‘I see.’ Jack looked at her. ‘Now, how big is this towel?’
‘What do you mean?’ Ninni grinned at him.
‘Is it big enough to fool around in? Without anyone noticing?’ Jack pulled her closer. The towel was absolutely not big enough for what he had in mind.
Ninni jumped up. ‘Come with me,’ she said.
Jack followed her into the boathouse. It was a lot more messy than his – loads of rope and the walls packed with fishing gear. A huge rowboat made from wood, placed on rafters in the middle, caught his attention.
‘I hope you don’t mean in the boat? It looks damn uncomfortable,’ he said to make her laugh.
Ninni took his hand and pulled him with her. ‘Up here.’ She climbed a small ladder, disappearing through a door. ‘Watch your head.’
He followed her up, curious as to what was up there. He stopped on top of the ladder and looked in. ‘What is this? A guest house?’
‘No, this is my place. Sort of a tree house, if you know what I mean.’
Ninni sat on a narrow bed with her legs stretched out. She cocked her head. ‘Are you coming?’
Jack climbed up the rest of the ladder and joined her on the bed. ‘This is very practical,’ he said, letting his fingers run over her warm skin.
‘We are a practical people,’ Ninni said, laughing softly.
‘You know, I thought you were going to teach me fishing today,’ he said.
‘There’s plenty of time for that when you come back,’ Ninni said.
She pushed away all thoughts of doctors and every word Britt had said. It wasn’t true, anyway.
Chapter 17
Ninni stared at the doctor, wondering who the crazy one was, herself or the doctor. ‘Sorry?’
‘You’re pregnant,’ the doctor said.
Ninni had no idea how to respond. For some reason she was angry with Britt for sending her to the surgery. Which was absurd.
‘Erm … I wasn’t really expecting it to be true,’ she finally said.
The doctor looked sympathetic. ‘Oh, I see. You’re not happy. Well, you have options, you know. It’s not too late to terminate if that’s what you want to do. When was your last period?’
Ninni tried to think, but her brain didn’t function. ‘I’ve always been irregular, so I don’t have an exact date. Sometimes it jumps a month or two. I never gave it a second thought, to be honest.’ She felt like a complete idiot and, from the look on the doctor’s face, she thought so too.
‘Oh, I see. In that case, I should think you’re about eight to nine weeks in. That gives you, at the most, two to three weeks to make up your mind.’
Ninni thought about Karl, trying to count back to when this could have happened. She had received the photograph from his wife an hour before he’d arrived, and hadn’t even let him into the flat.
It made her sick thinking about it.
Ninni cleared her throat. ‘I’m on the pill, for God’s sake. Doesn’t that make this almost impossible?’
The doctor smiled. She had a kind face. ‘I think the magic word here is almost. Even the pill isn’t one hundred per cent, I’m afraid. I think it’s about one in one hundred, if I remember correctly. Which is good, unless you’re the one, then of course it’s not.’
Ninni felt sick again. The doctor handed her a few leaflets to take home and gave her a friendly pat on the hand. ‘Don’t worry; it’s not the end of the world, whatever you choose. Although I should tell you that getting pregnant doesn’t get easier as you get older.’
It was such an absurd statement that Ninni burst into tears.
The doctor patted her on the hand again. ‘I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that. Tell you what, go home, sleep on it, then come back in a few days and we’ll talk it over when you’re a bit more used to the idea. By then you will have loads of questions. For the morning sickness, get some fresh ginger and make a brew. It will help. I’m also going to give you a list of things you should do, in case you decide to keep it.’
‘I drank half a glass of really horrible red wine a few days ago, and at least two or three beers. Will that … could that do any damage to …?’ Ninni bit her lip. She couldn’t get her mouth to say baby.
‘I doubt it. The risk is higher the more you drink. Do you smoke?’
Ninni shook her head. ‘No, never have.’
‘Good. Listen, you’re young and healthy. There’s no reason why you shouldn’t have a good pregnancy and a healthy baby at the end of it. Promise me that you’ll consider all your options.’
