Berry Flavours

by Fraser, Darry

  Clancy finished up in a hurry, flipped off the taps and stepped out to dry off.

  For God’s sake, it all happens around here.

  She donned the nightshirt, slipped her bare feet back into her chef’s crocs and wandered to the lounge room, her dirty clothes tucked under her arm.

  Rommy was barking like a mad thing inside the house. She settled him down, paced with him for a while until they looked at each other and flopped on the settee together. There was nothing for it, without a car all she could do was to wait.

  She worried for a few minutes longer and finally gave up. It could be hours before she’d hear anything, or see anyone... and she needed sleep.

  Best thing to do would be head back to the bedsit.

  Poor Heidi. Clancy hoped the ambulance would get to her before the baby decided it was coming out... and before Berry had to deliver it.

  Heidi! Having the baby!

  No chef in Berry’s restaurant.

  Me! Oh my God! There are things I need to be doing—

  Wait. It’s all been re-set for tomorrow, there’s staff to do service, I can surely to God get the orders out using her menu. No problem. There are only thirty customers. It’s Christmas Eve. They’ll practically look after themselves.

  Don’t panic. It’ll be a piece of cake.

  She stood in the lounge of Berry’s house and stared out into the darkening night. She’d never make it to the bedsit in this light. If she kipped down now, here, and got a reasonable few hours sleep, she’d get through tomorrow. That’s the least she could do, for everybody.

  She tracked back to Berry’s office, dumped her soiled clothes on the floor, crawled into the sleeping possie she had the night before and drifted off, happily aware Rommy had settled himself on the floor alongside her.

  This time her last thought before sleep was how Berry had looked at her when she was in the shower.

  *

  She vaguely heard Rommy stir, a few snuffles, shuffles and a swish of his tail on her leg and then silence.

  Someone kissed her forehead, whispered in her ear, “We have a baby boy.”

  She prised one eye open and saw Berry kneeling beside her. “Did you do it?”

  “Mainly Heidi. I just caught him.” He brushed her hair out of her eyes. “I’m going to bed for a few hours. Wake me when you get up.”

  “Okay.” She could hardly fend off the sleep. “Goodnight, Berry.”

  “Goodnight, Clancy.”

  Another wave of his big hand over her head and he was gone.

  Chapter Thirteen

  She didn’t wake him when she rose.

  She fed Rommy, showered quickly, and headed straight for the restaurant.

  Heidi, bless her socks, was a good one for lists and check sheets and procedures. The only thing Clancy would have to hone was her plating up. An unfamiliar menu and style, she’d have to deliver cleverly.

  Then she’d have to fit in all the prep for tomorrow’s Christmas lunch that wasn’t their Christmas lunch.

  But that shouldn’t be too difficult either. Berry had asked a couple of kitchen staff to come in two hours earlier than normal today so she’d have plenty of help. No one grumbled, it was all money in their pockets.

  A couple of times amidst the new yoghurt terrine, the pavlovas, the extra bucket of spuds to peel she heard her phone chirrup as text messages came in. She’d get them in her break – oh, a break – and get back to whoever it was. Old mates on Christmas Eve would have to wait.

  With her hands in the sink, and loading and unloading the small commercial dishwasher, she wondered how her dad was faring. He would already be sweating in the kitchen doing lunch and then preparing for dinner tonight plus the big lunch tomorrow.

  Suddenly, it was important to speak to him; to talk to her dad. She couldn’t just yet. Still, it nagged at her late into the morning.

  Berry walked into the restaurant at around two o’clock.

  Pauline and Tim, the two staff members who’d been called in, congratulated him as if he were the baby’s father. Everyone laughed and joked at once and Clancy straightened up to watch him approach.

  Her belly did that funny little flip again and she could feel her smile all the way down to her toes.

  Yes, he looked tired, but it was an exhilarated exhaustion. His green eyes were bright, his smile to her in return was broad and he held her in an enveloping hug, generous and uninhibited in front of the others.

  It set the mood for the afternoon, and a bright happy atmosphere descended. Berry just kept laughing, and shaking his head.

