Twenty-one
Fiona was silent.
‘What’s going on? Tell me,’ hissed Kim.
‘I can’t,’ said Fiona. ‘You’ll have to ask Rose.’
Kim stood, walked to the coat rack and slipped her nail file into her handbag. Fiona eyed Kim’s winter coat enviously. With winter just around the corner, Fiona had started jogging back up the hill after work in her raincoat to stay warm.
The staffroom door opened, admitting Ru and George, followed by Josh. ‘What’s Josh doing here?’ whispered Kim. The men sat, Ru choosing the empty seat between Fiona and Kim. ‘What’s on the menu tonight Ruben?’ asked Kim silkily.
Last to join, Rose pointedly shut the door behind her. ‘Before the chefs brief us, I’ve got something to say. There’s no nice way of putting this – we’re a small team, and it appears there’s a rotten apple in our basket.’ Fiona sensed the tension in the room rising like a well-timed soufflé.
Rose ploughed on. ‘It’s been brought to my attention that there’s some wine missing.
Valuable wine, including some particularly expensive South African bottles.
’ She looked meaningfully at Ru, who kept his face blank.
‘For now, we are not involving the police. George and I would prefer to deal with this privately, to give the culprit the opportunity to make amends.’ Her eyes circled the team.
Josh shuffled in his chair. Kim sat back in hers with her arms crossed over her chest. Outside, rain lashed against the windows, but inside the only sound was the gentle hiss of the old radiators.
Fiona wouldn’t have handled it like Rose – publicly accusing a team member of theft in front of the entire team.
Oblivious to the charged atmosphere, Rose battled on: ‘If anyone knows anything, please come and see me. I promise any information will be dealt with in the strictest confidence. As a precautionary measure, we’ve installed a new lock on the cellar.
Only George and I know the combination. All wine orders other than house wine must come through me. Any questions?’
‘Why are you so sure it’s an inside job? What about a guest?’ suggested Josh.
‘The cellar is always locked,’ said Rose, ‘and there’s no sign of forced entry. If it was a guest, someone on the inside must have helped them.’
Rose’s eyes circled the room as if waiting for someone to confess. After a few moments, George broke the silence, clearing his throat and saying, ‘Right, that’s enough drama for one session. Tonight’s specials: for the vegetarians ...’
Fiona flipped open her notebook. She felt pressure against her thigh and glanced down.
Ru’s leg was pressed against her own. As if someone had dialled down the volume button on George, Fiona didn’t register what the chef said, her mind wrestling with her conscience, wanting so much to respond to the pressure she felt.
‘Ruben,’ George continued, ‘I’ll let you explain the fish dish.’
As he stood up, his leg shifted sideways, making Fiona wonder if she’d imagined it, or if it had been an accident. But if it wasn’t an accident, did that mean Ru hadn’t moved on after all?
A shakshuka accompanied Friday’s Morning Prayers, served with homemade flatbreads. Ru used autumnal vegetables – squashes, kale and Swiss chard – flavoured with a mixture of cumin and fennel.
Top of Fiona’s agenda, which was really a summary of her worries, was Ru.
Even a whiff of a crime could destroy his career.
She wished she’d told Rose about her past with Ru.
It was too late now; Rose might assume their secret had something to do with the theft.
What if Ivy or Trish let something slip? She must ask them both to keep quiet.
Despite sniffing the food, her churning stomach prevented her from eating. ‘Ru, I think you should go back up to London.’
He scoffed. ‘Run away? That’s like admitting guilt.’
She needed to get him to listen. This was her fault. If she had explained why she refused his proposal in August, then he wouldn’t be here now. ‘Ru, if someone connects us, realizes the reason you are here is not really because of your love of fish ...’
‘You mean, that the real reason is because I’ve planned an audacious wine heist?’ he cracked. ‘Come on, eat up. Those eggs were laid this morning.’
She frowned; he was being flippant. ‘Ru, this isn’t a game. If you’re arrested, it could ruin your career. Social media can break you as quickly as it makes you.’
‘ Eat! ’
She dipped her flatbread into an egg, using it to mop up the golden yolk before popping it in her mouth.
