Chapter 25
I ’d often wondered how actors managed to look like they were eating when they weren’t. Thanks to Joyce’s masterclass, I finally had the answer. Worthy of her own Oscar, the woman’s sleight of hand was impressive.
I watched her cut into her pasta and push it around her plate, manipulating it in such a way that her portion appeared to shrink. She put her fork to her mouth numerous times, but on close inspection her food never really touched her lips, let alone made it into her belly.
Following Joyce’s suggestion, both Erin and I did our best to follow her lead, but neither of us had anywhere near as much success.
Unable to take any more, I put my knife and fork down. Filling my cheeks with air, I exhaled pretending I was full. ‘I couldn’t eat another morsel,’ I said.
Erin threw herself back in her seat. ‘Same here.’
I took in Richard’s confident expectation as he looked to each of us. It seemed the awkwardness around the table was palpable to all but him.
He rubbed his hands together. ‘So, what did you think?’
Joyce put her palms up, withdrawing herself from the discussion. ‘You already know what an admirable job I think you’re doing.’
As Richard’s gaze fell on me, I shifted in my seat.
The last thing I wanted to do was hurt him.
I picked up my glass of wine and taking a huge gulp, hoped it would help me swallow the ball of minced beef that had stuck in my gullet.
‘Your cooking ability has certainly come as a surprise.’ I picked up a napkin and wiped my mouth.
Chin held high, Richard looked to Joyce with a satisfied smile. ‘Did you hear that, love?’
I pushed my plate away. ‘I’ve never tasted a bolognaise like it.’
‘It certainly has some interesting flavours,’ Erin said.
Richard beamed. ‘That’ll be the secret ingredients I mentioned.’
‘I’m only sorry I couldn’t finish.’
Richard’s eyes lit up. ‘Then why don’t I do you a doggy bag?’
‘No!’ As Richard’s joy vanished, Erin realised the sharpness of her tone.
She composed herself. ‘I’m sorry, Richard.
It’s just that I’ve got this embarrassing medical condition.
’ She put a hand up to her chest and in typical Erin-style, spoke with such confidence.
‘It’s rare, so you might not have heard of it.
But I suffer from Oompa-loompa-ti-itis.’
While I raised my eyebrows, convinced there was no way Richard would fall for that, Joyce let out a loud snigger. Immediately correcting it with a coughing fit, she picked up her glass of wine and taking a drink, tapped her chest to further disguise her amusement.
‘And while tonight’s menu has been a bit of a treat,’ Erin continued. ‘If I eat too much pasta… Well, you of all people know the dangers of eating the wrong foods.’
Richard opened his mouth to speak but Erin interrupted him.
‘Don’t worry,’ she said. ‘It’s not life threatening. I just turn orange. It’s like jaundice, you see. But without the yellow.’
As we all stared at Erin, dumbfounded, the doorbell rang signalling Gideon’s arrival.