Nine
While laying up for lunch, Fiona tackled Rose. ‘Why didn’t you tell me who the new sous chef was?’
Rose grinned. ‘Thrilling, isn’t it!’ said Rose.
‘We feared it was a prank. I mean, why would a celebrity chef want to work in a Devon country pub, and for the wages of a junior chef?’ The phone rang and her boss rushed to answer it.
Fiona laid a table and when the phone rang a second time, she prepared another, followed by a third.
Her boss was clearly unaware of the history between Fiona and Ru.
Should Fiona confess? Rose put down the phone and busied herself at the tables, fiddling with cutlery and glassware, seemingly unable to stop moving, all the time humming.
Fiona decided not to mention anything; she didn’t want to make her employers nervous about staff interaction. She would warn Ru that no one knew about their history. They should behave professionally and treat each other as colleagues.
News that the London celebrity chef Ruben Nkosi was cooking at the Smuggler’s Inn had spread quickly on social media, resulting in the pub being fully booked until October half-term week.
When Rose promised to recruit another helper for front of house, Fiona became tangled in a web of overthinking.
She didn’t trust Ru to have listened to her when she claimed she had no interest in rekindling their relationship.
If she admitted their shared past, would her boss question why Fiona had concealed the information, jeopardizing her job?
Should she have it out with Ru and get him to back out of her life pronto, head off to supervise setting up his new restaurant?
Each thread she explored took her into dangerous territory.
It was best to keep quiet – she needed this job.
One evening, about a week after Ru had shown up at the pub, Fiona arrived as Josh was firing up his vape, but she was so deep in thought that she didn’t immediately notice him.
Josh’s voice made her startle. ‘When can we fix another lesson?’
She watched him take a long pull on his vape, not wanting to dampen his enthusiasm by pointing out the negative effects the habit would have on his palate.
‘Unless you’d like a taste of surfing in exchange first? Go on! I dare ya!’
She blushed.
‘What are you frightened of Fiona? That you might like it? That having fun might test that resolve to waste your life studying?’ He chuckled.
‘I’m too old to take up a new sport.’
‘That’s a crock of shit. Come on, dive in. Grab hold of what life has to offer.’
Fiona felt the breeze on her face and turned to admire the sea, sparkling in the autumn sunshine, the waves curling and rushing inwards before breaking on the beach. It did look inviting.
‘Maybe.’
‘That’s better. Now what about that wine lesson?’
‘Whenever you like! Tomorrow afternoon, thirty minutes before prep, like last time?’
Behind her, the back door creaked open, then a soft, powerful voice spoke, the one that still sent a shiver through her core. ‘Hi, I need a break from gutting fish.’
She glanced over her shoulder and saw Ru step outside, his hands in his pockets, watching her with an unreadable expression.
‘Am I interrupting something?’ he asked, his voice deceptively light as he jogged down the steps towards them. ‘Or are you just talking about professional matters?’
Josh straightened, his hands slipping into his pockets. ‘We were talking about wine.’
Ru’s mouth twitched into a half-smile, though his eyes held a hard gleam. ‘Wine? With Fiona?’ His voice had a faint edge. ‘You might do better to find a professional.’
Fiona’s jaw tightened. ‘I’ve been helping Josh learn a bit about wine. He’s interested.’
‘Is he now?’ Ru’s eyes flicked over to Josh ‘How admirable . Not everyone’s got the palate for it, you know,’ he added, his tone dripping with casual indifference. ‘Especially not those who vape.’
Josh laughed, turning off his vape and pocketing it.
Fiona took a step closer to Josh, her tone firm as she spoke. ‘Josh’s doing fine. It’s just finding the time for lessons.’
‘Oh, I’m sure you’ll find it,’ Ru said, his gaze fixed on her now, his eyes cold. ‘Between your shifts, that is.’ There was something bitter in his voice, emphasizing she and Josh were junior employees doing shiftwork, and it made her heart twist.
She lifted her chin, meeting his stare with a challenge. ‘I will make time.’
Josh shifted awkwardly, as if looking for an escape route from the tension. ‘Uh ... maybe I should just get back inside. I’ve got stuff to finish up in the kitchen.’
Ru stood his ground, his gaze fixed on Fiona. ‘Why don’t you? It seems we’ve all got things to do.’
Fiona smiled at Josh, touching his arm lightly. She noticed a shift in Ru’s expression when she made contact with Josh, a flash of something almost vulnerable. ‘Thanks, Josh. I’ll see you inside, okay?’ she said.
Ru’s jaw tightened, his eyes darkening as they held her.
