His Horizon - Con Riley Page 0,61

the wall. It flashed in the bright new lights Rob had fitted. “I mean, yes, of course, I’m gonna cook, but I’m doing it for Lou.” He took a breath, breaking the surface of his confused anger. “And for Carl and Susan.” Their acceptance felt precious; brand new and fragile, and he was so grateful for it. He sliced careful and quick, the flesh of the sea bass white with a faint pink tint as he lifted it away in one piece. Perfect. “Get some pans on the heat. Start a white-wine reduction. Enough for three portions.”

Rob worked beside him in dead silence, apart from a quiet “Ah,” when Jude fried off dried dulse, red seaweed flavouring the oil before he laid down each fillet. He fetched the rest of the ingredients without speaking, passing him a bottle of brandy. For once, he kept his cognac jokes to himself, head down as Jude added a splash to his pan. He only said, “These are ready,” when the mussels opened their shells to reveal their tender insides.

Jude felt just as stripped bare.

Louise arrived, fresh makeup a poor coat of armour that strengthened once she saw what Jude had produced. Her back straightened as she took two plates. “If he turns his nose up at this, I’ll push him into the harbour.” She inclined her head at the third plate. “Could you bring that one, Rob? I never mastered carrying more than two at a time.”

Rob hesitated.

“Go on.” Jude piled pans in the sink, back turned to them both. “I’ll need to finish up here.” Water splashed the front of his apron when he turned on the tap, but Jude didn’t notice. He was too lost in thought, wondering what the hell had just happened.

22

Jude’s thoughts didn’t settle as he cleared down. Everywhere he turned, evidence of Rob was right there, impossible to get away from. The fridge held a tray of desserts Jude knew would taste delicious, the last of his mother’s blackberries stewed into dark-red glossy sweetness in a jug beside them, showing just how hard Rob listened.

That was the man Jude knew—thoughtful and creative—not someone who’d need to steal ideas to win a cooking contest.

The plate of Rob’s food congealed under the light of the warmer.

It was good enough to win too, so why had he cheated?

Cheat was a strong word that didn’t ring true, Jude acknowledged knee-deep in confusion that kept on rising, flooding him with questions. Why hadn’t Rob told him that he’d copied his final menu? And what would he have done if Jude had stayed in London? Served the same meal as him?

Who would the judges have believed came up with it first? An unknown who’d learned to cook in a pub kitchen, or the son of an established restauranteur with Michelin stars to his name?

A strand of doubt tugged at him—was stealing his ideas the sole reason Rob had paid him any attention in the first place?

That didn’t ring true either.

Louise backed into the kitchen with a pile of clean plates. “You smashed it!” Her eyes sparkled without tears, this time.

“Yeah?”

“Oh, yes. I think we’re safe.” She placed the dishes by the sink. “He wants to speak to you. He can’t stop smiling.”

“Rob?” Was he out there acting happy after keeping this truth from them, and coming so close to dropping them all in it?

Lou set him straight before the spark of anger could flare any brighter. “No, the critic, silly. Guy,” she said as if he was a friend instead of someone who could tank the Anchor. “He didn’t even pretend to turn his nose up, so I don’t know why Rob’s still looking so worried.”

“He looks worried?”

“You know,” Louise said as she wiped water droplets from the front of his apron, “you can just keep repeating what I say like a parrot, or you can go dig Rob out of the hole he’s digging. I don’t know if he’s grasped that every word he’s saying is being recorded—”

The kitchen door swung closed behind Jude before she finished speaking. When he got to the snug bar, Rob’s back was to him, and if Guy Parsons saw him in the doorway, he didn’t give any indication, simply nodding as Rob spoke, and asking a pointed question.

“So you’re telling me that wasn’t your recipe in the first place? You didn’t think passing it off as your own like that was dishonest?”

“I didn’t much care, to be honest. I just knew that I….” Rob blew out