  Tim stuck the obligatory ‘It’s a Boy!’ sign on the main door and Pauline prepared Berry a huge mug of strong coffee, begging him to give up the details of last night.

  He’d found Heidi’s car nose first nudging a tree down a very slight dip off the main track. She’d got herself into the back seat and the baby was well and truly on the way by the time he got to her.

  Neither of them knew what to do, (except what they’d seen on the telly) so they let nature dictate and it wasn’t long after, maybe minutes later (but it felt like hours) the baby popped out head first (luckily, they both thought) and slithered into Berry’s waiting hands. He had nothing to cut the cord, so he wrapped him in one of the towels he’d taken, helped Heidi hold him and they waited for the ambos.

  Easy.

  “Bet you were scared.”

  “Yep. But ‘scared’ is a real understatement.”

  “What’s his name?”

  “Don’t know.”

  “Was it messy?”

  “Yep.”

  “Wow.”

  “Hero.”

  “Nup. I nearly fainted. There was a lot of yelling, and that was just from me.”

  Clancy ploughed on in the kitchen. Pauline helped settle her nerves, explained style, loaded the prep benches and made coffees.

  Berry stacked the fridges, Tim checked the seating and two other staff arrived to take up the last minute jobs. A very late afternoon break, one last check of the tables and the first members of the Christmas Eve party arrived.

  Berry’s heroism had gotten around the district pretty quickly so apart from the festive season’s jocularity, dinner was a great affair celebrating Heidi’s baby and his safe arrival.

  Clancy got past her nerves and with Pauline steering the ship, she delivered dinner to her thirty customers. The raucous applause for her lemon yoghurt terrine made her previous panic all worthwhile.

  Berry ushered the last of the stragglers out at eleven p.m. and just after the staff left with hugs all around for Christmas, Clancy hit a wall.

  Her eyes watered with fatigue, her bones ached, her feet needed a spa and her shoulders felt like bricks.

  She slumped on a stool at the bar, rested her head in her arms.

  “Don’t go to sleep there, I’ll never get you home.” Berry pulled up alongside her. “You did a fantastic job tonight, Clancy.”

  She looked up bleary eyed. “Thanks. I’m so tired I could sleep for a week.”

  He looked at her a moment, touched her arm. “One for the road, then?”

  She opted for a glass of shiraz, but not a big one, she qualified, and took it gratefully. “About tomorrow.”

  Berry glanced at her over the rim of his glass.

  “I’ll be in here as early as I possibly can. Is there anything other than the obvious you need me to do?” She lifted her head and took a sip. Loved it all over again.

  “I should be asking you that. Look, Mac’s people aren’t expecting table service, just a table with plenty of food on it and plenty of drinks. Hopefully Marlie already explained the situation and we’ll just reinforce that. I’m not going to be worried about it. We shouldn’t have many issues.”

  “Famous last words.”

  “I’m not going to worry about it and neither will you. Mac won’t have any objections, that’s for sure.” He touched her arm again. “Maybe tomorrow night we could have a Christmas drink ourselves.”

&
nbsp; “The drinks you have when you don’t do Christmas drinks.”

  “They’re the ones. So come on, drink your drink and I will walk you home, tuck you in and leave you alone. Fair?”

  “Berry, tonight I’m just so tired—”

  “I know. Me too. I’m still on a baby-high. Reckon I’ll come crashing down any moment.” He rested an elbow on the bar and looked at her. “One thing I don’t want to do, like you said, is mess things up.” He held up a hand when she began to reply. “And rushing into random sleeping arrangements when neither of us is in any shape is not what I want. I’d like this to start the way we’d like it to continue.”

  Her cheeks warmed. “Let’s get through tomorrow.” She left her glass half full and stood up. Her phone cheeped again and she took it out of her pocket.

  Berry tidied up after them and hovered in the doorway waiting to lock up.

  “My dad,” she told him as they closed the restaurant. “I might have the chat-I-have-to-have before I hit the sack.”