She tried not to think about breakfasts in bed with Ru, where he would tell her to close her eyes, then feed her snippets of food, each mouthful a new sensation, until finally, instead of food, his mouth closed over her own.
Just thinking about it was enough to make her want to plant her lips on his.
She looked up at him, then tore her eyes away from his face and picked up her list of people who knew the location of the cellar key.
How could she convince him to go? He was too much of a team player to leave George in the lurch.
She had a sudden idea. ‘Please go back to London. Why not say you’ve got a crisis with the new kitchen and send Ben down to replace you here, while they find another junior?’
His face clouded; his eyes pinched together – at least he was considering her suggestion. Then he stared at her defiantly as he spoke. ‘I can’t leave Devon, not yet. There’s someone I’m quite attached to here. I want to be where she is.’
Fiona swallowed. He really had moved on remarkably fast. If only she could. She hoped she wouldn’t have to make that journey with Ru and Kim parading their new love in front of her. She bit her lip, trying to think of something to say. ‘Where did you get these eggs?’
‘From a local farmer, she keeps a flock of rescued battery hens.’
‘Delicious.’
‘I know how much you like fresh eggs,’ he said
For a few minutes, they ate silently, listening to the waves crashing against the cliffs.
Fiona broke the reverie by insisting they ran through her list of who knew where that key was kept.
First to be eliminated was Ivy, followed by Trish, because neither of them could think of a motive for either of them.
‘Has George said anything directly to you about the missing wine?’ asked Fiona.
‘Not a word.’
‘Josh?’
‘Nada.’ He shot her a wounded look, then spoke sarcastically, ‘But I’m not exactly close to him. Has he spoken to you?’
She shook her head. She had barely spoken to Josh about anything lately. With her exam date approaching, she’d cancelled their wine lessons to focus on her studies. Not that she was sharing that secret with anyone.
‘What about Kim?’ she asked, trying to keep her tone casual. ‘Has she said anything to you?’
‘No.’
‘I don’t think Rose’s plan of getting the thief to confess is going to get her anywhere.’ She felt her throat constrict – everyone believed either she or Ru were to blame. ‘The police will be called in soon.’
‘Stop worrying. I think this drama might blow over. When I was prepping a bone broth for an overnight simmer, I heard George and Rose talking. I think they assumed I’d left.
He was one angry chef. Had a real go at her for accusing his staff.
He wants to forget it, says it’s their fault because they were too lax with security, and now that’s been tightened he’d rather just get on with the business. ’
That sounded promising. She locked eyes with his. ‘And did Rose agree?’
‘Not yet. She wants to interview everyone first. Says she can’t concentrate, wondering which one of her team did it.’
‘She should have thought of that before she accused us all,’ said Fiona testily.
‘It sounds like it’s not over. She runs that business, not him.
’ Recalling the sensation of Ru’s leg nudging hers at the staff meeting last night, she added a warning: ‘Ru, stay away from me at work ... please. We don’t want anyone suspecting we’re more than colleagues.
They might think we planned this together. ’
‘Which would be ridiculous, because you’ve made it very clear there’s nothing going on between us.’
She peeked up, met those dark eyes and sighed. ‘Right.’
There was a moment of silence, until Ru changed the subject. ‘What do you think of the shakshuka? Is the cumin too pronounced?’ he asked.
‘You know it isn’t.’
‘Good. Now, tell me what you would like for breakfast tomorrow.’
Concerned that either her aunt or Trish might let slip the reason Ru came to Brambleton, Fiona arranged to meet them both for coffee.
As she pushed open the door of Prosecco she was not ready to discuss her confused feelings for Ru with someone as perceptive as her aunt.
‘That’s not what I’m saying. Just – please. Will you keep our history to yourselves?’
Trish tapped her fingers thoughtfully against the tabletop as if playing a tune. The melodic sound was soothing. ‘We won’t say a word,’ said Trish. Ivy nodded in agreement, her grip tightening on Fiona’s hand. ‘You know I never break a confidence.’
Fiona looked at her aunt. Although glad her secret was safe with Ivy, that was a peculiar choice of words.