by Wendy Reakes
“Conner, chef. Second commis garde-mange,” Michael Conner answered.
“All right then! You get the prawns. And you...” he yelled to the other chef. “Go get us a coffee. And be quick about it.”
“Oui, chef.”
“Wait! Attendez!” he roared. Heinrich turned to where Katherine was standing at his side. “How many sugars to you want?”
She was stunned…speechless. “Ehm! No sugar…chef.”
“You heard her boy. Move it.”
When they were alone, he leaned his head down towards her and winked. “I make a good impression on my first day, no?”
Chapter 12
Jack startedto come around. “Hello, Jack.” Gordon was standing over him next to his bed. “How are you feeling?”
Jack opened his eyes and blinked. “What are you doing back here? I thought you had a company to run.”
“It runs itself these days,” Gordon said. “I just sit around twiddling my thumbs all day and take time out to visit miserable, ungrateful gits like you.”
“Yeah, right!” Jack smiled. “The day you leave them to run that business, they’ll be carrying you out on a stretcher.”
Jack knew he sounded gruff, but he’d been laid up for six weeks now and he was sick of being confined to a hospital bed. At least he was back in the UK. Gordon had paid for him to be flown back. He’d said he felt responsible and wanted to help. Jack reassured him, saying he’d simply been in the wrong place at the wrong time and that the accident was unfortunate. The truth was, Jack hadn’t always felt that way. When he first came around after the accident, his first thought was, ‘Here I am again, on my back! And all because of Gordon Bentley!’
The accident had left him in a bad way. He came out of it with three broken ribs, a leg fractured in two places, burns on his hands and lower arms and a cut running down his cheek from just beneath his left eye. The cut was long and deep and with the stitches still in place, the scar looks like a zip running across his face. He was lucky, they said. Any higher and he could have lost an eye.
“You’re not so pretty any more, Jack my ol’ son,” Gordon said. Jack is unperturbed. He knew if he grew a beard, it would cover up part of it. “But you’ll be rugged instead. Here, I brought you some grapes.”
Jack took the bag and dropped it at his side. “Thanks, but I can’t stand the stuff. If you want to make yourself useful, you could bring me some whiskey next time.”
“Sorry ol’ mate. No can do. I’ll have those nurses after me.”
“You wish!”
Gordon sat down on the chair next to the bed. “So, how are you feeling, my friend?”
“Okay, actually. They’ve just given me another skin graft. Things are looking up.”
“Well let’s hope they can improve your humour as well as your looks,” Gordon popped a grape into his mouth. “How’s the leg?”
“It’s good!” He looked down at the limb bulging under the blanket. “The cast will come off in a week and then I start physiotherapy.”
“Well, that’s good news. And I’ve always said you needed therapy. What are they doing about the face?”
“Why? What’s wrong with it?” He grinned. He put his bandaged hand over the scar on his left cheek. “They’ll fix it. They said I won’t be as dashing as I was but I can always grow a beard to cover it up.”
“Give all the other guys a chance eh, Jack?”
Jack was getting fed up with talking about himself. “Have you heard anything about Katherine?”
“Yes. She’s got herself a job working at the Savoy in London.” Gordon looked like a proud father.
“The Savoy!” Jack repeated, nodding his approval. “Impressive. I mean she’s doing very well without you isn’t she?”
Gordon took another grape. “I think she’ll like it there. She’s living in a hostel in Holland Park.”
“That’s good, it’s a pretty safe area around there.”
“Where’s safe anymore, Jack? Especially in London!”
Jack guffawed, “It’s safer than Swansea.”
“Never! Lovely place Swansea, mun,” Gordon said with his Welsh accent coming to the fore.