  They wandered in silence to the bedsit. Berry pushed open the door, switched on the light and faced her. “Goodnight, Clancy. See you tomorrow.”

  She stepped into his space and pressed her lips to his. Their hug was warm and long and she felt his body stir against hers as she tucked her head under his chin.

  “Something doesn’t know it’s tired,” Berry said, kissed her again and was gone before she could change her mind.

  She showered under water as hot as she could stand. Slipped between the sheets in Berry’s old nightshirt and rang her father.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Clancy was as ready as she could be with no staff and forty-five Christmas lunch customers coming in to a restaurant they hadn’t booked.

  She’d been in the kitchen since five, readying the trays of vegetables, meat, trays with small jugs of sauces and savoury marmalades, and dishes of pâté and homemade crackers, baskets of breads and pots of softened butter.

  She’d moved tables and chairs so the restaurant and its fare would resemble a medieval feast, making the delivery of lunch service extremely easy on her and Berry.

  Every timber chopping board in the place was situated on the long tables waiting to accommodate sizzling pans of rare, roasted, basted, and herb encrusted joints straight from the oven.

  Her pavlovas were waiting patiently at the back of the kitchen, and the accompanying thick local cream and fresh berry fruit topping sat in the coolroom ready for their appearance.

  Her poor man’s Christmas pud was simmering in an enormous pot she’d found at the back of the pantry and her cheat’s custard (a packet job) and the brandy sauce (her own), were on standby.

  Berry had kept the coffee up to her. They exchanged a few comments here and there, bantered when time allowed, accidentally bumped hips whenever they possibly could. Neither wanted to distract the other. Much.

  Berry said “Merry Christmas,” and Clancy said, “Likewise,” both grinned like kids, but that was all they had time for.

  Berry stacked the fridges, did the dishes, filled water pitchers for the tables. By midday they were ready. In another thirty minutes, guests would be arriving.

  The slow roasted meats were baking as they should, the vegetables coming along nicely. Clancy had prepared huge salads but there was hardly enough time to do anything more on the spot.

  “I’m already looking for a sleep.”

  “We’ll be fine, now. You’ve done a huge amount of work and it looks great. We’ll just let the day carry itself.”

  They heard a vehicle pull up.

  “Looks like we have early ones,” Berry said and hesitated before he went to check. “Uh, I meant to ask, how did it go with your dad last night on the phone?”

  “It was fine.” She looked away for a moment. “He misses me.”

  When she looked back, Berry nodded at her, and left with a small frown on his face.

  Clancy inhaled, looked over the fully set-up restaurant once again. There wouldn’t be time for any more adjustments to be made and they’d just have to do the best with what they’d done. She straightened up, buttoned her collar and made for the ovens.

  It was time to get the meat rested and to let the fun begin.

  *

  “You haven’t even raised a sweat.” Berry juggled another three baskets of bread before heading out to the tables.

  He’d opened plenty of wines and had beers in an ice-filled elevated crate at the end of each table for people to help themselves.

  Clancy was feeling good about it all. The meat had gone out and the guests had nominated ‘fathers’ to carve. The women served vegetables and the salads were passed around. It looked a bit like a Country Women’s Association meeting.

  They told Clancy they were a farmer’s group from the other end of the island and they were over the moon to have somewhere to go. No one cared it wasn’t silver service, as long as the food kept coming.

  She glanced at the clock – only one-thirty – and the hard work was just about done. She checked Berry and he was almost running. But he was grinning at the same time, so clearly enjoying himself.

  Clancy was hefting the last hot vegetable tray out of the oven when a huge bulk of a man blocked her from leaving the kitchen.

  Somehow, Mac Thomas had both his eyes on her. She wondered how he did that.

  “Mac.” She didn’t quite know what to do about him but she needed to get the hot tray out to the tables.

  And from behind Mac, Greg appeared and simply held out his hands to take the tray from her. She let him, oven mitts and all. She watched him deliver it to where Berry had directed.

  Clancy looked back at Mac, dusted down her jacket. “Are you all right?”

  “I’m all right,” he boomed. “Think I was dead, didja?”

