Yes Chef, No Chef - By Susan Willis Page 0,119
the first day he’d met her she’d unpredictably kept him on his toes. He took his jacket off and sat down at the table feeling a little off-balance because he’d been expecting an argument not a meal and then wondered if she was going to tip the plate of food over his head, which he reckoned was probably all he deserved. Quickly he decided to get in first with his apologies as he’d planned.
“Look, Kate,” he said hesitatingly. “I’m truly and sincerely sorry about yesterday…”
“Oh, that’s ok. I decided when I got home that it’s definitely not a good idea for us to work together,” she said. “And when I offered to come and help you I never dreamt we’d have had the problems we did.”
She put a plate down in front of him with scallops, blanched vegetables and dressing. “I’ve cooked the scallops and salmon for you,” she said teasing him. “I hoped you may want to eat your words?”
Unbelievable, he thought, she was completely and utterly priceless - what other woman could turn around a dire situation like this? He relaxed his shoulders, threw his head back and began to roar with laughter and relief. Jenny had been right; he must have been absolutely crazy to let a woman like this get away.
She popped a scallop into her mouth and felt the juices run from it while she chewed; they were meaty and moist with a delicate flavour and the aroma from the ginger and lemon grass rose up tantalisingly from the plate as she licked her lips appreciatively.
He ate with gusto declaring, “These are simply delicious.”
She poured them both a glass of Riesling and then served the salmon fillets with sliced potatoes onto their plates. “I once read that salmon was described as a dish of elegant simplicity,” she said picking her knife and fork up. “I hope the salmon is cooked as chef would like it?”
Smiling at her he cut through the crispy pine nut and breadcrumb crust and ate a mouthful. “Ok, look, its absolute perfection.” he said staring deeply into her eyes. “It’s fabulous; just like you are.”
She lifted her shoulders with pride and although she was determined they were going to do some serious talking she decided to get the upper hand first, make him sweat, and have some fun into the bargain.
Taunting him she pronged a slice of sweet potato onto her fork and held it up in front of his face. “And the potato – is it too hard or maybe too soft?”
He knew he was well and truly beaten and in these circumstances; he also knew he deserved to be. She was a much bigger person than he could ever hope to be because if it had been the other way around he wasn’t sure if he could ever be as magnanimous. She had been, and still was the love of his life and he knew he’d never forgive himself for treating her so badly and losing her. Could she ever find it in herself to forgive him?
He nodded his head slightly in the act of submission and muttered, “Just like the salmon, it’s impeccably cooked.”
Taking hold of her outstretched hand he said, “I really am so very sorry, Kate. I know I was totally out of order and I feel especially crap because you were the one who came to help me. Christ, what was I thinking?”
She beamed with success but then remembered her stupid pride when they’d split up and if she could have only swallowed it and talked to him then they might not be in this situation. Her eyes softened forgivingly at him. “It’s all right. You were justified with some of your comments. I don’t know what happened to me in that kitchen; maybe it’s because I’m not used to cooking under pressure like you are?”
“Exactly,” he said relived that she was accepting his apology so well. “You’re an excellent cook and I didn’t help matters by shouting like I did. It’s just sometimes I get so caught up with what I’m doing with the food that everything else, like my manners and behaviour, flies out of the window. God knows how Jessie and Simon put up with me?”
She thought of how he’d shouted at her about the uncooked salmon and realised what he’d meant when he’d said it wasn’t personal. His manner had been totally different to the old sneering foulness that he’d used before they’d split up – yesterday had been simply an