biting cold and Sarah had to hang onto her fur lined cap when she climbed out of her car into the swirling wind. They’d all arrived in separate cars because each had different plans for later in the day. Sarah’s included meeting Mark for an early supper and the theatre, and Lisa would be rushing home to prepare for a night of passion with Adam.
“Darling, that’s fabulous!” Lisa cried out when Katie told them her news about the large sum of money from Graham.
Katie managed a wobbly smile quietly agreeing with her.
Sarah noticed and sympathised. “Yes, it’s great but at the same time quite sad?”
“There was a lovely note from Lynne too, which, well…” Katie said and then shook herself remembering her new resolve. “Come on, let’s get inside out of this pesky wind.”
They were shown around the property by an elderly gentleman with a gleaming row of dentures that seemed to have a life of their own, as he explained how long he’d lived there and showed them each room proudly. The girls kindly made nice comments about each room’s old fashioned décor and how the flowered carpets matched the flowered curtains but once they were back outside and sitting around a table in the bistro Katie told them it wouldn’t work for her.
“I know I’ve got extra money now and much more than what I thought I’d have but I don’t want to spend it having to make major alterations. And that house, although it does have potential needs stripping completely from one end to the other.”
Sarah nodded in agreement. “True, and it’s OK telling yourself that you can take your time over the years replacing things but if you’re going to get the business up and running you need to be focussing more on that and not on property alterations.”
Katie looked around the bistro just off Sloane Square and felt the heady aroma of strong garlic filling her senses while she admired the chrome furniture, opulent mosaic tiling, and the warm, cheerful atmosphere of people talking and enjoying their food - the management had got the ambience just right, she decided. Recently it had become their favourite Saturday hang-out, mainly because it was stylish, yet not pretentious, and the food was delicious.
She asked the waiter exactly what was in the tuna Niçoise salad, trying to remember how Tim used to question waiters and other chefs about their food. He had always been able to do it with cheerful confidence like a fellow enthusiast rather than coming across like a criticising fuss pot. Smiling, she remembered when they’d first got together, how she’d hung on his every word.
A loud hunger growl from her stomach made her realise the salad had been placed in front of her and she attacked it ravenously. “I know modern chefs had tried different variations with grilled tuna and salmon,” she said, “but this combination of tuna, hard-boiled eggs, French beans, sliced new potatoes, and black olives is still the best ever.”
She crunched into the beans and dipped every forkful into the dressing and when she popped a black olive into her mouth she practically swooned with delight at the fusion of flavours.
“So, is this the type of thing you’ll be making for your male clients?” Lisa asked in all innocence while she cut her ham and pineapple pizza into manageable slices.
Sarah and Katie both grinned at her lack of culinary knowledge. And Katie teased kindly, “Erm, well yes, if they ask for salad. But if it’s food for an evening meal then I might stretch to something a little more exotic.”
Sarah shook her head disapprovingly at Lisa. “How many of those bloody pizzas do you eat in a week?”
Lisa bristled with indignation. “It’s only my second this week,” she said, and then pulled a face at them both. “So what? I love pizza, what’s wrong with that?”
Neither Sarah nor Katie argued but happily devoured their food praising the dishes they’d chosen and at the end Katie insisted upon paying the whole bill.
“No arguments,” she said. “It’s my treat to thank you for giving up your Saturdays to come flat hunting with me and, for giving me a place to stay when I found myself homeless.”
Not listening to either of their protests she called the waiter over and paid him and then buttoning her jacket she said, “I’m definitely going to send Lynne a thank you card but I do feel a little strange about the large amount of money he’s given me, not