‘I must get on,’ she said, thrown by the coldness in Ru’s eyes.
When Fiona arrived early the next evening for Josh’s wine tutorial, he was waiting in the staffroom with his notepad and pen. ‘What’s on the curriculum tonight teacher?’ he asked.
‘I thought I’d explain the different geographical regions that grow wine – what type they specialize in and why. Sound interesting?’
‘Very,’ said Josh, his enthusiasm clear.
‘Let’s start with France. Most people think of it as the original home of wine.
It isn’t. Historians think the Ancient Greeks were among the first in Europe to cultivate grapevines and produce wine on any significant scale.
The Greeks influenced the Romans, and the Romans significantly expanded winemaking in France.
’ She sat down opposite him, pulling out her World Atlas of Wine and opening it to a map of France.
‘France is renowned for its diversity in wine production. Bordeaux,’ she said, tapping at the area on the map with a fingernail, ‘makes bold, tannic reds from grapes like Cabernet Sauvignon and Merlot, which grow well in its warm climate and mineral rich soils.’ She shifted her nail, ‘Burgundy ...’ She paused.
‘Burgundy over here, this is where Pinot Noir and Chardonnay shine. It has a cooler climate and limestone rich soil, giving wines finesse and earthiness. Up here, is the Loire Valley where they make crisp whites, frequently using the Sauvignon Blanc grape, whereas Champagne over here has chalky soils, perfect for sparkling wines.’
Fiona flipped through the book until she found the section on Italy, turning it toward Josh with a playful smile.
‘Look here,’ she said, her finger tracing the map.
‘Tuscany is famous for Chianti. The deep ruby colour, aromas of cherry and dried herbs – it’s like tasting the sun-soaked hills in every sip. ’
Josh leaned closer, his warmth brushing against her arm, sending a delightful shiver through her.
‘Like your shirt today – it’s the same ruby colour as Chianti, right?’ He gestured to her blouse with a knowing smirk.
Heat crept up her neck. She hadn’t expected him to notice what she was wearing. ‘I guess,’ she managed, trying to stay professional.
‘What about that glass of wine when we’re both off duty?’ He winked.
Fiona felt her pulse quicken. She’d forgotten what this felt like – the dangerous thrill of attraction, the way simple words could carry such weight.
As if sensing her unease, he left the request dangling and reverted to studious pupil mode.
‘And what about this place?’ he asked, pointing to Piedmont.
‘Ah, Piedmont! That’s where Barolo comes from,’ she explained, enjoying sharing her passion. ‘It’s a complex, age-worthy red – think rich flavours of tar and roses. You need to let it breathe, like letting a story unfold.’
‘Sounds amazing,’ he replied. ‘What about Spain?’
Fiona grinned, spinning the pages to reveal the Iberian Peninsula.
‘Spain has a rich history of winemaking. From Rioja’s vibrant reds to elegant whites, there’s so much diversity.
’ She paused, enjoying his interest. ‘These countries have been crafting wines for centuries, laying the groundwork for what we now know as New World wines.’
‘New World?’ Josh echoed, leaning back in his chair with a cocky grin. ‘Now you’re talking my language.’
She glanced at her watch; the pub doors would open in ten minutes.
‘We’ve got just enough time to explore a few.
’ She turned to the Americas. ‘California – big, ripe Cabernet Sauvignons thrive in its sunny climate. And Oregon is known for delicate Pinot Noirs, with its climate much like the cool, crisp air of Burgundy.’
‘What about South America?’ Josh asked, shifting closer.
Despite the cleaning products clinging to his clothes, she caught a hint of something else – spice, maybe sandalwood.
His cologne? She told herself her interest in his scent was strictly professional, testing her ability to detect scents. She stuck to their topic.
‘Great question! Argentina and Chile are giants in the wine world.’
‘And what about back home?’ He flashed that disarming smile again. ‘Barossa Valley’s giving the French a run for their money these days.’
She chuckled, trying to ignore how his proximity made her pulse quicken.
It must be his laid-back Aussie charm. He probably had this effect on all women.
‘Actually, even here in the UK, we’ve come a long way.
English wine used to be a bit of a joke, but not anymore.
We produce some excellent sparkling wines now. ’
‘As sparkly as you?’ He said and she smiled despite herself. She couldn’t remember the last time someone had flirted so openly with her. Ru had saved his flirtation for the customers.
‘But seriously,’ he continued. ‘Is it hard to compete with the big brands?’
Fiona nodded. ‘It is. Wine has become a commodity, and many consumers prioritize price over quality. It’s tough for artisanal wines that are made with care to break through.’