Yes Chef, No Chef - By Susan Willis Page 0,19
forward to the party at the Savoy with her new dress to wear - it seemed like two months ago rather than two days because so much had happened. And none of what had happened had been very good.
“Hey there, are you feeling better?” Frances called walking over and perching on the edge of Katie’s desk. “You still look at little peaky to me?”
“I’m much better, thanks,” Katie answered and lowered her head hoping Frances wouldn’t notice her sore puffy eyes from all the tears she’d cried the night before. She couldn’t face going through the whole saga again and decided to tell her later.
“Now,” she said briskly opening the folder in front of her. “Let’s get our heads around the two new lemon desserts we’re launching next week.”
Frances stared with concern but shrugged her shoulders. “OK, honey,” she said quietly. Katie knew Frances had figured that she didn’t want to talk because she squeezed her shoulder lightly.
Katie asked, “Would you do the check list for sign-off procedures and I’ll spend the rest of the day going through the suppliers specification to double check it’s all in place.”
Frances nodded and stood up to return to her desk. “No problem,” she said. “I’ll take Alice and Harry through the list at the same time and they’ll get to know exactly what we’re responsible for.”
Katie smiled her thanks and looked around her organised desk. A bright red ceramic pot filled with pens, pencils and markers stood on one side of the computer and three product folders sat on the other side with a jotter pad just next to her right hand near the mouse. She groaned silently, put her head down and began to read through the suppliers details. The specification document was on her PC but she always liked to print it out and use a pencil and the jotter pad for scribbling notes just to make sure it was checked thoroughly. The afternoon progressed with phone calls, emails and queries that Frances had noticed, and by six o’clock they both agreed their preparations were complete. The travel arrangements for the following weeks visit to the supplier’s site in Shrewsbury, where they would be watching the factory produce the lemon desserts, were sorted and she breathed a sigh of relief.
As she called goodnight to the few remaining colleagues in the office she momentarily forgot she wasn’t driving home to the apartment and because there was still no word from Tim she decided to call at her mums first and let her know she was staying at Sarah’s house.
Pulling up outside her mums old terraced house on Abbotshall Road in Lewisham, she noticed the three stone steps up to the front door were crumbling slightly on the edges and the white paint on the old sash windows needed touching up. The street was full of familiar sights and sounds although most of the families and children she’d played with when growing up had long since moved. Locking the car door and looking up at the big family home she still puzzled at her mums insistence to stay there after her father had died because a small bungalow would suit her lifestyle so much better. But all their memories were locked in this house and street and if she closed her eyes now she could almost hear her dads whistle as if he was sauntering happily towards the front door. Smiling with the thought of him she hop-scotched up the three steps like she’d done when she was a little girl – familiarity always reassured her.
Her father had worked in the building trade all his life and her mum had always stayed at home to look after her and her two brothers apart from once when she was nine years old.
“I’m going to start a part time job to make some extra money for our holiday to the Isle of Wight,” she’d announced one night and they’d all gasped with shock. But, the job had only lasted for six months and when the holiday was over they all agreed, especially her father that they’d much rather she was at home when they got back from work and school. “That’s far more important than any holiday,” her father had said and Katie remembered the genuine look of gratitude and relief on her mums face - she’d always been much happier at home with her family rather than in a work situation.
Standing on the top step now she scuffed at some of the peeling paint