Yes Chef, No Chef - By Susan Willis Page 0,33
been introduced.” And then a great discussion followed about how they’d been in the same room at the last publishing meeting but never quite got to say hello and it was blatantly obvious to Katie the plan had been hatched by Lisa and Darren before the party and by the look in Adam’s huge brown eyes it was no surprise to him either.
Katie hung around chatting to Darren while Lisa and Adam moved across the floor and started to dance and sway together mingling with another few couples. While Rod Stewart crooned ‘Bewitched, Bothered, and Bewildered,’ Lisa wrapped herself around Adam like a snake, leaving him with no doubt what her intentions were for the rest of the night, and Katie decided it would be safe to make a swift exit without upsetting Lisa or Darren.
Outside the house Lisa pressed her spare key into Katie’s hand when she got into the back of the taxi. “Just get into my bed, honey,” Lisa said. “I certainly won’t be coming home tonight. And have a good night’s sleep.”
Katie thanked her and wished her a sleepless night to which they both giggled while the taxi driver grumbled and told them to hurry up because he had another fare to collect.
Back in Lisa’s flat Katie lay in the handcrafted Provence rattan bed and snuggled down under the thick, luxurious quilt watching the overhead chandelier twinkle with what seemed like hundreds of glittering fairy lights. This must have cost a fortune she thought, and knew that Lisa, even on her richly deserved PR salary, wouldn’t be able to afford to live in such an affluent area of London if her father didn’t pay the rent.
Frowning, she wondered why even though they were such close friends whenever she tried to talk to Lisa about her father she got nowhere - all Lisa would ever say was that he owed her big time. She’d never elaborated on this and neither her nor Sarah had ever been able to find out anything more apart from one night when they were drunk she’d told Katie that her family were estranged to her and she didn’t want anything more to do with them. But then had added how she thought of her and Sarah as her own little family, which of course was why she was so fiercely loyal and protective towards them both.
Chapter Eight
As Tim finished the coffee Jessie had left for him he looked up to see Jack, the restaurant owner standing in the doorway. In his early sixties the man practically filled the space with his six foot frame and enormous torso. His jet black hair was swept to the side and slicked into place and his face wore the usual grumpy scowl, which when Kate had met him she’d likened to an Italian mafia agent. Tim was never quite sure if the scowl was meant to intimidate him, but it never did. He did wish however, that they could start at least one conversation without his body being in the defensive mode and without the hairs on the back of his neck standing to attention.
“Ah, Tim,” Jack said. “Did the police come back to you on Saturday night before you left?”
Tim stood his ground. “No, but I’m going to call them this afternoon on the number they gave me,” he said. “I still can’t believe Jim would do such a thing…”
Jack put both his hands into his trouser pockets, puffed his chest out and sneered. “Yeah, well by the time you get to my age you don’t get taken in by sob stories.”
Tim flinched but didn’t retaliate. At least I’ve still got some measure of human compassion, he thought glowering at him. “I’ll let you know what they say later.”
Jack turned to leave and Tim thought about Saturday night again. He’d interviewed Jim two months ago and had really liked him, he had experience as a commis chef and more importantly in silver service which meant he could also help out when needed in the front of house serving at tables. He’d trusted him and loved his passion and eagerness to try new things and he’d developed some corking good recipes - his talent had been completely natural. So, when Jessie had told him a few weeks ago that there was food missing from the chill store Tim had been really shocked when he’d caught Jim red-handed with a big joint of beef in a bag obviously ready to go out the door.
“Oh, Christ, Tim, I’m