by Sherri Bryan
“Did she tell them why she’d had to leave the other restaurant?” asked Roy.
“Yes, she told them everything, apparently,” said Ava. “It was only because she’d started having therapy that they took her on, but they didn’t stand for any nonsense—she had to start at the bottom and work her way up. She had to earn her cooking stripes all over again, but that’s when her career really took off, because that’s when she realised she wanted to be a world-class chef. After a year, she left The President, went all over the world, and ended up back here in St. Eves fifteen years ago.”
Roy nodded as he tucked into his lunch like he hadn’t eaten for a month. He reached for a flaky apple pastry and dunked it into a mug of coffee. “Well, not that I’m condoning what she did to that guy, but what’s done is done, and she’s obviously doing alright now, so good for her.”
“Yeah, good for her,” repeated Izzy, punching the air. “Girl Power!”
“I’m just popping to the bathroom,” said Harriett. “Then I expect we’d better get back to the kitchen. I won’t be long.”
The dining room had two doors; one which led back into the kitchen and the other which led into a small corridor where the bathrooms and a cloakroom could be found. As she pushed open the door to the ladies’ room, she heard raised voices coming from the kitchen, and went back to listen.
“Monique must be bluffing, don’t you think?” said Larissa’s shaky voice. “How could Roman have found out about us?”
There was a pause before Gavin’s voice broke the silence. “She’s not bluffing. He found out because when we went out for your birthday, he and Monique were in the Italian restaurant on the marina. You and I rolled out of the pub and walked right past them on our way home: if you recall, we weren’t exactly behaving like platonic friends, were we?”
“But how do you know he saw us?” asked Larissa.
“Because he told me the next day. We were talking about the financial forecast for next year and he suddenly asked me how long you and I been seeing each other. It caught me completely off-guard.”
“Oh, Gavin! You didn’t tell him, did you?”
“Well, that wasn’t the intention, but he put me on the spot. I tried to deny it but you know what Roman’s like. He can see through a lie at ten paces. And why is there never enough damn sugar for my coffee in this place?! It’s a kitchen, for God’s sake!”
“Oh, stop shouting!” said Larissa. “There’s some more sugar in the cupboard next to the fridge. And don’t change the subject. Why didn’t you tell me he’s known about us for so long?”
“Because I didn’t want to worry you.”
“Well I’m worried now, so that plan didn’t work out, did it?” Larissa’s voice rose an octave. “What did he say? Did he say he was going to fire us? Did he say anything about me?”
“No, he just said he was very disappointed,” said Gavin, “and that he’d have to think about what he was going to do about it. He gave me a long lecture about how he’d thought I was the right guy to manage this place, but now he’s not so sure. I reckon he was just trying to make me sweat, though. Considering I thought I was going to get the sack, I think I got off pretty lucky.”
“Maybe he’s getting soft in his old age?” said Larissa, her voice hopeful.
Gavin laughed. “Not likely. If anything, the more successful he gets, the more ruthless he gets. But he didn’t fire me on the spot, so maybe he’s having second thoughts about his ridiculous rule that staff shouldn’t ‘fraternise’ with each other outside of work.”
“I can’t believe it,” said Larissa. “We’ve been so careful for so long, and the one time we let our guard slip, that grumpy git was there to see it.”
“We weren’t careful the other day, were we?” said Gavin. “When that bloody woman walked in on us. Look, stop worrying so much. If Roman was going to do anything about it, he’d have done it by now.”
“But neither of us can afford to lose these jobs,” whined Larissa. “What if he does decide to get rid of us? And what about your shares in the school? He can’t take them away, can he?”
Gavin swore loudly. “Look, I told you not to worry. If Roman even thinks about taking away our jobs or my shares, I won’t be responsible for my actions. You know I can’t afford to lose this salary, so if he’s planning to get rid of me, he’d better think again. Anyway, I don’t know how, but I’ll take care of it, okay? Right, I need a pee before the afternoon session gets started.”
As Harriett heard the sound of Gavin’s footsteps approaching the door, she slipped away into the ladies’ room.
