‘I bet we could,’ he replied with a grin, liking her style. Direct, pretty and confident, Zdenka was his kind of woman. Someone who knew the score, was looking for a little fun and not out for commitment. Someone who didn’t make his stomach contract in alarm.
‘Leo’s flat has an amazing roof terrace,’ said Jan.
‘That sounds perfect.’ Zdenka’s eyes widened playfully. ‘Tell me more.
‘What do you want to know?’ asked Leo. ‘It has a great view, a table and chairs and it’s pretty private.’
Zdenka whipped out her phone. ‘What are you doing the weekend after next?’
Leo laughed, again appreciating her direct, no-nonsense, no-beating-about-the-bush approach. She knew what she wanted and she went out to get it.
‘I’m not sure I have any plans yet.’
‘And your girlfriend?’
Leo smiled at the not so idle question. ‘I don’t have one. Anna is my roommate.’
‘Ah,’ she said, her satisfaction obvious.
‘Why don’t you come round and inspect my roof terrace?’ Leo asked.
‘I can do that. Why don’t you give me your number?’ She handed him her phone.
‘You work fast,’ he said, his mouth twisting in amusement, taking it from her.
‘Why not?’ She lifted her shoulders in an elegant shrug, raising her dark brows at him. ‘Who comes late harms himself.’
‘Zdenka!’ Michaela chided her in a teasing tone. ‘Leave him alone. You’ve only met him.’ She took the phone from Leo and handed it back to her.
‘But he’s so pretty,’ she said with a pout, not seeming the least bit put out at Michaela’s intervention. Around them everyone laughed.
‘Leo, why don’t you come and help me and Anna in the kitchen.’ He couldn’t help noticing the severe reprimanding glare she sent at Zdenka as she tugged him away.
The tiny kitchen looked like the aftermath of a party rather than the prelude. There were utensils covering every surface, empty cartons and packets strewn amongst them along with bags of flour and discarded potato skins. In the midst of it all Anna stood over a bowl, using a fork to bind together a mixture of egg, potato and flour. He noticed the counter space immediately around her was clear and chuckled to himself. He could bet she’d been trying to impose some sort of order.
He came to stand behind her, poking his head over her shoulder at the ingredients in the bowl.
‘Trust you to turn up when the work’s been done,’ said Anna with a dramatic heavy sigh, wrinkling her nose. ‘She made me grate the potatoes.’
‘Of course,’ said Michaela, with a gay laugh.
‘So what’s in them?’ Leo nodded down at the bowl.
‘Pre-cooked potato, peeled and then grated, then you add flour, egg and some salt.’
Michaela inspected Anna’s work.
‘That’s about done. Now you need to take it and roll it into a cylinder that will fit in this pan.’ She pointed to a pan of water heating on the hob.
‘Okay,’ said Anna.
Leo leaned back against the cabinets, watching her work. As always when she was carrying out a task, she was completely absorbed, her head down and her lips pinched together.
‘You can help,’ said Michaela, throwing him a tea towel.
‘No problem,’ he said, crossing to the sink and the haphazard pile of utensils on the drying rack. At any moment the whole lot could come crashing down like Jenga. He gingerly eased one of the larger pans from the top and began to dry it.
‘So what’s on the menu?’
