Page 87 of So, I Met This Guy . . .

Taking a silk headscarf out of her bag, she proceeded to deftly wrap up her hair in an elaborate turban as Maggie watched her in fascination. Honestly, she couldn’t look more fabulous. Meanwhile her own frizzy curls were pulled back into an elastic scrunchie.

‘Where’s your cute little friend?’

‘Hiking a volcano.’

‘Wowee. She’s got some energy, that one. A real firecracker.’

‘Yes, I know.’ Maggie smiled fondly as she thought about Flick’s earlier excitement. But this was coupled with a pang of anxiety. She hoped she wouldn’t do anything stupid up there. It was an active volcano after all. ‘So, what a coincidence, seeing you here!’

‘Oh, I don’t know about that. I don’t believe in coincidences, do you?’

‘Allora!’

The Godmother appeared beside them, rapping the countertop with a spatula.

‘The pasta must be rolled thin before we make the lasagne!’

That said, if you were talking hot and dangerous with the risk of violent eruptions, look no further than this kitchen. And we’re not just talking The Godmother. Huge frying pans of hot oil were bubbling and smoking on the giant stove, into which slices of aubergine were being dropped; butternut squash (and students’ fingers) were being roasted until the flesh was tender; and there was a very dicey situation going on with the young man from Boston, an electric whisk and the bechamel.

‘She’s very serious,’ muttered Maggie, as The Godmother moved on to the next nervous students.

‘Food is a serious business.’ Birdy rolled out the dough with surprising expertise. ‘I’ve had countless men fall in love with me for my buttermilk fried chicken and mashed potatoes.’

‘They sound delicious.’

‘Well, I wouldn’t know, honey. I never ate any.’

‘Whyever not?’

‘I was keeping my figure.’ Birdy patted her tiny waist. ‘But I can tell you something. They didn’t marry me for what I could do in the kitchen. Do you know what I’m saying?’

As Birdy raised an eyebrow and let out a low chuckle, Maggie blushed.

‘You ever been married?’

‘Once. A long time ago.’

‘You’re just getting started.’ She laughed as she rolled out the dough and passed a piece to Maggie to feed through the pasta maker to make into lasagne sheets.

‘I don’t think so.’ Maggie shook her head. ‘I was engaged recently, but . . .’

‘It didn’t work out?’

‘That’s kind of an understatement.’

‘Don’t tell me. He’s gay.’

Maggie blinked. ‘Excuse me?’

‘Sorry, that’s me projecting. Husband number five was a lavender marriage. I was the last to find out. We’re the best of friends now, though; I love his new husband. Total hottie and a real hoot.’

It was as if she had no filter and Maggie listened with amazement. Something about being with Birdy made her own story seem less shocking somehow.

‘He was a fraudster.’

The words just came out.

‘Oh, aren’t they all.’ Birdy shook her head and carried on rolling.