Blue and Green Should Never be Seen! (Or so Mother says)

by Colette Kebell

  I didn’t wake up in time for breakfast or, at least, I had a lie-in. Raffaele probably sneaked out very early to assist in the kitchen. Blimey, it was already eleven in the morning and, for sure, Natalie and Caroline Porter had already left.

  I had a warm shower, but that didn’t wake me up completely either. With the restaurant officially open, a few people had started coming through the door by the time I went downstairs. I popped into the kitchen and said a quick hello to Raffaele, who was busy preparing for the lunch service. I thought about taking one of the bicycles that we had in the shed, but the weather wasn’t promising and I still had a lot of work to take care of, so I drove home.

  It was comforting receiving a few messages of thanks, including from Timothy and Natalie, but to be honest the dangling sword of Caroline Porter was the one that worried me. What a disaster it would be if she said something negative! I spent the afternoon working on the bloggers’ files; we had some decisions to make the following Monday and I wanted to be fully prepared.

  Raffaele came home very late and we barely spoke; he was still fuming about our discussion earlier. If I’d had the power to turn the clock back, I would have done it immediately. I knew my nature was impulsive, but I had to do better, much better, if I wanted to succeed both in my private life and in my career.

  The week went by uneventfully, and that included my private life. We were giving the final push to get the bloggers on board and I worked until late at night every single day. Maybe it was an excuse to avoid another confrontation with Raffaele and although he was more relaxed about it (he said that, eventually, food critics would have made an appearance anyway), I still felt guilty. There was nothing I could do about it; that was me, but even if he wasn’t upset any more I couldn’t stop beating myself up about it. I kept thinking about how I could have managed things differently, what I should have said.

  The good news came towards the end of the week, and it was Tom himself bringing it to us. “We won!” he shouted, coming into the office and fluttering a piece of paper in the air as if it was a victory flag.

  We all knew what he was talking about: the elephant in the room that nobody had dared to mention during all this time – the litigation against Barnes concerning these premises. The fact was that Jasper had also tried to evict all the other tenants in the building. Tom researched it and found out that half of the offices were empty – surely Jasper’s doing – but all the remaining ones were as upset as we were.

  We looked at each other in disbelief when Tom fell silent: a lawyer’s trick, for sure, to create more drama.

  “Come on, Tom! Don’t leave us hanging here,” shouted Ritchie, who was already on his feet and ready to grab the paper from him.

  “Guys, let’s go into the meeting room; this is something everybody needs to hear,” I said. We went into the boardroom (we called it that, but in reality it was a meeting room just slightly bigger than the other two), and for once I felt as if we were a proper business. I looked at Osheena, Ritchie, Jacob and the two bloggers who had started that very week. Indeed, it looked like a proper team, a real firm, by now.

  “Tom, please go ahead; we’re all in trepidation to hear the news.”

  “Well, as you know, I visited all the other tenants in this building.” Oh dear, he was going for the long version. That would be worse than awaiting the results of the X Factor: a lot of pauses and tricks to keep us hanging on every single word he was going to say.

  “I soon found out that they’d all received the same letter you had,” he continued. We all nodded. “Believe me, some of the guys were really upset, but I managed to get them on board, one by one. Once I explained that we needed to fight united, half the job was done.” He was putting a lot of emphasis into his speech. I guess everybody deserves their own Braveheart moment in life.

  “I’ll save you all the effort I had to put in, in analysing the contracts, tenancy agreements, letters and emails. Believe me, it was hard work, but someone had to do it.” People would have laughed (had they known him) at his attempt to be serious. “The judge was implacable and for a moment we thought everything was lost. It was only after a strenuous battle and my willingness to face peril that eventually justice prevailed.”

  Ritchie intervened: “By losing, you could have started a new career as a comedian.” Everybody laughed, but Tom kept his poker face on and continued undaunted. “At the very last minute, we were able to swing the judgment in our favour. We found the smoking gun, that very piece of evidence that every detective dreams about coming across and, by presenting it, the judge (who was surely in Barnes’ pocket) couldn’t deny us justice.” And so, he rested his case, as if we were his jury, and recited his closing statement.

  We looked at each other in disbelief, when finally Osheena asked the question that everybody in the room was thinking that very same moment, “Which was?”

  Tom took a deep breath, like a teacher annoyed by having to explain every single detail to his pupils, and answered, “Barnes had planning permission to demolish this building and erect instead a set of new condos, the expensive kind. Once I’d made clear to the judge that the real reason behind the eviction was pure greed, his hands were tied. He had to agree with us,” he said in a grave voice, shaking his head and nodding to his little audience, as if to celebrate the victory of justice against felony.

  We all sighed with relief and after congratulating Tom for his heroic effort, saving all of us from despair, there was only one remaining question to ask.

  “Was Jasper in court?” asked Ritchie.

  “He was indeed, and so was his ex-wife. If looks could kill, I wouldn’t like to be their poor lawyer. He was quiet in court, but as soon as they exited, the shouting and screaming started. Blimey, he was livid. His face was completely red when he was shouting and for a moment I thought he was going to have a heart attack.”

