food critic’s table he decided and then felt his foot slip on a wet patch on the floor.
“Jessie!” he yelled gripping hold of the table. “Get this bloody floor dried-up, it’s soaking wet.”
Katie looked at him while she prepared the fillets again, his face was flushed with the exertion of shouting, his eyebrows were knotted in frustration, and his forehead was covered in beads of sweat. Not quite so cute now, she thought testily, and set the oven timer for the fillets while frying the potatoes. Jessie sidled up to her and told her the oven she’d used was a little temperamental and showed her a more reliable oven for which she was grateful, but from then onwards things went from bad to worse and the lunch-time service seemed never ending. The next two salmon fillets she cooked were overdone and he shouted at her again until her third attempt was better although the sweet potatoes were a little too hard.
By this time her previous optimistic confidence had completely deserted her and she felt thoroughly miserable. Reasoning with herself, she knew that although his manner was dreadful, some of his criticisms were justified and she couldn’t even argue with him. But the more uptight she became the more mistakes she made and her stomach churned like a rollercoaster. Her usual calm demeanour had long since dissolved and the more he shouted at her, the more panicky she felt. God, how she wished this was over she thought, and yet she’d started the day with such high hopes. Tears pricked at the back of her eyes and, not wanting to make a fool of herself in front of everyone, and especially not him, she fled to the toilets.
Washing her hands she stared into the mirror and choked back the tears. Come on, you can get through this she told herself and blew her nose hard. Taking three deep breaths in succession she felt a little calmer and more determined to get things back onto an even keel.
When she left the toilets Jessie caught up with her and put a comforting arm around her shoulders trying to reassure her that she was doing fine.
“It’s just because he’s worked so hard on the new dishes and is desperate to get a good review from the food critic,” Jessie said. “And I do know he’s over the moon that you’ve come to the restaurant and your support will definitely buck him up.”
Katie smiled back at her young earnest face. “I know, and he’s very lucky to have you Jessie.”
Jessie grinned then anxiously looked over her shoulder to make sure Tim wasn’t anywhere in the vicinity. “He’s been so sad lately without you. He’s never said as much but I can tell by the way he stares at your photograph on his desk.”
Katie thanked her and, trying to hold her head up higher, she returned to her bench where she managed to cook the last few sets of orders to his satisfaction.
At the end of service he came up to her and smiled tentatively. “Well done, tough call today but we got there,” he said awkwardly patting her shoulder.
Feeling confused she looked into his eyes and wasn’t sure what to say. She knew that admitting mistakes had always been painful for him and noticed him wringing his hands together in embarrassment. His face was still slightly flushed and he shuffled from one foot to another.
“Tough call?” Katie probed untying the apron strings from around her waist. “What the hell is that supposed to mean? You’ve done nothing but scream and shout at me”.
Tim took the apron from her and then tried to take hold of her hand. “Look, you know it’s not personal,” he stumbled uncomfortably. “I mean, when I lose my temper and shout, it doesn’t mean anything…”
Jack suddenly appeared at the doorway calling his name and he dropped her hand quickly and turned to leave. “I’ll call,” he said over his shoulder striding towards the doorway while she stared after him slowly shaking her head in confusion.
Chapter Twenty Nine
Arriving home with a feeling of crushing disappointment and her mind racing in turmoil she tried to figure out how everything had gone so badly wrong. She decided the guy who wrote the saying, never mix business with pleasure had hit the nail right on the head. Hot tears of humiliation and frustration ran down her face; what on earth had got into her and how could she have made such a mess of cooking