Mebel checks to make sure she has tapped on the right contact, then tries again, with the same results this time. Frowning, she goes back indoors.
“Agatha?” she says.
Agatha gives her a tight smile. “Yes?”
“Does Gemma have another number?”
“I don’t know, I’m afraid. We’re not allowed to give out contact information for privacy purposes.”
“Because I just try calling her number, but it says disconnect. Then how?”
Agatha sighs. “Yeah, well, I can’t help you there, I’m afraid.”
“What about her email address? Maybe you can give to me?”
“I can’t do that, sorry.”
Mebel is about to ask for Gemma’s home address in a last-ditch effort when Agatha holds up her hand. “I can’t give you any information about Gemma unless she expressly tells me I have permission to do so.”
A deep sense of sadness overtakes Mebel. Now that the initial panic has ebbed away, Mebel is left feeling, well, really lonely. And what in the world is she going to do about the dish she was supposed to cook with Gemma? She doesn’t have what it takes to come up with an impressive duck dish worthy of a Michelin-starred restaurant on her own.
After thanking Agatha, Mebel walks to the chefs’ offices, where she knocks on Chef Clarke’s door. “Come in,” he calls out. His eyebrows rise when he sees Mebel. “Oh, hello, Mebel. This is a nice surprise. What can I do for you?”
“My partner Gemma drop out of the course.”
Chef Clarke sighs. “Ah, yes. I saw the email when I came out of this morning’s class. That’s a real shame.”
“What email? Gemma send you email?” Mebel says.
“Yes. It was quite brief. It only said how sorry she is to have to drop out in the middle of the semester.”
“She didn’t say why?”
“No.”
“And you don’t ask why?” Mebel says, her voice rising.Aiya, what is wrong with these people? How can they not see that something isn’t right? Why don’t they care enough to ask what has happened?
Chef Clarke frowns at her. “No, because, quite frankly, it’s none of my business, and neither is it any of yours. Now, what can I do for you?”
Mebel struggles with the urge to tell him off for not caring about his students. It won’t go well, she knows. She just needs to let it go for now. Taking a deep breath, Mebel forces herself to focus on something she knows he can fix. “Well, I lose my partner. What should I do for the banquet? I cannot do the course by myself. It’s not fair.” She regrets the words “It’s not fair” as soon as they come out of her mouth, because even though they’re true, they also have the maturity of a whiny toddler. If she were speaking Indonesian, she would be so much more fluent, but, no, she is held back by her broken English.It’s not fair!Her mind says petulantly.
“You’re right,” Chef Clarke says with a sigh. “It is most definitely unfair. Now, I can’t pair you up with anybody else since everyone is paired off—”
“Maybe I can join a pair? Make it a three-person group?”
“I’m afraid not. It wouldn’t be fair to the others.”
Mebel glowers at him. “So is okay to be not fair to me, but not to everyone else? This is discrimination!”
“How about this: you are allowed extra prep time on the day of the banquet to make up for the lack of a partner, and you can come to me to brainstorm your ideas. Those things should give you a good bit of advantage to get ahead.” He looks hopefully at Mebel.
“How much more prep time?”
“Thirty minutes.”
“Impossible. Two hours.”
“One hour extra.”
