Love on the Menu

by Barry, Jill

  Immediately Hal wondered whether she’d reached too hasty a decision to sell any of her late husband’s work after their discussion the previous evening but didn’t want to intrude. Having now seen several stunning paintings by Daniel Robinson, he was curious as to why Zillah kept such a low profile. Surely by now it had occurred to her that she might be sitting on a considerable amount of money.

  ‘Don’t be so polite. You mustn’t concern yourself about me,’ he said. ‘I only wish I could wash up for you.’

  ‘Most of it is done,’ she told him. ‘I’m boringly organised in the kitchen.’

  ‘Boring is the last word I’d use in any connection with you,’ he said softly.

  Zillah pushed back her chair and got up. ‘Let’s make you comfortable on the settee.’ Her tone reminded Hal of the eagle-eyed matron years before when he was at prep school.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Zillah returned from her stroll, still not sure how she felt about putting Daniel’s pictures up for sale. She put her head round the sitting-room door to see if Hal needed anything and saw he lay on the settee, head propped on a cushion, feet buried beneath a heap of Sunday papers. She couldn’t help smiling at the crowning touch even though she wondered how the little cat had blagged her way in. Ruby was curled up on Hal’s chest, cradled by his cupped hand.

  Slumbering man and sleeping kitten were oblivious of her return. And Hal, despite his six feet three inches of professional manhood, had shed a couple of decades. A cheeky sunbeam highlighted a tiny auburn glint in his dark eyebrows and set Ruby’s silvery fur gleaming. If only Daniel could be here, Zillah thought, he’d be sketching the pair of them, intent upon capturing Hal’s vulnerability.

  She left the sitting room door ajar and went into the kitchen, where she shut herself in. The door through to the utility room was ajar, allowing Ruby to creep through the gap and find her way into yet another person’s heart.

  Zillah plunged her gloved hands into hot and foamy washing up water, to tackle the remaining dishes. She wished she could find the confidence to let herself love again. She’d always love Daniel. That was a given. But somehow that sitting room tableau she witnessed had left a very large lump in her throat. It was difficult to imagine how she’d once found Hal arrogant and obnoxious. She scrubbed furiously at an obstinate stuck-on bit of roast potato and tried not to think how lovely it had felt when he nuzzled her neck.

  *

  Monday morning, Zillah heard Hal clump his way along the hall to the bathroom after she’d showered and dressed. He’d insisted he could manage alone and for this she was grateful. At least he could prop himself up at the washbasin to complete his ablutions in privacy.

  She met the invalid on his way back to his room. He wore a navy blue towelling robe and a drift of spicy sandalwood.

  ‘I’m off to work in a minute, Hal. Can I get you anything before I leave? Sure you’ll be able to hop to the kitchen?’

  He nodded. ‘My ankle feels better today.’

  ‘All the more reason not to overdo things.’

  ‘You’re wearing your headmistress face,’ he teased.

  ‘I need to with you and Zak around. Not that he’s here much at the moment.’

  Hal’s eyes narrowed. ‘I expect you miss him.’

  But Zillah didn’t let herself be side-tracked. ‘I’ve secured the door to the utility room. I don’t want Ruby streaking in and sabotaging your crutches. She’s a fast mover. We daren’t risk you falling again.’

  He groaned. ‘At this rate, you’ll have me feeling like your ancient great-uncle.’

  Ooh, no. Not when he smelt so delicious. Not when his eyes gleamed with merriment and she’d a fair idea he was naked beneath that towelling robe. Don’t go there.

  ‘I’ll bring your post if there’s any,’ she said. ‘You’ll find bread in the bin and food in the fridge. Try to stay horizontal as much as possible. Is your laptop still in the sitting room?’

  ‘It is. So I can at least catch up with some work. If you could bring my appointments diary back with you this evening, that’d be great. I think I’ve updated my computer calendar but I should check.’

  ‘You’d better give me your office keys then.’

  ‘They’re on the chest of drawers in my room. Zak’s room,’ he corrected himself. ‘It’ll be quicker if you fetch them.’