Chapter 13
1984
Invisible streams of thick air rose from the pavements in the heat of July. Vehicles along the Strand, stood bumper to bumper with their windows closed and the air-con turned on full blast, cooling every heated brow. London in the summer! Love it or loathe it. The Killa girl loved it! She loved the smell and the atmosphere and she loved how the buildings looked dazzling white and grey, coloured by leafy green trees on both sides of the street. She loved the shaded pavements she walked along and how the windows on the opposite side of the road reflected rays of light onto the stone facades. And she loved the coolness of St James park, just off the Strand, past Trafalgar square and along the Mall near Buckingham Palace; all of the tourist sites accessible to her on a daily basis. She felt that London is where she belonged, whatever the season, but the city in the sunshine! Well, that was her favourite.
It was lunchtime in the Coal Hole pub, Katherine’s regular haunt when she was down for a late shift. The local boozer next to the Savoy was where all of the hotel staff socialised; a place to unwind after long exhausting shifts, somewhere to let their hair down and behave badly, away from the rules and propriety of the workplace. That’s at night, but the afternoon session was different; then, it catered to businessmen in their pinstripe suits, dining over a pint; a smattering of office girls sipping mineral water or wine, and some die-hard locals who had been drinking there since time began, standing faithfully in their spot at the bar. Katherine liked to go there at lunchtime before her shift since she was a stickler for good time keeping and it was just a stone’s throw from the staff entrance to the Savoy.
Today she was due to start work at two, but since all the tables were full, she’s sitting upon a stool at the counter. In front of her was the telegraph newspaper folded into neat quarters with the cryptic crossword only half complete. Today was a hard one.
“Scrambled eggs!” A voice behind her said.
She wondered for a moment if it was someone she knew. It wasn’t! “Excuse me?”
He nodded towards the newspaper as her pen poised above it. “The answer to one across. It’s scrambled eggs.”
He was tall, mid-thirties, with wavy hair cut short. He peered at her over tortoise-shell rim glasses resting on the lower part of his nose. Dressed in a dark suit, she can’t help but notice his blue spotted bow-tie under a starched white collar. Who wore bow ties? She pondered with distaste. She took an instant dislike to him. He looked arrogant…that air about him. She glanced back at the grid on the newspaper. “I don’t think so!” Who the hell did he think he was?
“I think you’ll find I’m right.”
“Really...” She blinked her eyes with annoyance. She was over-acting but he needed to know she wanted no further discussion with him. Insufferable!
He reached over and placed his manicured finger on the clue. “GEGS! Nine and four letters.” He shrugged. “Scrambled eggs!”
She shook her head with disbelief. He probably didn’t even do crosswords.
“It’s banal, but that’s the point,” he said. “The difficulty is in the simplicity of it.” He leaned on the bar, his elbow propping him up as he put all his weight onto one leg. “Clarity is confusing for some because most people spend too much time trying to decipher everything around them. That clue is a refreshing change.” He grinned but he was deadly serious.
Prat! “Look, who are you?”
“My name’s Benjamin Corner.” He placed his right hand into his trouser pocket. She thought he was going to pull out a business card. Instead he kept his hand there, making her feel suddenly embarrassed for looking. “But you can call me Ben.”
“I’m not sure I want to call you anything.” She stuck her finger in the air as if contemplating his name. “On second thoughts…something does come to mind. Four letters; firs
t letter P, last letter T.”
He grinned. “Pert!” he said without pause.
Quite witty. She almost smiled. “Look if you don’t mind. I’m just trying to do my crossword over a quick lunch. You don’t want to ruin that for me do you?”
He grinned again, while looking straight into her eyes. She noticed he had perfect white teeth…and dimples, which made him look quite appealing when he smiled. Nevertheless, he was still a prat.
“I believe you have the advantage,” he said.
She sighed. She was used to the attention of men, even though she wasn’t everyone’s cup of tea, with her brown hair and brown eyes and a body that’s curvaceous rather than thin and sporty. She was tall too, so she was aware that she stood out in a crowd or when she walked into a room. Even women looked! She was happy with that, but sometimes she could appear aloof so she found it hard to get boyfriends easily. The ones who did ask her out were the brave ones, the ones who see the girl inside, the beauty underneath. Men like the ‘arrogant one’ standing in front of her now. “What did you say?”
