Chapter 2
2
‘Y our mum prepped the crème br?lées and the chocolate fondants yesterday,’ Ben began. ‘We just need to do the sugar toppings and chuck the fondants in the ovens fifteen minutes before they’re ready for dessert. Luckily the birthday cake was made last week, so we don’t need to make that, but I would like to make an ice cream.’
‘What about the other courses?’ Leia replied. ‘Mum said she was going to Castlemead Poultry?’
‘Yeah. The duke wanted individually cooked steak, but with only the three of us, that’s out the window, so we’re going for trays of Moroccan-spiced chicken and veg with preserved lemons. We can plonk them on the table and they can help themselves.’
‘I remember Mum preserving the lemons last year. We can also raid the herb garden.’
He nodded. ‘I know your mum made the br?lées and fondants before she knew tonight would go tits up, but a mint ice cream might suit a Moroccan theme?’
She nodded. ‘I can make a meze plate to start with flatbreads, dips, kofte and some stuffed peppers with rose harissa. Mum always has a few jars of that in the larder. We’ve got plenty for the gluten-free crowd. How many vegetarians? Any vegans?’
‘Three veggies. Your mum thought we could make them a chickpea tagine with chermoula?’
She looked at her watch, then crosschecked it with the clock on the wall. ‘Do you want to make the ice cream first, then prep the trays for the chicken for when Mum gets back with them? I’ll ring her now in case we need her to pick up anything else, then start with the dough for the batbouts. Okay?’
She’s so fucking cool . He grinned. ‘Yes, Chef.’
She pressed her lips together as if trying not to smile. Her eyes had been so sad a few moments ago, but now they were sparkling. He wanted to keep them that way.
He cleared his throat. ‘If I may be so bold, Chef…’
She raised her eyebrows. ‘Ye-es?’
‘I’ve got a good feeling about this.’
She closed her eyes, but the corners of her mouth were twitching up. ‘I hope you know what you’re doing.’
He gave a silent fist pump at the Star Wars quote.
‘Yeah, me too,’ he replied, deliriously happy.
She opened her eyes. ‘Did you just do your happy dance?’
‘No, Chef.’
‘Hmm.’ She turned away and pulled out a drawer.
‘In the interests of full disclosure, I fist pumped.’
She turned back and threw a cap at him. ‘Put this on. You’re still a scruffy-looking nerf herder.’
‘Not stuck-up and half-witted as well?’
She smiled. ‘I’m giving you the benefit of the doubt. You’ve got half an hour to prove you’ve changed.’
He wanted to say so much, but she was only just beginning to thaw. He didn’t want to risk pushing his luck.
‘Yes, Chef.’ He put the cap over his unruly hair and shook his hips.
‘What are you doing?’
‘It’s my happy dance.’
‘Do I need to call an ambulance? Are you having a seizure?’
He threw in a few moves he knew she’d never seen him do before.
She slapped a hand over her mouth as she laughed. ‘You’re worse than Dad after he’s had a few.’
‘Your dad’s my Jedi Master. Taught me everything I know.’ He turned sideways to do the running man move. ‘I am one with the Force and the Force is with me. I am one with the Force and the Force is with me.’
She shook her head, but her face was alight. ‘I’m going to ring Mum. Get on with the ice cream.’
He stopped his dance and saluted. ‘Yes, Chef.’
He watched her leave the room, still shaking her head. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt so good. Sure, he’d been over the moon to land the head chef position at Monimo, and ecstatic when he picked up the Chef Hat awards. But that happiness was more of a relief after all the hard graft. It didn’t feel like this. Right now, he felt lighter than a soufflé.
He pulled out ingredients to start the custard for the ice cream. He could have done a cheat version with beaten egg whites, but he wanted this to be the best. He wasn’t just preparing a dessert for a birthday meal; he was proving himself to the woman who’d had his heart since the age of fourteen.
Whisking the sugar and egg yolks together, he smiled to himself. Back in Sydney he was in charge of a packed commercial kitchen and his word was law. Here, in the quiet kitchen at Foxbrooke Manor, in the depths of rural Somerset, he was taking orders, not giving them and it felt better than winning any award.
Growing up, he always knew Leia Perry was amazing. But he was an awkward, geeky teenage boy and she was his best friend’s twin sister. So he followed Luke’s lead and was an annoying little shit around her. Until the opportunity presented itself to make his feelings real.
He put the mixing bowl to one side and frowned. That had been simultaneously the best and worst decision of his life.
‘Kenobi!’ Jan entered the kitchen, laden with bags.
He rushed forward. ‘Let me help with them.’
‘Thanks, love, I’ll grab the rest. There isn’t much. Leia told me the ideas you both had over the phone. They’re spot-on.’
She glanced at the mixing bowl. ‘You’re not making the ice cream from scratch, are you?’
‘I want it to be perfect.’
She put her hand on his shoulder. ‘Stay on target, Red Leader. We’ve got an industrial-sized ice cream maker in one of the back rooms. Use that.’