  *

  As Zillah drove out of the city she wondered how many sides there were to Hal. Yes, he had the capacity to be remote and difficult. He could be friendly and, well, highly kissable. And now she found he kept his keys attached to a heavy copper chain announcing it opened the gateway to Alcatraz. There existed a zany sense of humour he kept hidden far too much. She also wondered how long it would take before he was more mobile. Hal was probably hoping he could go straight back to his cottage rather than his room at Mickey’s hostelry.

  It was weird how she’d originally thought sharing with Zak would be fun. In reality, she found his barely-veiled admiration a little annoying. She’d no idea why this should be. There was nothing remotely creepy about him and most women would melt like chocolate in the sunshine if they had hunky Zak to sing for them. On one occasion when they’d peeled vegetables together, he’d sung My Eyes Adored You in a pure caramel tenor voice. There was no pleasing some people. Now she was having a job keeping her hands off her accountant, a man who probably couldn’t wait to escape from his prison wardress.

  Mrs Robinson’s ‘Top up your freezer’ offer was going pretty well. There’d be three deliveries to make later, all of them to elderly customers in central Bath. If she timed it right, she could go straight home after making her calls. The next outside catering job was midweek – an intimate, no expense spared wedding celebration.

  Zillah’s spirits plummeted, realising how quiet the following week would be. While she halted to allow a lorry through a gap in the traffic, she realised she should think hard about her business’s way forward. Very hard. At least there’d be Hal on tap to offer advice if necessary. She selected first gear, gave the lorry driver a wave, and drove on.

  At just after nine, she unlocked her office to find the phone ringing and almost tripped over a chair leg in her haste to get there.

  ‘Mrs Robinson, how may I help you?’

  ‘You can say your name again for me. Hearing your voice sends shivers down my spine.’

  ‘I almost broke a leg trying to reach the phone, for goodness’ sake! What do you want, Zak Silver?’

  He sighed down the line. ‘I want you. But I doubt very much I can have you. Speaking of damaged legs, have you been sitting on Mr Christmas’s chilly lap or do I still stand a chance?’

  Oho – Zillah felt her cheeks warming. Thank goodness Zak couldn’t see her blush like a schoolgirl. He might suspect she really did harbour romantic feelings towards Hal. ‘He and I are becoming friends, I think. Anyway, what are you doing up at this hour?’

  ‘I’m walking to the tube station. Going for my audition. My mate was away last night and I felt like hearing a friendly voice.’

  ‘I guess that means all your London friends are still in the land of nod?’

  ‘There’s no one I’d rather speak to than you. I care about you, Zillah.’ His voice was a purr.

  ‘Why, thank you, Zak. I care about you too. So break a leg or whatever it is I’m supposed to say!’

  ‘Cheers. I’m up for a part in a musical show that’s touring. Something didn’t work out and my agent put me up for it.’

  ‘Well, I hope it works out for you.’ Zillah consulted her watch. ‘I have to go now, Zak. I can hear my right-hand woman arriving.’

  ‘Ah, the lovely Abi. Say hi to her for me and take care, babe.’

  The buzz of whatever city road Zak was walking along ceased.

  Zillah replaced the phone and wondered why Abi was late. Not that there was any great rush. She found her assistant staring into space as if the building might tumble around her and if it did, what did she care.

  ‘Do you want
to tell me what’s wrong?’ Zillah kept her voice even.

  Abi struggled with a sob. ‘Joe. Us. It was horrible, Zillah. We had a row last night.’

  Zillah resisted an urge to say, Oh, is that all! It wasn’t unknown for the couple to have the occasional tiff. ‘You’ll make it up later. You always do.’ She gave Abi a hug. The girl clung to her.

  ‘I don’t think we’ll make up this time. It was a biggie.’

  ‘Not the M word again?’

  ‘Of course the M word again. I do love Joe. You know I love Joe. He knows it too. I just don’t want the whole marriage thing to swing into operation. Not yet. I like being us. As we are.’

  ‘You’ll still be you if you marry Joe,’ said Zillah softly. ‘Have you ever thought he might be afraid of losing you?’

  ‘But why would he be? He knows how I feel about him, even though I don’t have a ring on my finger.’ But Abi sounded a tad unsure.