“Introductions! You haven’t told me your name.”
“No, I haven’t. And why don’t we just leave it at that.” She finished her drink and tucked the newspaper into her bag.
“Let me guess,” he said before she had chance to leave. “Murderer! Six letters. First letter K.”
He knew her name. “Actually it’s five letters and it ends in A!” She watched him take a sip of his drink; a shot of whiskey in a plain tumbler. “Okay…so you’ve got my attention. Do we know each other?” Her eyes were so far up her forehead she felt like running her fingers over the creases in her skin.
“No, but I was given your name by a mutual friend.” He tapped the side of his nose with his index finger.
He was the most irritating…She threw her bag over her shoulder and got up to leave, but he grabbed her arm. He instantly removed his hand when he saw her response to him daring to touch her. “Well?”
He looked apologetic in a boyish kind of way. “I’ve got a restaurant in Covent Garden, on the corner. The Corner! Do you know it?”
“No!” She did know it, but she wasn’t going to tell him that.
“I’m looking for some chefs and I was given your name.”
Was that all? “Who gave you my name?”
“I’ve got a contact at the Savoy who scouts talent for me.”
She looked around the room. The bar was busier now and she could see some faces she recognized. She had a disinterested look on her face. “Sounds like a loyal type of guy. You pay him, I suppose, this contact?”
“Everything comes at a price, Kathy.”
“Well, I don’t.” She took a short step towards him and stared into his eyes. “I’m not looking for a job, but if I was, it would be in a place I’ve actually heard of.” She stepped back. “If you want my advice, try The Caterer next time. Most people use that to advertise for staff…And don’t call me Kathy.”
He laughed as his eyes searched hers for a better understanding of her. “If you change your mind…” He put his hand inside his jacket pocket. “Here’s my card.”
She looked at the logo in the top centre. The Corner, it said and underneath, Benjamin. G. Corner, managing director. She attempted to hand it back to him. “I won’t, thanks!”
“Keep it.”
She shook her head and left him standing at the bar with two empty glasses on the counter in front of him. As she walked towards the back entrance, leading to the alleyway behind the Savoy, she pushes the door open and hears him call after her. “It was nice meeting you, Kathy. Really nice!”
Chapter 14
Gordon Bentley closed the office door and walked behind his desk. He sat down and took the letter he’d already written from the drawer. He decided to read it just one more time before sealing it. Dear Annie, it said,
I trust this letter finds you in good spirits. I hope you don’t mind me writing to you like this, instead of coming to see you in person. Rose mentioned that you haven’t been feeling too well recently, so I thought it prudent not to disturb you.
To get to the point. Ten years ago (following the incident we have already discussed), I took the liberty of setting up a trust for Katherine, to be payable to her on her twenty-fifth birthday, this year. A cheque for ten thousand pounds is attached and I would ask you to sign the enclosed agreement and send it back to our solicitors at the address shown on the top of the form. I have also made a small provision in my will, which bequeaths a sum of money to Katherine.
In addition, I would also like to take this opportunity to suggest that you and Rose take up permanent residence at my mother’s house next-door. I would like to offer you the house for you to live in, rent free, for the rest of yours and Rose’s life-time, in the hope it will provide you with more satisfactory living arrangements than the cottage you currently reside in.
I hope you won’t take offence at my suggestion, as it is merely that, a suggestion, offered out of sincere friendship.
In any event I remain yours affectionately. Gordon Bentley.
He folded the letter and tucked it into a brown manila envelope marked private and confidential. As he placed it into the out-tray in the corner of his desk, Gordon wondered if the forever proud and stubborn, Annie Killa would accept the money. It wasn’t a large sum, but he figured anything more might scare her off. Ten thousand pounds! The cost of a term at Teresa’s old school. It was nothing, but maybe it could help Katherine to put a deposit down on a flat or maybe a small business…a restaurant maybe! Yes, it was a small sum, but it could pave the way for something bigger and better for her. As long as Annie accepted it!