‘I did tell him,’ Leia called over from the other side of the room.
‘I wanted it to be perfect,’ he grumbled.
‘It’ll be perfect enough, love,’ Jan said. ‘You can show off to us another time.’
Would there be another time? He glanced over at Leia and she quickly looked away. She was so beautiful. His fingers itched to undo her bun, free her thick black hair and run his fingers through it.
‘Kenobi!’ Jan clicked her fingers in his face. ‘Stay on target.’
Over the next couple of hours Ben buckled down. Working in a kitchen was always a dance. With small spaces and lots going on, you had to anticipate someone else’s actions or serious accidents could occur. Some people were thick, selfish, lazy or all three. Once he’d made head chef, he was able to weed those people out. Creating a proper team was what had really won the awards.
Here, working alongside Jan and Leia, he had the same feeling of synchronicity. As he lifted something out of the oven, Leia would lean over and shut the door. As Jan looked up for another utensil, he would hand it to her. They worked seamlessly as if performing a culinary ballet.
But even though he focussed on the job at hand, his awareness was always with Leia. He’d always looked up to her, but he was awed by the woman she’d become. Should he have come back sooner? Was he too late?
‘Hey, Kenobi.’
He glanced up. Leia was sauntering towards him, a blowtorch in her hand.
‘Let me guess.’ He grinned. ‘Ancient weapons are no match for a good blaster at your side?’
‘Yep. Want to help me nuke some sugar?’
‘Are we doing okay for time?’
She nodded.
‘We’re actually ahead of schedule,’ Jan called over. ‘Pretty much everything is in hand. Steve and Luke are coming over after work to help with the clear up afterwards. You two crack on with the br?lées. I’m going to check on the dining room with Estelle.’
She left and Leia pulled out trays from the fridge containing the ramekins of egg custard that had been chilling since the previous day.
‘Can you line them up on one of the work surfaces?’ she asked. ‘I’m going to get the spray bottle and sugar.’
When she returned to the kitchen, she held the sugar she’d selected behind her back.
‘Okay, award-winning head chef,’ she began.
‘ Multi -award-winning.’
‘Okay, multi-award-winning, stuck-up, head nerf herder, how exactly would you go about this?’
He grinned. ‘Sprinkle into each ramekin one and a half teaspoons of demerara because it’s got a richer taste, give them a shake and a bang to settle the sugar, lightly spray the top with water, then use the blowtorch.’
‘Humph.’
‘Did I pass the test?’
She took a packet of demerara sugar from behind her back and put it on the counter. ‘Maybe.’
‘Can I be the one to use the blowtorch?’
She clutched it to her chest. ‘No way, flyboy. That’s my job.’
His heart rate rose. How far could he push his luck?
‘Fair enough.’ He shrugged as if he didn’t care. ‘So, just to make sure we’re on the same page…’
‘Yes?’
‘I’ll give them a shake and a bang, get them wet, and then you’ll blow them?’
He kept his face poker straight as he watched the heat rise in hers.
‘Is that the right order?’ he asked. ‘Or can I get them wet before I give them a shake and a bang?’
She opened her mouth but no words came out.
‘Whaddya think, Princess?’
She raised the blowtorch and switched it on.
He took a step back.
‘I think, Ben Walker,’ she said, advancing on him, ‘that you haven’t changed one bit. You're still an utter scoundrel and only fit for Bantha fodder!’
Even though the blowtorch was perilously close to his chest, he didn’t think he could feel any better.
‘So, you think a princess and a guy like me…?’ he asked, raising an eyebrow.
‘I’d rather kiss a Wookiee!’ she hissed.
The door to the kitchen banged open and Jan entered.
‘Leia, what are you doing?’ she cried. ‘Never point that at anyone!’
She turned it off. ‘I was just showing him how to use it.’
‘He’s a professional chef, love. I think he knows his way around a blowtorch.’
Leia huffed. ‘That’s what they all say... Anyway, how’s the dining room looking?’
Ben measured sugar into the ramekins as he listened to their exchange.
‘Great. Estelle’s done a fantastic job, as ever.’
‘Is the whole family going to be there?’
Jan paused and frowned. ‘Everyone except Henry.’
Ben remembered Henry Foxbrooke. He was the heir to the estate but had distanced himself from his hippie parents and lived in London.
‘Is he ever going to come back?’ Leia asked.
‘He’ll have to this summer,’ Jan replied. ‘It’s his and Estelle’s thirtieth and their grandmother’s eightieth. They’ve got the biggest long weekend of parties planned. He can’t get out of that one.’ Jan looked over to him. ‘Kenobi, are you going to be around this summer?’
He nodded.
‘Fancy another job? Five days?’
‘Love to.’
‘Mum.’ Leia’s voice was low. ‘You don’t know if he’s going to stick around.’
‘I’m sticking around, Princess,’ he called over. ‘Now I’m back, I’m not going anywhere.’