  People were cheering about the unexpected victory and as soon as I had captured Ritchie’s attention I gave him a sign. It was time.

  He put his feet down and repeatedly hit a glass with his pen, in order to capture the audience’s attention. “Ladies and Gentlemen,” he started, “today we celebrate the victory against the empire of evil, but the good news hasn’t ended.” People started looking at each other, expecting some kind of joke, which wouldn’t have been completely strange coming from Ritchie.

  “As a firm we’re doing great. Well, you know very well we are, but I assure you there have been times when GiGi and I have scratched our heads and seriously thought we would be better off on a remote island taking care of a flock of sheep. That is no longer the case.”

  Come on, get to the point, I thought, and looking at the other’s faces they were probably thinking the same.

  “The first piece of good news is that, for this year, we will all enjoy a healthy bonus.” Cheers erupted. “We haven’t worked out the figures yet, but we’ll be as generous as we can.”

  Cheers erupted in the room again. We were new to the business – having to deal with other people, that is – as it had always been Ritchie and me for all those years. We were learning quickly that, by working as a team, we would be even more successful. All of them were working hard to make this firm successful; they deserved to be recognised.

  “The second bit of good news is that Osheena and Jacob have been promoted to partners, effective immediately.”

  For a moment, the room fell silent as that information started to sink in. Then they both dropped their jaws in surprise. They were looking at each other, as if to confirm that they’d heard correctly. The first one to speak was Jacob and in a squeaky, trembling voice, he asked, “Are you kidding us? You mean, partners partners?”

  Everyone laughed at their surprise and suddenly people started clapping their hands. Jacob became red-faced, like a little pupil caught in an embarrassing situation.

  “But …why?” Osheena asked then.

  “Well, in your case because of all your work on the internet – setting up the website,
the blog, getting the bloggers working with us, in addition to taking care of your clients,” answered Ritchie “And more, which at the moment I forget. Trust me, you deserve it. You already work as if you’re an integral part of this firm, not as a simple employee, and both GiGi and I recognise that. And you, Jacob: your brilliant job with our top customers. You almost bring in more revenue than anyone else, and the clients all adore you. I can’t think about this firm without you any more. We had to do something.”

  Osheena was crying; she’d been stuck in a job that she hated when we met and now she was in control of her own destiny. We had given her the chance of shaping her new work and she’d done it brilliantly.

  “How can I ever thank you?” She started sobbing, but Ritchie was already by her side and gave her a comforting hug. If someone had asked why I was getting up in the morning and doing what I do, I would have answered, “To get the chance of seeing days like this.”

  The meeting was soon over and everybody went back to their work in good spirits.

  CHAPTER 38

  Jasper was out of the equation (or so I thought), but his presence remained between Raffaele and me. We had our final row a few days afterwards, when probably we said way too many things; things that we would possibly regret in the future.

  His main point, to my surprise, was not about Jasper or Caroline Porter. “You work too much; we barely see each other,” he said.

  “I know that, but for once we’re being really successful. We have lots to do; we’re thinking about expanding further …”

  “When will it be enough? How big does your firm have to be, before you slow down?”

  I admit I hadn’t thought about that. For me, it was my creation, something that Ritchie and I had built, and frankly we’d never thought deeply about where we’d want to stop. If ever. Don’t they say that in Dragon’s Den? To be successful, a business also has to be scalable. Who knows what the future had lined up for me? Maybe my own brand of designer clothes, or perhaps a perfume. Who knows?

  “I don’t know when I want to stop – I mean, not yet; there’s so much to do.” I tried to justify myself. But maybe I shouldn’t have; after all, it was my own life we were talking about. “You have your own business too; you know it takes effort to make it work.”

  “GiGi, I’m not working harder than any other chef. On the contrary, I’ve found a very capable sous-chef, who can cover for me whenever I want. Life is there to be enjoyed. Sure, we have to work, but it shouldn’t be instead of having a private life. I sorted out things in such a way that I could be free to spend time with you. What have you done on that front?”

  I was furious. How dare he ask me to renounce my job? Technically, he hadn’t asked that; he’d asked me to slow down, which was somewhat fair, but that wasn’t the point. The point was that … Well, I had to admit that I didn’t know yet what the point was, but that wasn’t the point either. I was trying to build for our future, to have something that was really mine.

  We went on for hours and eventually we decided that it was better to take a break from each other; maybe the distance would help to clear our minds a bit more. To be honest it wasn’t exactly a joint decision; it was more me saying I had to think stuff over and see how I settled. He was more on the “Let’s try to figure out something together” idea, but honestly, I couldn’t see how I could have slowed down right at that moment, with all the success I was having. Eventually I packed my stuff (fortunately, most of my clothes were still at my place) and left.

  I was right.

  I was a hundred per cent sure I was right.

  So, what was that feeling, all that sadness, that engulfed me while I was driving home? I could barely see the road, I was shattered, in tears and crying like a baby. I reached home and looked at the empty fridge and soon realised how much I loved Raffaele, how we enjoyed our dinners. Even the one I’d prepared was a funny moment, although it had been inedible. I missed our time together already – our laughter, the simple moments spent on the sofa cuddling each other.