He’d tried once before to give her funds but she’d turned him down. That wasn’t a surprise. He must have looked like a stalker when he’d asked her to take money for her young daughter. But now Katherine was older…They all were. Would Annie have a change of heart now? Gordon prayed she would, because if she didn’t, he’d be forever wondering how he was going to repay his debt to the Killa girl. And Gordon didn’t like being in debt!
Chapter 15
The persistent knocking on the door made her roll over to grab the alarm clock at the side of the bed. After midnight! She’d only been asleep for an hour after a long tiring shift. She placed her bare feet on the faded patterned lino covering the floor of her one room bedsit and pulled on a robe to cover her naked body. She pulled it tighter around her waist as she walked towards the door and peered through the peephole. Her landlady was waiting outside. She opened the door and looked through the gap. “There’s a call for you,” the woman said. “It sounds important, but I can’t say I appreciate being woken up at this time of night.”
She wondered if it was work. Maybe they needed her to go in. She stepped into the hall and closed the door behind her. “Do you know who it is?”
The landlady looked down at her bare feet. “Don’t you have any slippers?”
She shook her head as she pushed her hair away from her face. “I never wear slippers.” Now that she’d mentioned it, she could feel the threadbare carpet beneath her feet, as they both crossed the landing to the stairs. Now she felt cold. A shiver went up her spine as if someone had just walked over her grave. “Do you know who it is…on the phone?” She had a feeling of dread, like a knot in her stomach as she walked behind the landlady who walked much too slow.
“Mrs Killa. Your grandmother.”
Then she knew. “Mam!” She pushed past the landlady to run down in front of her. The door to the apartment on the ground floor was ajar and she let herself in. She picked up the phone on a table inside the hall. “Hello, Nana, is that you?”
“Yes! Kathy, it’s about your mam.” She felt a sob catch in the back of her throat. Rose sounded tired. “It’s not looking good.”
“No...”
“It’s pneumonia. She just deteriorated suddenly, yesterday. They gave her some drugs this afternoon but it’s gone from bad to worse.”
&nbs
p; “I’ll get there as soon as I can.” Her thoughts were rushing through her head like a whirlwind. “I didn’t ring last night, Nana. If I’d rung, I could have been there by now.”
“There’s no point worrying about that. Just get here as soon as you can.”
“I will.” She heard her landlady enter the hall. “Nana! Tell her…tell her to wait for me.” She placed the receiver back onto the cradle and stood still for a moment staring at the phone, planning what to do next. As she climbed the stairs, two steps at a time, without wanting to admit it, deep down, Katherine knew it was the end.
Chapter 16
Gordon Bentley stood a distance away from the grave and watched Katherine bury her mother. Alice stood at his side holding his hand, both of them dressed in black. At the end of the sermon he watched a tearful Katherine hook her arm through her grandmother's and they walked silently through the vast crowd of well-wishers. She didn’t notice him and even if she had, she probably wouldn’t have recognised him.
How grown up she was. And beautiful too, despite the paleness of her skin and her tired, puffy eyes. She looked sad and vulnerable, wretched and completely lost. Her mother was dead and now all she had left was her grandmother, Rose.
He felt his own sadness as he watched her. He thought about his own daughter, Teresa, in the same way he’d thought about her every day for the past six years. They still hadn’t heard from her. She'd never forgive them for taking Jack’s side when he’d divorced her. When she left, she’d said they would never hear from her again and so far she’d kept to her word. There was talk about her living in America but the source was unreliable. He often thought about putting someone on it, but the truth was, after everything she’d done; the trouble she’d caused, he preferred to focus his energy on Katherine. Besides, he knew Teresa well enough to know that if they did persuade her to come home, she’d soon be back upsetting the balance of things and he certainly didn’t want to put Alice through any more grief, nor Jack for that matter.
