“Go,team!”she cried, harking back to her days as netball captain.
“Go team,” Saskia repeated with a chuckle, but yep, she had gone pink. And then she was on the move. “See you later,” she muttered on the way out.
Interesting, interesting, interesting…
Chapter Seventeen
Saskia
“Caterers, caterers… why are there no pissing caterers in Cornwall?” Saskia muttered to herself a few hours later.
This was a misstatement, of course. There were a bazillion caterers in Cornwall, just as there were probably a bazillion around the rest of the country. Indeed, Saskia currently had a bazillion tabs open on her laptop, each holding the website of a different caterer or other food establishment service. She’d expanded her search across the entirety of Cornwall, and even one or two in Bristol. Although she doubted that they would want to make the three-hour journey, even if it was for the daughter of one of the world’s best modern-day musicians.Not that anybody is allowed to know that, Saskia. She only told you so that you can honour Eulalia’s memory in the wedding.
“For God’s sake,” Saskia muttered as she scratched yet another one off the list. There were none that seemed to bejust right.Most were too expensive. Others too far away. Many didn’t cater for Cass’s nut allergy. Several didn’t pass Saskia’s ‘vibe check’ – perhaps a trite reason to strike them off, but Saskia had learned a long time ago to trust her gut. On matters such as this, at least. Her gut had been very wrong about some other things,but wasn’t that part of the reason she was doing this now? To apologise to the universe? To compensate?
Everything had to be just right for Cass and Felicia. She had decided already. There was something about the perfectly-matched pair that had struck a note in her – her softest note. They had been so kind, so sincere in their love for each other, that she wanted nothing less than the best for them. This was why she was sitting in her room, ignoring the tempting smell of chocolate cake that was wafting up the stairs from Kivi’s kitchen, and swearing at her own laptop.
“Perhaps I’ll have better luck looking at bakeries,” she muttered, opening up a new window entirely. Her laptop took that opportunity to activate its fan in protest, making a droning noise akin to a plane about to take off and blowing a load of hot air out onto Saskia’s shorts-clad legs. She winced and shifted positions, then sighed. Felicia had said that “most eating places won’t touch allergies with a bargepole these days”, and she was quickly finding this to be true.
As she waited for the laptop to calm down, wishing to avert potential spontaneous combustion, Saskia thought back to the contents of the meeting. Specifically, the bit where theyhadtalked about food. Kivi had been about to go and make the toasted sandwiches, when Cass had stopped her.
“Before you do that, you should know,” she’d said, “I have a… problem. When it comes to eating.”
Kivi had frozen – and Saskia thought she’d darted a quick glance inherdirection, although she didn’t see why. Cass had clearly realised what she’d said, because she’d rapidly backtracked.
“No – not an eating disorder!” She’d shaken her head, and pulled a face. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to phrase it like that. I have anut allergy. So it can make eating very difficult when I’m out and about. If you’re not comfortable cooking for me with an allergy, that’s absolutely fine. I can eat something when I’m home.”
“Not at all,” Kivi said – and Saskia had watched her almost deflate with relief. “We’re a nut-free establishment here. Even the toiletries.”
“Toiletries?” Saskia had wondered aloud, and that had segued into a conversation about nuts while Kivi cooked. But now Saskia wondered exactly why Kivi had looked over at her.She couldn’t possibly have guessed. HOW could she have possibly guessed?
Saskia was probably asking for trouble, taking on the responsibility of acquiring the caterers. After all, one of the only ways she kept her… little eating idiosyncrasies… at bay, was tonotpay too much attention to what she was actually eating. Easier said than done, when everything Kivi produced was so delicious. If she thought too much about food, then she might start thinking about the calories, and if she paid too much attention to the calories…
“No,” she said aloud now. “No. You are not going back there. You’ll just have to do the best you can. Because we sure as hell aren’t tellingthemhow we struggle with food.”
Bythem,of course, she meant all of them. Kivi, Cass, Felicia and the alters… any of them. Even if Kivi guessed, which was highly unlikely. Saskia had come out the other side of a bad relationship with food and recovered, entirely by herself. She didn’t need anybody else’s opinion now, when she was doing better than she had done in a decade.
Kivi was certainly… insightful, though. She had a way of looking at Saskia that made her feel like her skin and bones were glass, absolutely no use at covering the roiling thoughts andemotions within. It had made her feel very exposed, in their brief conversation after the meeting. She had been able to feel her face turning red, and she had thanked God when Kivi had abruptly changed the subject.
At dinner that evening, Saskia was still picking at her macaroni cheese when Kivi sat down opposite her. She looked exhausted after the dinner rush, but she still smiled at Saskia. “What do you think?”
“Sorry?”
Kivi nodded at the macaroni cheese. “I’ve not made it before. I’m trialling some new, quicker recipes, since I’ll have less time to cook, and that’s one of them. What’s your opinion? Is it all right?”
So much for not thinking too much about food,Saskia thought, but swallowed her mouthful and replied. “It’s good. It’s… cheesy.”
“Good. I put a shit ton of cheese in there, so I’d hope so. Is it… like, bland, or anything?”
“No, not bland,” Saskia said. “Uh… salty? Oniony?”
“That’ll be the spring onions and the salt then. Any other thoughts?”
“Do I look like Gordon Ramsay to you?” Saskia sniped before she could stop herself. The way Kivi was looking at her, it felt almost like she was challenging her. “This isn’tMasterchef.”
“Gordon Ramsay never didMasterchef,” Kivi said mildly. “He didKitchen Nightmares,if I remember rightly.”
“He did do Masterchef. In the US. And kitchensarea nightmare for me, so I’m not the best person to comment,” Saskia said. She couldn’t look at Kivi, and she could feel her face turning red again.
