Yes Chef, No Chef - By Susan Willis Page 0,28
never ever criticised his work ethics or the quality of his cooking.”
Frances shrugged her shoulders and began fiddling with the wool tag on her cardigan. “Just putting it out there…”
“Christ, he knows fine well I’m always in awe of the dishes and new ideas he comes up with and I’ve given him loads of support and encouragement,” she said continuing to stare at Frances while doubts and past conversations with Tim whirled around in her mind.
Frances soothed. “Of course you have now. But maybe not so much in the beginning which of course is when he said it to me. So, it’s probably got nothing to do with what’s happening now.”
She needed some time to think in private and making an excuse, she scuttled off to the ladies where thankfully the cubicles were empty. Closing a door behind her she tried hard to remember past conversations about his work and her job and remembered how they’d always teased each other about which was the better and more important of the two jobs. But surely that was just gentle camaraderie, wasn’t it? He couldn’t possibly have taken it seriously and, sighing heavily, she plonked herself down on the lid of the toilet seat. Was it one of the reasons why they’d grown so far apart in the last few months? But no, Tim was anything but shy when it came to talking about his work; in fact if she had to think of a word to describe his attitude to his cooking, it was boastful if anything.
She traced a finger idly over the lock on the back of the door and wondered why she wasn’t crying? Surely she should be weeping because her relationship was finally over but she just couldn’t find the tears. All she felt was a staggering sense of disappointment in him and wondered how she could have totally misjudged his character; but there again, he hadn’t been like this when they’d first met.
Frances looked across at her when she sat back down at her desk and, sensing Katie’s turmoil and misery, she suggested leaving early and taking some work back to Sarah’s house to finish. Katie agreed and packed two folders into her bag, wished everyone a nice weekend and left the building. The skies were grey, overcast and full of light rain which she decided fitted her mood exactly - not bothering to open her umbrella she let the rain trickle down her face while she walked to the car. Arriving at Sarah’s and feeling completely exhausted she let herself into the basement, turned the central heating on and lay down on the squidgy soft settee. She put her head onto two plump cushions and with the words from his email going over and over in her mind she let her eyelids droop and instantly fell asleep.
Later that night when Sarah was home and Lisa had arrived carrying three bottles of wine plus two huge pizza boxes she told them about the email and the fact that she was now returning to the world of singles.
“Oh honey, I know how devastated you are but you can’t put up with shit like that from a man. I mean, you’re just not the type…” Lisa drawled.
Katie nodded sadly. “I know, and this afternoon I was almost wishing I wasn’t a feminist and had no self-respect or pride and could just amble along the same road to avoid the whole splitting up scenario.”
“Lisa’s right, Katie,” Sarah said. “But there again; no woman should have to put up with that from a man, well not now-a-days.”
“I mean, who the hell does the prick think he is?” Lisa continued scathingly. “Bloody Superman?”
Lisa’s face was perspiring slightly under a thick layer of what Katie suspected was another new skin-care product she’d bought. Unfortunately Lisa hadn’t been blessed with a good complexion and spent hundreds of pounds on every new foundation and cover stick that came onto the market even though she and Sarah had repeatedly told her that her self-consciousness was unfounded. She took a tissue from her handbag dabbed at her upper lip where slight droplets of perspiration formed and Sarah asked, as Katie had done previously, if she should turn the heating down.
“No, I’ll be fine, thanks. Bloody hot flushes! Men, I tell you, they get away with everything. They don’t have to put up with this bloody carry on,” she fumed.
Katie gave them a weak smile trying to buck herself up. “Anyway, I’ve decided to get up tomorrow and