Chapter 24 #2
This was not the Kamran I’d grown to really like; not the gentle and accommodating man my mum had fallen in love with, was about to marry and, heavens, would soon become my own stepfather.
In his place was this suited, exceptionally successful businessman who had taken over the helm of Frozen from his own father, turning it into the multi-million-pound international business it was today.
A businessman, I knew, who wouldn’t suffer fools gladly.
My heart sank a little as I pictured my puddings waiting patiently in the fridge.
Were they too amateurish? Would they pass muster?
Should I bow out now gracefully while I had the chance?
I felt a hand in my own and glanced behind me to see Fabian looking as pale and anxious as I knew myself to be. I gave it a reassuring return squeeze.
‘We can do this,’ he whispered into my hair, close enough that I could take in a minty breath, a subtle hint of citrus aftershave, the instantly recognisable scent of Fabian Mansfield Carrington. Robyn’s man, I reminded myself sternly.
‘Ah, Jess, Fabian,’ Kamran said politely as if he hadn’t just stood at the top of the stairs, giving us a warning look to be at our most professional.
‘Do come in and sit down. We’re very lucky to have Sally Maynard and Richard Abrahams with us this afternoon, experienced consultants to advise on various aspects of the opening process, such as planning, operations and marketing. Over to you, Sally.’
‘Indeed.’ Sally Maynard, a tall, fiery redhead who looked as if she ate potential restaurant owners for breakfast, leaned forward, glanced perfunctorily at her open laptop before launching her narrative at the three of us.
‘My company has specialised knowledge and experience in restaurant openings, helping navigate the complexities of setting up a new business at which, I’m led to believe, the pair of you’ – she offered an on-off smile at Fabian and me – ‘have little or no actual experience?’
‘Well…’ Fabian started, his training and experience as a top London KC barrister obviously not making it easy for him to allow this woman the upper hand.
Sally Maynard held up a beringed and manicured hand, and Fabian held up both his own, momentarily silenced, sitting back in his chair to allow the woman to continue.
‘We can handle the heavy lifting of tasks such as vendor selection, equipment procurement and staff training, allowing restaurant owners such as yourselves to focus on other aspects. Most importantly, in your case, your menus?’
Was this a question? Did the woman want to know what mine and Fabian’s five starters and puddings were going to be?
I cleared my throat, summoning up the courage to speak, but at a look from Kamran as well as the raising once more of the woman’s impatient hand, I retreated into my shell and allowed Ms Maynard to continue speaking.
Which she did, non-stop for almost an hour, pausing only to sip at her glass of water, not allowing any interruption of her full-frontal flow.
‘Our professional advice will help identify potential problems early on and allow you to implement strategies to mitigate them, increasing the chances of a smooth and successful opening,’ she concluded.
‘So, can you give us some idea which restaurants you’ve been behind? In the last couple of years?’ Fabian had thrown off his nerves, it seemed, and was leaning forwards. ‘That always helps, if we are to take you on.’
Take you on? I glanced in Kamran’s direction, but nothing in his demeanour told me what he might be thinking.
‘Of course.’ Sally Maynard raised an eye but launched, ticking off on her fingers as she spoke. ‘Mulberry in Leicester, Alain Dupont in West London, The Yorkshire Eatery in Selby as well as Dining in Leeds.’
‘Impressive.’ Fabian smiled his wonderful Fabian smile, and I saw the woman visibly melt.
‘That’s what we want our punters to be saying from the minute they step in,’ Kamran said eagerly.
‘Well, you’ve got great premises here,’ Ms Maynard said, turning to the huge picture windows from which the beautiful Yorkshire countryside rolled and stretched towards the Pennines.
‘Although probably best not to call your guests punters. Your USP, surely, is this actual building, its history and its fabulous position. You must be able to see over to Lancashire from up here?’
‘Derbyshire and Cheshire as well on a clear day… if you look closely,’ I heard myself waxing lyrical.
‘So, Jess?’ Richard Abrahams spoke for the first time.
‘It’s Jessica, actually,’ I said, reddening slightly as both Fabian and Kamran glanced across at me in some surprise. Oh, sod it, I needed to grow a pair; I was going to start as I meant to go on.
‘Jessica, apologies.’ The man offered up a little smile before scrolling down his laptop. ‘Your speciality is desserts, I believe…?’
‘Puddings,’ I said. ‘I’d like them to be called puddings on our menus.’
‘I’m with you on that, Jessica.’ Fabian hesitated briefly on my change of handle, and I saw humour in his eyes.
‘I’d like you to sample my puddings,’ I said, standing, while wondering for a split second if that didn’t sound slightly suggestive.
‘Well, I’m not sure we’re actually at that stage, Jess,’ Kamran said, frowning. ‘More, today, for Sally and Richard to be giving us advice over staffing, over equipment, over seating and the promotion you’ll be needing. That sort of thing.’
‘Actually, I’m really hungry.’ Richard grinned, looking at his watch. ‘Anything on offer, as we put forward more ideas, would be gratefully received.’ He glanced at Sally Maynard, whose face portrayed little as to what she might really be thinking. ‘That OK with you, Sally?’
‘As long as we can discuss as we eat – we’ve a lot to get through.’
* * *
‘If the rest of what you’ve on offer is as good as these desserts – puddings,’ Richard Abrahams amended with a glance towards me and then at Kamran, ‘you’re going to be onto a winner.
’ He spooned up the last morsel on his plate, which had held a taster portion of each of the five puddings I’d created and been practising for the past week or so.
‘This one is to absolutely die for.’ He scraped at the edge with his spoon, laughing as he licked what remained on it.
‘Where did you learn to cook like this, Jessica? This is utterly sublime.’
‘Well, thank you…’ I managed to get out before being cut off mid-sentence as a mighty crash followed by a shower of glass from the huge picture window behind us stopped me in my tracks.