By the time Mebel is ready to leave Gemma’s house, she has an entirely new recipe for her duck dish, something she’s confident is completely original.
“And be more careful this time,” Gemma says at the doorway, hugging Mebel. “You can do this, Mebs. I believe in you.”
Mebel returns the hug, closing her eyes for a moment. “Are you sure you not want to come back with me?” she says as she pulls away, her hands still on Gemma’s arms.
Gemma’s smile wavers. “I am. Let me know how the banquet goes. I hope you win.”
“You must reply to my messages, no more ignoring them!” Mebel scolds.
“All right, Mebs. I promise.”
Outside, Alain is looking at his phone. He looks up as Mebel leaves the house and gives Gemma a small wave before turning to Mebel. “Did you figure out a new recipe?”
“Yes, but I not telling you. I don’t trust anybody from now on.”
Alain laughs. “You can’t tell even me? But I’m not in the competition.”
“Sure, but how I know if you are good at keeping secret or not?” Mebel says breezily, walking ahead of him.
“Oh, I’m good at keeping some secrets,” Alain murmurs, snaking his arm around her waist and pulling her close.
Mebel’s cheeks heat up. She is suddenly eager to leave the Cotswolds and go back to Oxford, where she and Alain will no doubt tumble into bed like a pair of overgrown teens.
Afterward, Mebel lies languorously inAlain’s bed, luxuriating in the creamy rich bedsheets and the wideness of the bed. God, what she wouldn’t do to have a bigger bed than the sad little single in her dorm room. Then again, because her room only has a sad little single, it’s made her far more appreciative of a proper king bed.
After kissing her temple, Alain gets out of the bed and goes into the bathroom to shower. Mebel remains there, smiling lazily and going over the events of the day. She’s found Gemma, who seems okay(ish), and she’s come home with a brilliant new recipe. The thought of the recipe makes Mebel jolt upright in bed. Where did she put the recipe? She clambers out nakedand grabs her handbag, rummaging through it. There it is, tucked safely into the inside pocket of her Dior. She sighs with relief. She knows better now, and she is going to guard this baby with her life.
As Mebel puts her handbag to one side, she notices a sheaf of papers on the table. She wasn’t planning on snooping; she really isn’t the type to do that. She’s merely curious, that’s all, and can anyone blame her? After all, she’s gone through several huge life changes the past few months, and given her relationship with Alain, it’s only natural for her to want to know more about his life.
Stop trying to justify it, her mind mutters.
Okay, so she is snooping. And she’s not even sorry about it.
Glancing at the bathroom to make sure Alain is still in the shower, Mebel riffles through the papers. They don’t seem to be anything particularly interesting. Contracts for his various restaurants. Then she catches sight of the words “Saint Honoré Oxford banquet,” and some strange instinct makes her pause. In the bathroom, the shower has turned off. Mebel hurriedly grabs her phone and takes photos of the contract before replacing the stack of papers to their original position.
By the time Alain comes out of the bathroom with a towel wrapped around his waist, Mebel is back in bed, looking as innocent as someone who definitely would not think of riffling through his private documents. She smiles as he kisses her cheek, then takes her phone into the bathroom, where she glances over the photos of the documents, trying her best to parse through the words. English is a confusing enough language on its own, but when paired with legalese, it becomes absolutely diabolical. She feels silly. What is she even looking for, anyway?This is nothing but a bunch of papers talking about stuff she knows nothing about, so after a minute or two, Mebel gives up and climbs into the shower.
When she comes out of the bathroom, Alain serves her a freshly made cappuccino.
“Thank you,” she says. She studies him as he moves around the room, though what she is looking for, she isn’t sure. It’s just that…the thing about being cheated on after so many years of marriage is that it has utterly broken up her confidence. She used to think she was smart. She used to think that if Henk was hiding anything, surely she would know. Her instincts would kick off alarm bells and she would sniff out the truth. But she hadn’t, not ever. Not until Henk himself was the one who lifted the veil, and then Mebel realized that she was nowhere near as smart or perceptive as she’d thought. And now, those painful feelings of doubt are crowding in once more. She’d seen Alain as a romantic Frenchman, a gifted chef, and a good businessman, and she hadn’t spared another thought about him as a person, but now she finds herself trying to get a better grasp on who Alain is as a human.
“Are you all right?” Alain says as he buttons up his shirt.
“Yes,” Mebel says, with a start. She blushes at the thought of him catching her staring. Lifting her coffee mug, she takes a long sip. “I think I go back to school now, work on my new recipe.”
“Sounds good. I will order a car to take you.”
And for the first time, Mebel is glad to leave Alain’s company.
As soon as Mebel opensthe door to the foyer of the school, Agatha looks up and says, “Oh, Mebel! You’ve got visitors.”
Mebel’s first thought is that Gemma has changed her mind and reenrolled back in the school, but she doesn’t even have time to say, “I do?” before a painfully familiar male voice says, “Mebel?”
She turns around, and it is as though she has just been plunged into a dream world, because there, standing in the reception area of the Saint Honoré School of Culinary Arts, Cowley, is Henk. And behind him are Sammy, Hannah, and their children: Luciana, Freydis, and Aegilfu.
“Ama!” Luciana says, rushing forward and wrapping her little arms around Mebel.
It takes a second for Mebel’s senses to slam back into her body, and with a cry of joy, Mebel hugs Luciana tight. “Oh my goodness,” she says in Indonesian. “You’ve grown so tall in just a few months!”