____________
At precisely four-thirty, the door to the kitchen opened and Roman burst in, followed by Monique with her tape recorder, and Olivia, the expression on her face completely unreadable.
“I’m sure no introductions are necessary, but in case they are, this is Olivia Floyd-Martin,” said Roman, settling himself at the head of the long table and rubbing his hands together. “Sit down, Olivia. You’re in for a treat. You wouldn’t know, of course, but this is the most satisfying thing about having a culinary school; when you get the opportunity to see first-hand how much the students have learned.” He gave her a sly sidewards look, knowing how deep his words would cut.
Olivia sucked in a deep breath and pulled out a chair. “Yes, I’m sure it’s very rewarding,” she said, through gritted teeth, throwing a scowl at her nemesis.
“Right, what do we have here?” Roman beckoned Gavin with a flick of his index finger.
“There’s a white cottage loaf, granary baguettes, and mini raisin loaves, which will go very nicely with the sharp cheddar cheese that’s on the board.”
Roman licked his lips. “Come on, Olivia,” he said, munching on a raisin loaf and pushing the breadboard towards her. “Get stuck in.”
Olivia stared at the board before picking up a slice of bread. She turned it over and over in her hands before tossing it to one side and pushing her chair away from the table, sending it toppling to the floor with a crash. “This was a mistake. I should never have come.” With a face like thunder, she stomped out of the room, leaving only the sound of Roman stuffing his face behind her.
He looked after her, a triumphant smile on his lips. “Oh dear, looks like poor Olivia can’t handle a little competition. Probably a little too close to home for her, I expect,” he said, pulling the breadboard towards him. “Never mind, all the more for me.”
He chuckled to himself as he slathered another raisin loaf with butter before shoving the whole thing into his mouth.
During the exchange of words, every pair of eyes in the room had flitted between Roman and Olivia.
Every pair of eyes except one.
From the moment Olivia had entered the room to the moment she left, one person’s intense gaze had been trained only on her.
When she left, the person smiled and half-listened to the chatter in the room.
Chapter 5
“Now, I’m sure you’ve all eaten pastry before, but you may not have made it yourself.”
Larissa smiled out at the class during Tuesday’s lesson. “Although the shop bought varieties are perfectly acceptable, and they certainly save time, today we’re going to show you how to make your own, and it’s really not as daunting as you might think. We’re going to start with a basic shortcrust pastry which we’re going to use later to make custard tarts. And then we’re going to…”
The door burst open and Monique rushed in. Her usually neatly styled hair was dishevelled; her flawless make-up absent. Dark circles under her eyes only highlighted the fact that her face was blotchy and tear-streaked.
Gavin opened his mouth to make a snide remark but shut it again when he realised something was amiss.
“Can I s-speak to both of you outside, please?” said Monique, clutching at the front of her jacket, the buttons of which were all in the wrong buttonholes.
“What on earth can be going on?” said Ava, as Gavin and Larissa left the room. �
�She looked ever so distressed, didn’t she?”
“Maybe she dropped her tape recorder down the toilet,” said Roy.
“Don’t be mean,” said Izzy. “Even major divas have their off days. We don’t know what’s wrong, so you shouldn’t be so quick to judge.”
“Maybe she’s had a disagreement with Roman?” said Harriett. “Perhaps he’s fired her?”
Izzy shrugged. “Maybe. Although that wouldn’t be such a bad thing, based on his behaviour yesterday. He was so rude, don’t you think?”
“I don’t know why you’re so surprised,” said Roy. “He’s always rude. That’s why he’s so popular, although I’ve no idea why.”
“Because rude seems to be the in-thing,” said Izzy. “Look at all the TV chefs and talent show judges who’ve made a fortune by behaving badly. Roman’s just jumping on the bandwagon.”
Roy nodded. “That’s probably why he’s so mega-rich. He must have been right at the back of the queue when manners were handed out.”
“I have to admit,” said Izzy, “seeing him behave that way isn’t quite so entertaining when you experience it in person, as it is when you see it on TV.”