  She rolled her eyes, side stepped him and glanced around the tables. Where was Berry?

  “What’s this idea?” He waved a great hand over the restaurant area.

  “What?” Where was Berry?

  “These are all my customers.” He hadn’t advanced any further into the kitchen, but he still managed to take up all the space and most of the oxygen.

  “Yes. They are.”

  He squinted at her and his boss-eye shot off to the left. “Whaddya think you’re doing?”

  This was no good. She straightened up. “I’m feeding your customers your meat and veggies. Meat and veggies – plain cooked, and cooked properly and given to your customers... the ones you couldn’t feed and water. Then,” she said warming to her subject, “I’m going to serve them pavlova for dessert – the simple kind you can spell – as well as a Christmas pud in the traditional style and then a very sophisticated, gourmet lemon yoghurt terrine in the panna cotta style – which you may not be able to spell.” She stood with her hands on her hips. “And we could possibly get you seated if you thought you might like to stay and behave.”

  He, too, stood upright. Astounded.

  That was when Marlie skidded into the restaurant kitchen. “Mac, I told you to wait for me.”

  Clancy, whose eyes narrowed, pinned her. “Why aren’t you with Heidi?” She glanced at Mac and back to Marlie again. “And why do I get the feeling that he,” she thumbed in Mac’s direction, “doesn’t know about any of this?”

  “Know about what?” Mac bellowed.

  Only a slight drop in the conversations in the restaurant was noticed.

  “Now, Mac—” Marlie ignored Clancy’s glare.

  “Mac.” Berry had come back to the kitchen and was handing more baskets of bread to Greg. “Welcome to this little tin-pot affair.”

  Mac rounded, which meant in the kitchen everyone had to move quickly. “Lockett, I swear to God—”

  “Marlie, either find yourselves a table or get the hell out of here.”

  “What’s going on?” Mac thundered. “These are all my customers!” he roared.

  Marlie took his arm, but that didn’t do too much.

  Greg had returned after br
ead deliveries. “Dad, everyone is having a great time. Don’t do your chewy now. It’s embarrassing.”

  “What the fuck—”

  Berry moved fast and stood nose to nose with Mac, his voice low. “You get your dirt mouth out of my kitchen, Thomas. This has just saved your arse, mate, so don’t go blowing shit up my nose now. Get to a table or get out. Marlie can let you know what all this means before you make a fool of yourself in front of all your mates.”

  Greg had his father’s arm and he and Marlie steered a belligerent, sweaty Mac Thomas out of Berry’s kitchen. They got him to a table away from the main party.

  Clancy saw Mac fling off his son’s arm and squirm out of Marlie’s grip. But the three of them sat.

  “Goddamn him if he has another heart attack in here.” Berry leaned on the bench alongside Clancy. “You okay?”

  She burst out laughing. “Yes, but a bit shocked. He was the last person I expected.” She swiped a cloth over the stainless steel bench and grabbed new plates and cutlery. “I’ll get them sorted, you don’t have to.”

  “Might be a good thing for the moment.” Then he answered the loud calls for more wine and amidst the merriment of the raucous, happy group, he kept his eye on Clancy as she headed for the Thomas’s. She stacked Mac’s table with an assortment of everything the major party had on their tables. She opened a red and poured three generous glasses (after all, it was Mac’s wine), and she delivered hot bread with lashings of butter. Bugger the heart condition.

  She never said a word and neither did they.

  Good thing she wasn’t a Christmas person. No cheer at this table.

  Clancy retreated to the kitchen after stopping a couple of times as the guests congratulated her. It was time to plate up the pav, the pud and the terrine and to load the cold bain-marie for self-serve. She’d get filter coffee on – she’d never get lattés, espressos and long blacks done all by herself. It just couldn’t be helped.

  She glanced at Mac’s table. Greg was gesturing wildly at his father and Marlie was putting her two cents worth in as well. It looked as if Mac was staring at her in the kitchen, but she couldn’t be sure. That funny eye was a real trap and both eyes were back to each going their own way.