought I’d make you a basket of vegetables as a belated flat warming present.”

  She was taken aback by his kindness. “Hey, that’s great. Thanks very much.”

  “No problem,” he said grinning, “I suppose most people would give you a bottle of wine but these will last much longer.”

  "Yeah, the way me and my friends drink you're probably right," she agreed laughing.

  He began explaining which vegetables were his best and the ones he’d had problems with and she leant against the bench watching him snap tops from the carrots and put them into the basket. Then he collected handfuls of the other green vegetables and set them in a row along the bench placing them from the largest down to the smallest.

  “You see, the cucumber is the longest and thickest but naturally, it’s far too big,” he said stroking the length of it and dropping it into the basket. He raised an eyebrow and gave her a smouldering look. “And, of course the sugar-snaps and green beans are too small and thin to be any real use…”

  She couldn’t quite make her mind up if he was flirting with her or just teasing her in a playful manner? Her white vest began to stick to her back and she anxiously made a comment about it being hot and muggy.

  Ignoring the trite weather comment he picked a courgette up. “But, these little beauties just keep on coming, so big, and so fast – there’s no other squash plant grows like courgettes do.”

  She shuffled from one foot to another becoming uncomfortable with the oppressive heat, her mouth was dry and she licked her lips feeling the stickiness of her lip gloss.

  “Do you like courgettes?” he asked staring wantonly at her breasts. “Mmm, they’re definitely my favourites. It’s the perfect size and shape, almost phallic – don’t you think?”

  Holding the bottom of the courgette in one hand he began to stroke it lengthways with his other hand and stared longingly into her eyes. “The skin is so soft and smooth and of course the taste is unbelievable.”

  She felt mesmerised as she stared back into his eyes and shakily grabbed the bench to steady herself because her legs were trembling with desire. Yes, this was definitely a come-on and instinctively played along with him.

  “Yeah, I suppose it’s true what they say that size does matter?” she tittered.

  He threw his head back and roared with laughter. She was having fun and enjoying flirting with him which was something she hadn’t done for a long time. Looking at his muscular hairy arms and his tanned glistening skin she thought of how sexy and gorgeous he was, and swallowed hard with desire.

  He stopped stroking the courgette and leaned in towards her tracing a finger down the side of her cheek and an aroma of rich, earthy peat filled her nostrils.

  “You've no idea what fun you can have with vegetables,” he drawled seductively throwing the courgettes into the basket.

  She felt dumbstruck and noticed out of the corner of her eye a small spider inching its way down the glass in front of the bench and although she wasn’t frightened of them at any other time she would warily be backing away from it, but she was so captivated by what he was doing she couldn’t move - her feet and body felt like they were cemented into the raffia matted floor.

  He picked up two plump, orange tomatoes and cupp
ed each one in the palms of his hands. “These are Juane Flammee tomatoes. They have the perfect small shape and firmness one would expect from a salad tomato but we must be extra careful with these delicate tomatoes.”

  Tenderly he squeezed and caressed the tomatoes until she felt she was about to burst. The urge and longing to be touched flooded through her body, her blood seemed to be pumping through her veins with excitement, and she felt a small droplet of perspiration run down her neck and trickle slowly between her breasts. Staring wantonly at him she licked her dry lips again then saw him follow the trickle of perspiration with his sultry eyes. She was under no illusion that he was certainly up for it, and sweet Jesus, so was she.

  “And the lovely sweet flavour is mild, and yet so intense,” he said slowly putting one of the tomatoes to his mouth and biting into it. Some of the red juice ran down his chin and a couple of the seeds dropped onto his black Vest. “Oops,” he muttered licking at the juice with his tongue.

  Transfixed now she reached over and touched the trickle of juice on his chin with her finger and he leant forward to kiss her full on the lips. He tasted of sweet tomato and she groaned quietly while he gently eased her up against the bench and before she knew what she was doing all the weeks of pent-up desire flooded through her and she greedily kissed him back. He slid his hands around her and into the back pockets of her denim shorts and squeezing her buttocks gently he pulled her into him. She felt his urgency hard against her and moaned in anticipation when it stretched nearly to the hip pocket of his jeans.

  “Oh God,” he breathed heavily, “I’ve been dreaming of these shorts since first thing this morning when I saw you in the garden.”

  Whether it was the reminder that he was, in fact, her next door neighbour that snapped her out of the hypnotic state she wasn't quite sure but suddenly she pulled back from him. Starting an affair with her neighbour probably wasn’t the brightest idea she'd ever had and stuttered, "I...I'm just not ready for this, Sam. Sorry, I mean, well, s…sorry."

  With one last squeeze of her bottom he reluctantly removed his hands from her shorts. "Hey, that's fine," he said stepping back from her. "Some other time?"

  Sighing heavily he clicked his tongue with disappointment at the rejection and stood back to the bench busying himself with the basket while she felt her cheeks burning hot with embarrassment.

  What the hell was wrong with her, she agonised and trying to get a grip on herself she pulled her vest down that had ridden up doing their snog. She was desperate to be with a man again and felt starved of physical and intimate contact but every time she got close to doing it she scared herself silly and backed off. Sighing, she wondered what Sarah's psychologist friend would say about her weird behaviour and then answered her own question with the obvious answer. Basically, she knew that although she was desperate for sex she still only wanted it to be with Tim.

  She walked behind Sam feeling like a ridiculous silly teenager while he carried the basket of vegetables to her car and she mumbled further apologies hoping that what had happened wouldn't affect their friendship. He reassured her it wouldn't and she placed a weekly order with him explaining how she was going to shred some of the vegetables to garnish the seafood buffet.