She followed Ninni out and gave her a quick hug. ‘Good luck, and please come back in a day or two.’
Ninni stood still outside the doctor’s surgery for a few minutes, more dizzy than ever. This is beyond horrible, she thought.
She found her way to Haraldsgaten and sank down on one of the benches in the small park in front of Hotel Saga. Her knees felt impossibly weak and her head was spinning out of control.
Now what? She didn’t want to tell Jack about this. It was obviously not his baby. Then there was Karl. She didn’t want to tell him either. Oh, God, she thought. Do I have to tell him if I decide to keep it? That will tie me to him for ever.
The ramifications made her nauseous and dizzy. She pushed Karl out of her mind as much as possible.
Thank God Jack is in London. It will give me a few days to figure out what to do. Until then, perhaps I can sit here and not move, Ninni thought. Until it passes. Until I’m not pregnant any more or until I wake up from this nightmare.
***
Jack paused outside the restaurant where he had worked for the last decade. He had been gone for a few weeks and it felt as if he had been gone for years.
London was so hot, he felt as if the air was sticking to him. And yet he stood still, staring at the restaurant front with its exclusive look. The only guests who could afford to eat in there were people who didn’t care what the bill said at the end of a meal.
He caught a glimpse of himself in the door glass. He was dressed in a T-shirt and jeans. Coming in a suit would have made it all so formal. And it was also a statement, even if it was a childish one.
His mind filled with memories of the time he had spent in there, first on work experience, then as an apprentice, until he’d left for three years at Le Cordon Bleu in France. But he’d returned as head chef because Roland had promised he would eventually become a partner. It was a place he’d thought he would be for the rest of his career. And now it would finally happen.
He would get what he was owed.
For a second Jack considered not going inside – leave it all behind. Return to Ninni and enjoy life as an island farmer. All of a sudden London felt noisy and so full of people he could barely breathe.
He decided against it immediately. They owe me an explanation and the damn partnership, he thought. I want what I’ve always wanted, what I was promised. I’ve earned it.
Still feeling angry, he pushed open the door and went inside. This early, the restaurant was quiet. The dinner rush was still a couple of hours away. From the kitchen came the smells of delicious cooking and the sounds of food prepping. Jack couldn’t help smiling. People talking and laughing, pots and pans clanking, cupboards slamming and hissing from the cooking on the hob. It was all so familiar.
The restaurant was empty. Jack stood for a moment and looked around. It was ridiculous to expect things to have changed. After all, he had only been gone for a few weeks. And yet he felt different.
‘Jack, there you are, darling. It’s so wonderful to see you.’
Jack turned around. Fedra looked the same as always. Hair coiffed, perfect make-up and those big brown eyes he had drowned in once. Well, more than once, if he was honest. Now they seemed calculating and cold, despite the huge smile.
It wasn’t fair, he knew that. Their affair hadn’t lasted very long, and there had been no hard feelings between them when it had ended. At least not from his side.
‘You look nice,’ he said, pu
tting on his best smile.
Fedra looked him over. ‘I can’t say the same about you. What happened? Have you gone native on your little Viking island?’
Jack smiled. ‘Perhaps. Now, what is so important that you had to summon me to London?’
‘I told you. Daddy wants to talk. He’s in the kitchen. He told me to bring you to him when you arrived.’
Jack shrugged. ‘I’m here.’
She walked in front of him and he knew what she was doing. Her insane high heels made her walk with a swing in her hips that he knew was supposed to be sexy. It didn’t work on him any more.
The three cooks working in the kitchen stopped what they were doing when they entered. Roland held a spoon in his hand, obviously in the process of tasting the contents of the pot. His face lit up when he saw Jack.
‘There you are, my boy. How are you, Jack?’
Jack narrowed his eyes. ‘I’m fine. I see you’re feeling better.’ He kept his voice neutral. The kitchen brought back a lot of good memories, and a few not so good ones. He knew every pot and pan in there, every plate on the hob, every grill, every dish. It felt so … comfortable.
