Yes Chef, No Chef - By Susan Willis Page 0,94
or longer than the last time she’d looked. She pulled her face into an exaggerated grin hoping she didn’t look too much older than she had at university. Gone were the days when she could get away with a quick flash of foundation but all in all, she reckoned pulling on her denim jacket, she didn’t look too bad. Leaving the flat she counted back the years and decided it had to be nearly nine since she’d seen any of her friends from university and hoped Phil had some news of what had happened to everyone.
Nostalgia flooded through her for the carefree, university time where most days the biggest worry she had was to find enough money for a bottle of wine to go to another party. Walking down the road to head over to King Street she giggled remembering the drunken nights they’d spent at all night parties, the animal rights group, and peace committees they’d all belonged to and how enthusiastic she’d been to start work and make a difference. Smiling, she thought fondly of Phil’s green issue politics’ and wondered why single-handedly he hadn’t managed to change world opinions.
Turning onto King Street she strode purposely looking at the numbers above some of the doors trying to judge how far down the street the butchers shop would be and wondered if Phil was simply thinking of the lunch as an old friend’s get together and not a date. He could be, she supposed, and maybe that’s all she should be thinking too, but the sun was shining and although she was feeling a little anxious, she caught her reflection in a shop window and knew she was looking good. Up ahead she saw the red and white awning of what she presumed was the butchers shop and her stomach lurched with excitement as she dodged her way between a queue of shoppers at the greengrocers next door.
The butcher cutting sirloin steaks behind the shop counter had the biggest hands she'd ever seen in her life. Phil introduced him as his boss, Doug, and she stood chatting to him while Phil changed his clothes in the back room. The strong characteristic smell of fresh meat filled the shop while she admired the cuts and joints in the display cabinet and Doug talked through the selection he had ready to suit his regular customers. She explained her job, how she was setting up her own business, and they talked about the benefits and pitfalls of self-employment.
“My uncle’s an accountant dealing mainly with small businesses and sole traders; he’s great for advice and information. I’ll look for his number while you’re out for lunch.”
She smiled her thanks back and Phil arrived back in the shop. Grinning at her he threw a casual arm along her shoulder as they walked down to the pub for lunch.
"But really, Katie, you've hardly changed a bit," he said earnestly. "Honestly, if I didn't know how old you were I'd guess you were in your early twenties. What’s your secret then?"
While he guided her to an empty table in the corner of the old pub she was tempted to ask him what he'd been doing because to say he'd aged dramatically would have been an understatement. He'd lost his mass of curly brown hair and was nearly bald, his face was lined and he'd gained a huge amount of weight, which she supposed may be with the stress of losing his job.
"There’s no secret," she said grinning at him. "Just plenty of sex, drugs, and rock & roll."
He threw his head back and howled with laughter and she saw the old Phil - the Phil who on her first day in the university restaurant had rescued her from a fracas with a tall leggy red head. Katie had felt a bundle of nerves that day finding her way around the campus and lecture rooms and when she’d tried to squeeze onto the end of a long bench with her tray of lunch, the girl deliberately pushed herself along the bench to prevent Katie sitting down. The tray and plate of food had gone up in the air before crashing to the floor to a round of hoots and guffaws from the packed room. When the students looked around to see the cause of the upset Katie had felt her cheeks burn with embarrassment and she’d wanted to turn around and run all the way home. But Phil had jumped up from the bench, glared at the