The door opened and Gavin and Larissa walked back in with sombre expressions on their pale faces.
“I’m sorry, but we’re going to have to cancel today’s lesson.” Gavin scratched the back of his neck awkwardly. “Possibly the rest of the course.”
“Why?” asked Harriett. “What’s happened?”
“Roman was taken ill yesterday evening. The doctors aren’t sure what’s wrong with him but he’s in a critical condition. Monique’s come straight from the hospital.”
“Oh my goodness!” said Ava, her hands flying to her mouth. “How dreadful! I wonder what on earth could have happened?”
Gavin shrugged. “No idea. Monique just said he had really bad stomach pains, and he seemed to be paralysed.”
“He’s staying at The President, isn’t he?” said Harriett. “I know he and Olivia have had their differences but, even so, this will be terribly upsetting for her.”
“It’s things like this that resolve feuds between friends, you know,” said Ava. “It’ll probably make Olivia realise that their stupid rivalry is just petty.”
“Well, let’s hope it was nothing Roman ate in her restaurant that made him bad,” Roy piped up. “It won’t do her reputation any good if it’s her food that’s given him gut ache.”
Everyone exchanged glances amid an uneasy silence.
“I’m sure it wasn’t,” said Gavin hastily. “And I’m sure we’ll find out more sooner or later but, under the circumstances, I think it’d be better if we called it a day. I’m sorry, but it wouldn’t be right to carry on with the course until Roman’s at least off the critical list. If it suits you all, we can pick up again then.”
Everyone began to pack up their things in silence, then Roy said, “But after this week, you’ve got bookings all the way to Christmas, haven’t you? When are you going to fit us in? Look, I know this probably isn’t the best time to ask, but if the course doesn’t restart, will we get a refund? It cost a fortune, and we’ve only done a day.”
“Roy! How could you ask something like that at a time like this?” said Izzy, shaking her head. “Talk about inappropriate.”
Roy shrugged. “Well, as we might not be coming back here, when was I supposed to ask? I’m not expecting anyone to whip out their wallet and refund me on the spot, but if someone could arrange for us to get at least some of our money back if we don’t make up the time, that’d be good. Don’t tell me the same thought wasn’t going through your mind, Izzy.” He pulled out the linings of his empty pockets. “I don’t know about you, but I’m fresh out of money trees.”
Larissa held up a hand. “Look, can you leave it with us for the time being? This news has knocked us sideways; I hope you understand. If all goes well, we could be back here in a day or two, but we just can’t say at the moment. We’ve got all your details on file, so we’ll be in touch as soon as we know what’s happening.”
Roy nodded. “No problem. I’m booked in at The St. Eves’ Tavern for the rest of the week so I’ll be around until Saturday. It’s not like I’ve got anyone to get back to, so I’m in no rush to leave. I might as well be here as anywhere else.”
“Same here,” said Izzy. “I’m not expected back at work until next Tuesday."
They gathered their things and congregated outside on the pavement.
“I don’t know what your plans are,” said Ava to Izzy and Roy, “but we’re going to lunch tomorrow at a lovely little café we know. It’s called Charlotte’s Plaice, and it’s at the end of the marina. No pressure, of course, but you’re both very welcome to come along if you’d like to. We can introduce you to some of our friends.”
“Izzy nodded. “Thanks, that’s super kind of you. I feel a bit odd after that news, so it’d be nice not to be wandering around on my own.”
Ava smiled and hung her handbag over her arm. “Well, there’s no point in mooching around with miserable faces, is there? Shall we meet you at the café tomorrow? Say, around one o’clock?”
“Suits me,” said Izzy. “You fancy coming along, Roy?”
He shrugged a broad shoulder. “Might as well.”
____________
“And our main news this morning, which we’ll be updating you on throughout the day, is that TV star and restaurant critic, Roman Haley, was taken ill yesterday evening at The President Hotel in St. Eves, and rushed to St. Eves’ General Hospital where he remains in critical condition. Doctors are said to be extremely concerned for Mr. Haley’s health and have indicated that the prognosis is not good. Early reports suggest that Mr. Haley may have been suffering from some kind of gastric issue. We’re going live now to our reporter, Andrew Somerfield, who’s outside the hospital. Andrew, what can you tell us?”