Roland tasted whatever was in the pot. ‘More salt,’ he said to one of the chefs. ‘And a pinch of pepper, please. How can you cook if you can’t season the food?’
Jack waited and watched. Roland talked to the new chef in the same way he had talked to him. Patronising and charming. Still so French after fifty years in London, he seemed like he’d arrived the day before.
Roland put the spoon in the sink and came over to him with outstretched arms. ‘It’s so good to see you again, mon cher garçon.’ He hugged Jack and kissed him on both cheeks.
‘Why am I here, Roland?’ Jack pulled away, annoyed with the niceties.
Roland stepped back with an expression of mock surprise. ‘Straight to the point, I see. You haven’t changed a bit.’
‘I left a few weeks ago, Roland. That’s not much time to change,’ Jack said.
‘No, no, I detect a difference in you. I told you, years ago, that you should always make sure you have a holiday every year. The time in Norway seems to have done wonders for you. That’s good. It means that you are rested and eager to come back to work, oui?’
Jack smiled slowly. ‘Are you offering me my job back? You’re going to have to do a lot better than that.’
Roland pulled a face. ‘I’m sorry we parted on such angry terms, but all this bitterness will do you more harm than good, I’m afraid. We can do better than that, I’m sure. I have a proposal for you. Will you hear me out?’
Jack looked at the other two chefs in the kitchen. They were staring at them, curious and quiet. Fedra leaned her hip against the counter, watching him with a small smile.
‘Let’s talk in the restaurant,’ Roland said.
Jack realised they had wanted him to see the kitchen, to become nostalgic about it. Were they always this transparent? Probably. He decided to let them play it out.
Roland chose a table by the window. He was dressed in his usual handmade suit, a little scarf perfectly folded in the front pocket and his hair as perfect as his daughter’s. As always.
‘Can you bring us coffee, Fedra? Jack looks like he could do with a cup, and so do I.’
‘You’re not allowed to drink coffee, Daddy. I’ll bring you tea.’
Roland frowned. ‘It’s a terrible day when your children start bossing you around.’
Fedra scoffed. ‘Get used to it, Daddy. Don’t upset him, Jack. He’s still not well. Even if he pretends he is.’
Jack waited until she left before turning to Roland. ‘Is it true? You’re ill?’
Roland shrugged. ‘I have a little trouble with the old ticker. It’s not something to worry about.’
‘Fedra is worried,’ Jack said.
‘She’s my daughter and a woman,’ Roland said, dismissing the whole thing. ‘Now, let’s talk about you.’
‘Let’s. Why don’t you start with why I’m here? I hope I haven’t wasted my time. It’s a bloody complicated trip from the island to get here.’
Roland folded his hands on the table in front of him. He looked at Jack. ‘I rarely admit my mistakes, Jack. I don’t see the point in regret. But I made a mistake when I didn’t offer you the partnership. You deserved it, and I failed you. I’m sorry, my boy.’ Roland looked serious, but Jack found himself wondering what the old bastard was up to.
‘When you decided not to keep your word, you mean?’ Jack had no intention of making it easy for him.
‘That’s a bit harsh, don’t you think?’ Roland looked offended.
‘We had an agreement, you and I. I think you called it a gentleman’s agreement at one point. Which is also why we don’t have a proper contract, because you made me believe we didn’t need one, and I was stupid enough to trust you,’ Jack said, watching him closely. ‘Of course, now I’m happy we never had a contract.’
Roland’s face darkened for a second, before he put on the smile again. ‘Well, yes, in hindsight everything is easy, isn’t it?’
‘Why am I here, Roland?’ Jack was getting fed up with the whole thing.
‘I have an offer that will make you happy,’ Roland said.
He was interrupted by Fedra coming back with tea and some biscuits. She put the tray on the table and handed them their cups. ‘Have you told him yet?’ she asked her father.
Jack looked at her. She seemed annoyed and frayed, and didn’t return the look.
‘No, I was getting to it when you came, my darling. What is this?’ Roland looked at the teacup with disdain.