  Gosh, how I cried that night!

  Jasper came to visit us the following day and that was indeed unexpected.

  Jonathan, Ritchie’s boyfriend, had turned up at the office to take him out for lunch and was just saying, “What a lovely office you have here,” when Jasper popped in.

  We were all by the main entrance exchanging greetings and we saw Ritchie sprinting as if he was Usain Bolt; he narrowly avoided Jonathan by a bare inch by twisting his body, and before we could even say “Dolce and Gabbana” he had smashed his fist into Jasper’s nose.

  I’m not a violent type, but hey, it was like watching Mike Tyson at his best. Shame he didn’t bite his ears off.

  Jasper fell to the ground like a dropped sack of potatoes and thank God that with Jonathan’s reflexes the boxing match didn’t turn into a cage fight. My money would have been on Ritchie, anyway.

  “YOU BASTARD! HOW DARE YOU SHOW YOUR FACE IN HERE …?” Ritchie was shouting, while his partner tried to keep him away from Jasper, who was now sitting by the door with a handkerchief in his hand, trying to stop the bleeding.

  “Jonathan, take him to the other room. Please,” I wasn’t happy to have him removed from the hall, but I also wanted to avoid him having a criminal record.

  “What are you doing here, Jasper?” I asked, while he was getting up. Good. Not too much damage done – or maybe it was bad: I still hadn’t made my mind up.

  “I come in peace; I have an offer to make,” he finally said, cleaning his nose and sorting out his jacket.

  “What d’you mean, an offer? I’ve heard enough of that from you in the past and you should know what my answer is,” I retorted. I was ready to punch him myself.

  “It’s a different one, this time. Is there somewhere we could talk?”

  I accompanied him to the boardroom and then went to get Osheena and Jacob, the new partners and, if he had calmed down enough, even Ritchie.

  “I don’t mind hearing what the slippery snake has to say,” Ritchie said. Jonathan had managed to temper his rage but obviously he was still red in the face. “Whatever he says, it’s going to be a lie.”

  “Sure; but we can always say ‘no’, and to be honest I’m not inclined to listen to him either. But let’s just see what he wants,” I said.

  We went back in the boardroom where our other two partners were already waiting. They were fuming; I could see the belligerent look on their faces. I sat opposite Jasper and kept Ritchie on my right, ready to stop him if he looked as if he was going to punch our unwanted guest again.

  “OK, Jasper; have your say.”

  He looked around and said “All four of you? I don’t think what I have to say is for the staff to hear.”

  If he didn’t choose his words carefully, he’d be at the receiving end of Osheena’s and Jacob’s punches this time, and possibly mine too.

  “It’s not your concern who’s listening or who isn’t. I repeat, say what you have to say,” I said; my voice was almost trembling. I was upset, and struggling not to give him a tongue-lashing.

  “Very well; you manage your firm the way you like,” he said, showing his disapproval of the situation. “The reality is that even if you’ve won in court, I can still throw you out of this building in a couple of years’ time; we have a clause for that.”

  Gee, he was arrogant; how in hell had I thought at some point that he was attractive? I must have been drunk.

  He continued, “I’m prepared to make you an offer, but it’ll be valid only for a few days. Consider it carefully, because there won’t be another one.” He paused and looked at each one of us as if to make his point clear. “I can offer you fifty thousand pounds if you leave next month. Cash. Where you go is none of my business, and the offer isn’t negotiable. Think about it.”

  Ritchie was the first to answer, “I’ll tell you what you can do with your offer: you can shove it up …”

  “Ritchie!” I said, stopping him mid-sentence and putting my hand
on his arm – both to emphasise he shouldn’t get himself into more trouble and also to have a firm grip on him in case he tried to assault Jasper again.

  To my surprise, and before I could say anything, both Osheena and Jacob intervened. “You can forget about that,” she said, which was followed by Jacob’s “No way.”

  Jasper tried to add, “It isn’t your call to …” but I stopped him mid-sentence.

  “Hold your horses, cowboy. Everybody here has a say, and you’d better start listening.”

  Ritchie regained control of himself, looked at me and, when I smiled at him, he said, “Well, I think the majority of this firm has taken a decision. Which is – we reject your offer, just to make it clear.”

  Jasper’s face was red with anger and no doubt frustration; he was attempting to say something else when Jacob intervened. “This meeting is over. You can either walk out now or we can accompany you.” He then grinned at Ritchie, who was ready for a second round.

  The message was received by Jasper, who stood up and left the room. As soon as he closed the door, a chorus of “Hurrah!” exploded in the room.

  Someone even showed fingers at the door.

  CHAPTER 39

  Caroline Porter’s review was in the paper; Rachel showed it to me that morning. I took the paper, but avoided reading it until I had my coffee ready and was within the safety of my office.

  I sat at my desk and opened the Mail.

  New Restaurant Review by Caroline Porter

  Today I want to tell you about a new restaurant in Surrey: The Skittish Endeavours Gastro Pub.

  Some of you living around Warlingham might remember the old name, the White Horse. Well, forget about that; the restaurant is now in a very different league and nothing to do with the old trough.