Yes Chef, No Chef - By Susan Willis Page 0,8
her their friends had cancelled at the last minute for Sunday lunch and she wondered if they wanted to come and help eat the massive beef joint she’d cooked. Katie explained that Tim was out for a run but as they didn’t have any plans for the day she was sure it would be fine.
She was just getting out of the shower when Tim returned and wrapping a towel around herself she caught up with him in the hall. He was leaning forward with his hands on his knees taking huge deep breaths with beads of sweat running down his forehead.
Making a conscious effort to be pleasant, she asked, “Good run?”
He nodded his head and looked up at her with a sideways glance.
“Your mum called and asked us over for Sunday lunch,” she said. “Apparently she has enough beef to feed an army.”
Straightening up he wiped his face with the bottom of his vest. “That figures. Do you want to go?”
She smiled. “Well, we don’t have much food in the kitchen…”
“Fine, I’ll ring her back,” he mumbled.
Feeling much brighter now that they were at least speaking to each other she hoped that with a few lunch-time drinks inside him he would put this morning behind him. The best time to talk would be when they got home early evening she decided and she was determined this time to get everything sorted out properly. Tugging 60 denier black tights up her legs she frowned - this plan however, did have its own draw-backs because she knew the minute they got home he’d be opening a bottle of wine. And, as she hurried out into the hall, where he was waiting for her, another thought struck her – was his regular drinking becoming a problem?
They left the apartment together and walked out into a weak sun trying to radiate heat through the bitterly cold temperatures of late January.
When they reached the pavement on Fulham Road she said, “I’ll drive, Tim, I had far too much to drink last night and a detox day will do me good.”
Giving her a feeble smile of thanks he opened the passenger door to her Micra.
He’d bought her a pair of knee-high boots for Christmas and she knew they looked great with her tights and denim mini skirt, and when she saw him ogle her legs while she slid into the driver’s seat - she smiled with satisfaction.
“These boots are so comfy,” she said chattily, turning the ignition.
“Hmm,” he uttered, folding his arms across his chest. He bent his long legs to fit into the foot well and then stared out of the window for the journey.
His parents lived in Belgravia and when she’d first met Tim she’d been in awe of their wealth and upper class standing but when she’d got to know them she’d found that they were genuine and sincere, and she liked them enormously. There was no snobbery or falseness to them whatsoever and both Tim and his sister had been raised with good family values knowing from an early age they had to be independent. Tim’s father, Graham, had paid for his university education and rent in student accommodation but Tim had had to work in a pub like his friends for his spending money.
Pulling into the Sunday quietness of the exclusive road she saw Lynne’s tall, statuesque figure waiting at the large black front door to the town house.
“Ah, you’ve made it,” Lynne said warmly, ushering them into the grand hallway and bending forward to hug Katie. Tim planted a perfunctory kiss on his mum’s cheek while she took their jackets. Lynne raised a quizzical eyebrow at Katie when she noticed Tim’s miserable face but Katie shook her head slightly in warning. Taking the hint Lynne breezily chatted her way through into the lounge where Graham was sitting reading The Guardian.
Last year when Tim told his parents they were looking for a flat to move in to together, Graham had bought the apartment on Fulham Road for them. He’d told them it would be an investment for himself but they could pay him a small rent until they’d saved up enough money for their own place. She’d been, and still was, overwhelmed by his kindness and after they’d moved in, every time she saw Graham she insisted upon thanking him over and over again until he’d thrown his hands up exclaiming enough was enough.
“Gin and tonic, Katie?” Graham asked jumping up and heading towards the drinks cabinet. He always reminded her