  ‘Please don’t take this the wrong way, Abi. You’re such a lovely, friendly person, he might fear some other man could get the wrong idea if there’s no outward sign you’re partnered. Someone like Zak, for example, might well make a move. Of course, he knows you’re spoken for.’

  ‘I marked Zak’s card the first time we met! Anyway, that guy has a huge crush on you.’

  ‘He’s an actor. He can’t resist performing. Maybe Zak’s not such a good example. He says to say hi, by the way,’ Zillah added. ‘Joe knows you mix with lots of people when you’re at a function. What does he do with himself when you have to work Saturdays?’

  ‘Sometimes he does a few chores. Cooks something for us to eat later. Watches sport on telly. He might go and have a bite to eat with his mum and dad.’

  ‘Hmm.’ Zillah thought for a moment. ‘He never goes to a party on his own or out for a drink?’

  ‘He likes a beer or two with his squash partner after their Tuesday night game. That’s when I catch up with chores. I’m always there when he gets home. He’s always there when I get back from a function.’

  Zillah suppressed a smile. ‘Forgive me, Abi, but you two already seem to be a married couple.’

  For a moment Abi looked stunned. Then a slow smile spread over her face. ‘Yeah, we do, don’t we?’

  ‘I think it’s a good sign. Marriage is the cementing of a good relationship. You send out a statement of commitment to one another. You forge a bond.’ Zillah’s face softened. ‘And one day, if you want children, you’ve got love and friendship plus mutual commitment as a base to go forward from.’

  ‘Goodness,’ said Abi. ‘Sounds like you wish you could be married.’

  Zillah’s heart seemed to stutter, dipping and swooping like the gulls haunting the Cornish coastline. Abi was probably gasping for a coffee. Zillah’s hands moved swiftly and competently while she struggled with her emotions. It was difficult when she was being teased by the image of a tall man with hair a deeper shade of golden syrup plus broad shoulders made to cry upon. Guilt over her dawning love for Hal and her deep-seated love and sadness over Daniel made for a bittersweet emotion.

  She saw the distraught expression on her young assistant’s face.

  ‘I’m so sorry, Zillah.’ Abi shook her head. ‘That was totally out of order. My tongue runs away with me sometimes.’

  ‘Like it did last night?’

  ‘I’m afraid so. I told Joe to stop hassling me. Said if he didn’t, I’d definitely go out with some other guy, just to annoy him. I know I’m stupid,’ she wailed. ‘I didn’t mean it though. I wouldn’t date anybody else, even if Zak asked me – and he’s definitely eye candy. If a tad old,’ she added.

  ‘Isn’t he just!’ said Zillah, loving the description. ‘And so is Joe. Plus he’s far more dependable than Zak and he loves you to bits. We all say things we don’t mean sometimes. It’s having the guts to admit it then try and repair the damage caused that’s the hard part.’

  She handed Abi a steaming mug. ‘Come on. There’s shortbread in the tin. We’ll sit down and go through today’s jobs. Drink your coffee and send Joe a text, why don’t you? Tell him you love him. Tell him he’s the only man in the world for you.’

  ‘You’re such a softie,’ said Abi, her eyes sparkling again. ‘You should become an agony aunt, Zillah. Make it part of the Mrs Robinson wedding package.’

  Zillah remembered Cara Nancarrow, the lovely bride with cold feet to match her bridegroom’s. How Cara had cried on her shoulder, on her wedding day. ‘Maybe it’s easier to sort out other people’s problems than my own.’

  Abi’s concentration appeared to be elsewhere though her smile was serene. Her thumbs flew as she texted. When she put her phone down, it gave a knee jerk beep. She grabbed it, almost knocking over her mug, which her boss hastily moved away from danger. It was worth it, thought Zillah, seeing the expression upon Abi’s face as she read Joe’s message.

  *

  Back at Zillah’s flat, Hal was inserting his scalpel into Mrs Robinson’s accounts. Zillah had begun a new trading period and he’d suggested taking a look at first soundings. He’d almost been tempted to leave the utility room door ajar but his hostess’s words rang in his ears. He certainly didn’t want to risk further damage to his ankle. He wasn’t normally a cat kind of person but Ruby was something different. He loved the idea of her facing up to the other two divas as Zillah described them. The kitten was a diversion. Not that he needed any such thing when Zillah was around. Hal’s feelings, having fluctuated around the time of the cold war between them, were now firmly focused.