‘Herbal tea. No caffeine, remember? That also means no black tea. I shouldn’t have to explain this every time you want a cup of tea, Daddy.’
‘I’m hoping that one day you will show mercy and give me a proper espresso,’ he said with a wicked smile.
Fedra sat down next to her father. ‘Go on then, tell him.’
Jack kept still. Let them talk, he thought.
‘We want you to come back, to come home, Jack. I propose that you and Fedra share the restaurant,’ Roland said, looking as if he were giving him the world. ‘Of course Fedra would run the place, but you would be running the kitchen as you see fit.’
Jack looked at them. They seemed so pleased with themselves. Something fell into place in his head. ‘In other words, we keep it the way it was. Except that this time you’ll have me and my recipes.’
Roland frowned. ‘Yes, like before. We realise that we acted too harshly.’
Jack smiled. ‘You’re not getting the Michelin star, are you? Because of me? Or, rather, because I’m not here.’
He knew he was right when he saw their expressions. He leaned forward. ‘How stupid do you think I am, Roland? Do you really think I’ll just come back like some kind of obedient servant because you decided you need me after all?’
Roland narrowed his eyes. ‘You ungrateful little shit,’ he said. ‘I trained you. I taught you everything you know. And this is how you thank me? By abandoning us now?’
Fedra put her hand over her father’s. ‘Calm down. He wants something, Daddy. What do you want, Jack?’
He smiled then. ‘I want what I was promised. Full partnership, my name on the restaurant front, and I want to run it – without Fedra looking over my shoulder. And I want a huge bonus when I get you that Michelin star.’
‘That’s outrageous. You were perfectly fine with me running it before,’ Fedra said sharply.
‘Yes, but that was before I knew you would screw me over. Now I know that you can’t be trusted. Either of you,’ Jack said. He pushed the chair away from the table. ‘I’m going home to my dad, and in a couple of days I’m going back to Norway. You have until then to think about it.’
Before either of them managed to react, he was outside, breathing in fresh air. Or as fresh as it could be in the middle of a London heatwave.
He called Ninni.
***
Ninni looked at the phone display and hes
itated. She didn’t want to talk to Jack, not now. She was still in shock.
So she ignored the call and put the phone back into her pocket. The ferry docked at the island and she hurried onto land, pulled the hood of her rain jacket down over her face and almost ran up the road towards the house.
Right now, she couldn’t talk to anyone, especially anyone sympathetic. She relaxed when she’d put the houses behind her, relieved that the rain was keeping everyone indoors.
She opened the door and Frikk threw himself at her.
‘Take it easy, you silly dog. I’ve just been gone for a few hours.’
He jumped around her, as he always did when she left him alone. And, as always, he made her feel better.
‘I’m happy to see you’re feeling better,’ she said.
Ninni took off her wet clothes and went into the kitchen.
‘What do you think, Frikk? Think we should have a baby? Would you like that? Someone who would pull your ears and tail, throw up on you and jump on you with a full nappy?’
The dog perked his ears, listening to her voice. Ninni smiled. ‘I bet you would, you goofy doggo.’
She threw him a dog biscuit and made a cup of coffee. With the mug in one hand and a sweet bun in the other, she made herself comfortable on the sofa in the lounge. Frikk jumped up and rested his chin on her leg.
‘You are lucky, sweetie. You don’t have to make decisions like this.’
Ninni pulled out the mobile and looked at it. Two messages from Jack. Please call.
She couldn’t postpone it for much longer, and decided to call him.
‘Hi,’ he said, answering at once. ‘How are you doing?’
‘I’m fine. I’m actually on the sofa with a blanket and Frikk. How did it go?’
He laughed, sounding so happy and carefree. ‘They offered me the same conditions as before. I told them it’s a full partnership or nothing, and said I’m returning to Norway the day after tomorrow.’
‘That’s good. Are they going to give it to you, do you think?’ Ninni wasn’t sure what to think of it. It was obvious that he wanted to go home to London, of course he did.
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