“Well, Patricia, all we know so far is that a call was made to the emergency services yesterday evening at around ten-forty-five by the hotel Manager, Simon Clancy, after he was informed that Mr. Haley had been found in his bedroom, in a semi-conscious state. We understand that earlier in the evening, he’d been suffering from excruciating stomach pains and had been vomiting.
“An ambulance arrived soon after it was called, and Mr. Haley received medical attention en route to the hospital, where he was put on a ventilator. At the moment, we don’t have any clear information as to the exact cause of his condition, but as soon as we do, you’ll be the first to know. At the request of Mr. Haley’s assistant, Monique Hathaway, the hotel and hospital staff have been doing their best to keep the situation under wraps but, during the night, a hospital porter confirmed that Mr. Haley had been admitted.
“Who alerted the hotel Manager to Mr. Haley’s condition, Andrew? Do you know?”
“We think it might have been Miss. Hathaway, although that has yet to be confirmed. Since news of Mr. Haley’s admission to hospital was announced during the early hours of this morning, fans have been making their way here to leave get well cards and bouquets of flowers outside the hospital entrance. I have a feeling the next time we speak, Patricia, that crowd will have grown considerably. For the moment, back to you in the studio.”
“See, what did we tell you?” said Ava, as she sat at Charlotte’s kitchen table, pouring tea from a giant teapot.
“You should have seen Roman’s assistant,” said Harriett. “She looked absolutely dreadful when she came to the school to break the news; she was as white as a sheet and she looked like she hadn’t had a wink of sleep. Poor thing.”
“I bet Olivia’s feeling awful, too,” said Charlotte, folding a basket of clean laundry. “I know they’d had their differences, but he was still an old friend, wasn’t he?”
“That’s what I said, but you wouldn’t have thought so if you’d seen them yesterday,” said Ava. “She came to the tasting session after Roman invited her, but she stormed out without eating a thing. It was all she could do to look at him—she obvi
ously didn’t want to be there at all.”
“Well, it must have been difficult for her, mustn’t it?” said Charlotte. “Seeing as she was the one who always wanted to open a culinary school in St. Eves. I’m sure she was upset yesterday, but I bet she’ll be thinking how petty it all is today. ”
“Hmm, I expect you’re right.” Ava stirred her tea and looked at Charlotte’s stomach. “D’you still think you’re going to go full-term?”
“I reckon so.” Charlotte sat down and put her feet on a footstool. “Unlike Molly, I have a feeling this one’s staying put until the last minute.”
“I’m counting the days,” said Ava. “I just can’t wait to meet the little one. Actually, talking of meeting people, we met a lovely couple at the school. They’re staying at The St. Eves’ Tavern, but they’ll be at a loose end until the course gets going again - if it gets going - so I invited them to join us for lunch at the café tomorrow. If you’re not busy, you could come along and meet them if you’d like to? They’re awfully nice.”
Charlotte nodded. “Okay, I will. And Molly’s going to camp tomorrow, so I’ll be able to come and have lunch without having to rush off to pick her up from school.”
“Wonderful,” said Ava. “Tomorrow it is, then.”
Chapter 6
At the school gates, Nathan and Charlotte were doing their best to comfort Molly, who was sobbing against Nathan’s shoulder.
“You’ll be fine, Mol.” Nathan hugged her as she clung to him like a Velcro monkey.
“I don’t want to go,” she wailed, and tightened her grip around his neck.
Charlotte chewed on her lip, fighting against the instinct to bundle Molly into the car and drive back home where they could snuggle under a blanket on the couch and read books all day in their pyjamas.
From the moment she’d received the email from the school about the trip, Charlotte had ignored the niggling doubt that Molly might not be ready to spend a week away from home. Sleepovers with friends were one thing, but a whole week away from her family was an entirely different scenario.