  Opening the car door for her and with his cheeky-chappy grin fixed firmly back in place he told her he really hoped they could meet up again sometime in the greenhouse. Giggling, she pulled away from the kerb and waved behind her shaking her head in amazement at his resilience.

  Chapter Twenty Seven

  The five o’clock alarm in the morning was a rude awakening and reminded Katie of her early working days as she rubbed the sleep out of her eyes. She needed to be at Billingsgate market to buy the freshest seafood possible and because the best choices were usually sold out by seven she had a quick wake-up shower, punched the post code into her sat-nav and drove through the empty streets.

  The city was a different place at this time in the morning and she marvelled at the quiet stillness surrounding the usual packed tourist spots on Tower Hill and along Canary Wharf which was where the party was to be held later that night. Inside the market it was buzzing with noise from merchants shouting and laughing, and dealing with throngs of bleary-eyed customers.

  The information board stated that the market held the largest selection of fish in the UK with daily arrivals from every coast from Aberdeen to Penzance. There were over 54 merchants, 98 stands, 30 shops, an 800 tonne freezer, a shellfish boiling room, and as she walked through the market hall making her purchases, the light salty smell of fresh fish filled her senses. She managed to buy the freshest seafood she could find and was pleased when it fitted the exact budget Andrew had given her for the buffet.

  Arriving home again she made a risotto, assembled and packed all the other dishes which Andrew had arranged to be collected late afternoon and breathed a sigh of relief when his chauffeur turned up at the door to carefully load all the cool boxes into his car boot. She shook her head in disbelief when he jumped back into his car and gave Katie a cheeky wink. Bloody hell, she murmured but couldn’t help feeling flattered especially because she was dressed in her old tracksuit and her face was covered in a thick green facial mask.

  She reckoned Andrew must be worth a mint if he could afford to have someone to run his errands and picked at some of the left over vegetables. She felt her cheeks flush with shame when she thought of the embarrassing time in the greenhouse with Sam and headed into her bathroom to get ready for the party.

  Her behaviour she decided had resembled a sixteen year old leading a guy on and then pulling away frightened to go all the way and of course she’d done the same with Doug the butcher. Christ, she had to get a handle on things or she’d end up with an unpleasant reputation as a tease and tried to remember the days before she’d met Tim when she’d been full of confidence with men. Smoothing on a smoky green eye shadow she wondered if this was a typical reaction to being dumped and maybe the floundering was simply a result of her self-confidence taking a tumble. She’d talk to the girls later about it she thought, slipping her dress carefully over her head.

  Sarah had rung to say she was running late and would meet them on board but Lisa was waiting for her at Canary Wharf Pier and she gasped in awe when she saw her. She looked stunning in a black, Bern Shaw evening dress that was off the shoulder and clung to her body leaving very little to the imagination. Katie wore her short, royal blue cocktail dress that shimmered in the dark with hundreds of glittering sequins. She’d piled her hair up with a matching sequin clasp and her silver stiletto heels completed the outfit perfectly while she walked with Lisa onto the boat trying to match her strong confident strides.

  "I have a feeling we're in for a really good time tonight," Lisa said walking through a bar full of men. Nearly every man turned to stare at Lisa, and Katie noticed that Lisa’s usual slight air of indifference expression was coming across as provocative tonight rather than aloof - it was obviously driving them crazy. She was just going to comment to Lisa about the number of men in ratio to women when she realised this was normal for a male divorce party and if she had been in the mood to find herself another man, which she wasn’t, then this would be the perfect venue.

  Following Lisa they made their way up to the top deck where thankfully there were mixed couples and more women standing chatting in groups.

  Lisa spotted Andrew and called out a greeting. He was standing holding the rail on deck staring out to Canary Wharf but turned and swung around to face them when he heard her voice. He smiled warmly when Lisa introduced her.

  "Aah, nice to meet you in person," he said pumping her hand and kissing Lisa’s cheek. "Hope you received my payment online?"

  She reassured him everything had been collected earlier in the afternoon by his chauffeur and thanked him for his prompt payment while admiring his expensive tailored suit and crisp white shirt. Lisa fawned over him while they chatted then went to talk to some friends leaving Katie alone with him. Within minutes of meeting hi
m she'd decided his air of pomposity and his haughty voice was irritating and couldn’t quite decide whether he was ugly or not - he certainly wasn’t what she would call nice looking.

  "So, Katie, will you have some champagne?" he asked clicking his fingers at a passing waiter. "Bring me a bottle of Dom Perignon, not the cheap fizzy rubbish you're giving to my guests.” He bellowed with laughter and drained the glass of whisky in his hand. He was obviously hell-bent on celebrating his divorce big time and she wasn’t sure if she wanted to get into conversation with him but because the girls were nowhere in sight and she really wanted his recommendation she politely discussed her new business plan with him.

  “Been there, done that, and got the T-shirt,” he drawled arrogantly. "But, we all have to start somewhere, I suppose."

  The waiter arrived with the champagne before she could think of a polite reply and was handed a glass that she sipped from and he gulped at as if he was in a desert. She tried a few times to join in his conversation but found it difficult to get a word in edgeways while he droned on about the size and wealth of his business, and the more he drank the more he talked.

  She was beginning to see why his wife had dumped him and run off with an American basketball player to Canada and then an old saying of her mum’s came to her mind, the bigger they are the harder they fall. He could definitely learn a lesson from Sam about how to accept divorce, she mused. And when he started bragging about his Range Rover and other three cars she decided she would have to get away from him.

  Waiting for him to take a gulp of his champagne she butted in. “I’m going to head through and eat because I’m starving, and this champagne is going straight to my head. Do you like seafood?”

  “Yes, I love it. That’s why I asked you to do mainly seafood for the party,” he said. “The best lobster I’ve ever tasted was at a party over at Elton John's place…”

 

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