I can’t believe she’s going to smoke amid all the hung meat and cheese rounds. I must be frowning, because she holds one towards me.
‘Want one?’
‘Ha! No. I haven’t had a cigarette since I was nine,’ I say, glancing at my watch. There are way not enough hours in the day. ‘I didn’t think chefs were supposed to smoke – doesn’t it ruin the palate?’
‘I have three a week,’ Anis says.
‘Must be hard, though, to be working for two dudes,’ I offer, nearly gagging at the wine.
‘Believe me, I can handle working for James and Russell,’ she says. ‘I’m a half-Malaysian woman who did four years in the British Army.’
‘Ha, fair enough,’ I reply.
We hear the door swing open and I’m relieved that Roxy is finally here. But the footsteps are too heavy for Roxy and I panic, trying to position my body in front of the wine, clutching the menu awkwardly, as Russell appears in bottle-green tweed plus-fours and a billowing white cotton shirt, almost as though we summoned him.
‘Who the hell is smoking down here?’
Despite what she’s just said, Anis looks utterly aghast.
‘Me,’ I say, raising my finger, painting on my most meek and submissive face, which I hate having to do, but brand-new-to-the-job-and-rules Heather can better absorb a ticking off.
‘You can’t smoke down here,’ he snaps. ‘This is not some Scottish spinster speakeasy. You shouldbothknow better.’
‘I’m so sorry – we used to do it at my old work. In the cellar. Anis was just giving me what for.’
Russell studies my face, then looks across to Anis, whose head has dropped, and I realize even the army hasn’t prepared her for Captain Cock.
‘I’m sorry, Russell. A misstep. It won’t happen again.’
‘No, it won’t,’ he says. ‘Tom is here, from Inveraray Wholesale – he wants to go through their buyer’s list. I presume you’re not too busy?’ Then he notices the wine I’ve been trying to shield. ‘Put the rest of those returns on the Specials list,’ he snaps. ‘And try to move them this week, please?’
‘Oh, you want to sell them twice?’ I say.
He narrows his eyes at me, and a deep crease tries to appear between his eyebrows. It’s so odd that I forget what we’re discussing for a moment and wonder if he’s had Botox.
‘Irene’s just explained your idea for British wines for the Wine Society event. It’s actually got a bit of merit. Why don’t you find out if Tom can help source them for you?
‘Oh, that’s great. You liked the idea?’
‘Now, please. Let’s go,’ he snaps, motioning to the stairs.
‘Yes, Chef.’
We make our way into the kitchen and out towards the bar, and although I’m practically running I can’t keep up with Russell. Hestops to glare at me impatiently.It’s a marvel, really, how quickly I’ve got on the wrong side of the boss. Under a week! A Birdy record.
Russell guides me towards a man who has his back to us, sitting at a small table surrounded by pamphlets and an open laptop that looks older than mine.
‘Tom,’ Russell says. ‘You probably know Heather, of course?’
‘Hi, Heather,’ Tom says, a smile spreading across his face. He’s kind of handsome, with shaggy blond hair and pink cheeks.Wait, he knows me?
‘Hi, Tom.’ My heart starts thumping in my chest as he kisses me on both cheeks. I smell very liberally applied body spray permeating from him, and I try not to recoil.
Then he pulls back and looks at my face, head cocked to the side. ‘I thought we’d met, but I guess not,’ he says with a smile. ‘My bad.’
‘I’m sorry, your face is not familiar to me, either,’ I say, sitting down in the leather chair opposite him and grinning. ‘I’d definitely remember it.’ I know it’s terribly flirtatious, but it’s my only weapon here.
‘I have to talk to Irene,’ says Russell. ‘I’ll leave you both to it?’