  That first kiss was difficult to forget. As was the embarrassingly silent taxi ride back when he longed to take her hand and reassure her he had no intention of taking advantage of her having drunk a couple of glasses of wine. What happened after that still made him wonder if he’d been hallucinating.

  But equally unforgettable were her words that day outside her office when he’d arrived just in time to hear her describe to Abi just how much she wasn’t attracted to him. That had hurt. Deeply. He’d been shocked at his reaction. If he hadn’t realised it before, that was the moment when he knew he was in love with Mrs Robinson. For better or worse. Probably for worse, in Zillah’s opinion.

  Concentrate, man. Muttering, Hal moved to another item, frowned and checked carefully before tapping numbers into the calculator. He’d advised her a cash injection would help purchase another refrigeration unit as well as keep on the straight and narrow regarding her bank loan. But there was a worrying trend apparent in the last weeks. The cash injection he’d suggested was beginning to appear not just advisable but absolutely vital.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Zillah, looking forward to making supper for two again, wondered if Zak’s arrival had triggered something she’d been burying. Being independent was one thing, constructing a barricade was quite another. Her mum had hinted as much, as had Abi. But it was all very well for onlookers to offer advice. The person in question needed to be the one deciding how to spend her life. And Zillah knew, having been partnered for seventeen years, she badly missed the companionship, the everyday trivial things, woven into the fabric of marriage.

  She knew Daniel wouldn’t have expected her to stay on her own for the rest of her days. He’d told her as much one night, towards the end. She’d stopped his words with a kiss, unwilling to contemplate the void underlying his poignant words. But those words came back to her now as her van ticked over in rush hour traffic and she stole glances at shoppers, sightseers and smartly dressed businessmen and women spilling across crowded pavements.

  Considering her coastal upbringing, Zillah had adapted well to being a townie, despite exhaust fumes and hordes of chattering continental teenagers soaking up culture. Bath was a multifaceted gem and she never tired of exploring its treasures, its parks and alleys and its specialist shops. Cornwall would always stir her blood but she could exist away from it, helped by so many reminders treasured in her late husband’s vibrant depictions of sea storms, peaceful harbours and breath-taking skies ar
ound the flat.

  At last she was on the move again, turning into her road and entering the driveway. Would Hal be pleased to see her or was she being presumptuous? She had a horror of rejection. It was one of the reasons why she hadn’t begun dating. People seemed to think after you’d been widowed for a year or so, you should get out there again. It wasn’t that easy. She was two decades beyond her eighteen-year-old self. Those girlish dreams and career plans had fizzled away in Daniel’s charismatic presence yet rekindled in a different way as she fell more and more deeply in love.

  Yes, she had completed her cookery course. Everyone knew that was the right thing for her. But she hadn’t achieved her full potential nor had she much cared. Life had offered a new path which she’d adored following with her gentle, dreamy artist husband. Trips abroad balanced peaceful days tucked up in their Cornish cottage with its inglenook fireplace. They’d walked and risen early to swim together when the sea’s temperature wouldn’t freeze them to the bone. She’d continued to help in her parents’ hotel, especially during busy periods. There were frequent trips to London and Bath in autumn and winter. Daniel would have understood her decision to relocate in one of their favourite cities.

  Since being left on her own, she’d crafted a new and very different life for herself – one with more deadlines and dilemmas. Even at this stage, she sometimes checked her reflection in the mirror and wondered who that stranger in the smart suit was.

  You mustn’t lose the plot now, she whispered as she climbed out of the driving seat and locked the van. So her venture needed a financial boost? Maybe, just maybe, the answer was literally under her nose. Maybe it was time to lose sentimentality and accept practicality.

  Zillah let herself in through the side gate. A silvery ball of fluff shot from the carrot patch and skidded to a halt beside her. She bent to pick up Ruby. It was cupboard love, for sure. Was that the reason why Hal was being so affable? Because he knew which side of his bread the jam was spread?