Chapter Four
TAYLOR
This kitchen is like a furnace.
It’s been constructed with underfloor heating and an eye to the sub-zero temperatures we’re used to in Snowflake Falls.
However with all the stoves on full blast, and Paul and I rushing up and down preparing the three-course dinner, it’s starting to feel like the surface of the sun.
I’ve just finished stoning hundreds of cherries for the dessert so I head to the outside terrace to cool off for a minute.
The sudden drop in temperature is amazing, like walking from a sauna into an igloo.
It’s been snowing all afternoon and it’s getting heavier, covering the landscaped garden in soft, white drifts.
My head’s a mess; here I am on New Year’s Eve with the hot guy next door but instead of a sweet romantic fantasy, he despises me and I…
I don’t know. He’s been curt with me, staring me down and making no secret that he thinks I’m some kind of party-hearty waster. Who is he to judge? That makes me mad.
At the same time from what I know about him, he hasn’t had the easiest time.
It’s just him and his brother since his Grandma died, and now his brother has gone away to college.
It’s hard for me to imagine since I have such a big, loving family who are entwined in each other’s lives.
They drive me crazy but they’re always there for me, whatever happens.
It’s so cold that a misty balloon of my breath stays in the air for a second like an approaching storm cloud.
The door to the living room terrace opens and the older guy with the slicked-back hair who eyed me up when I was serving champagne comes out.
He’s holding a polished vape. Exhaling a great plume of licorice-scented smoke he walks quickly over to me.
“Oh hello. It’s the little maid - apologies I mean the cook. It’s like a game of Cluedo. The cook, with the rolling pin, on the terrace.” He smirks. “I’m Henry, remember me? How’s the dinner getting on?”
“Fine. I better get back to it.” I don’t want to waste my time talking to this loser.
“I’m glad I caught you. Taylor, was it? Just have a quick suggestion about an opportunity.” He raises his eyebrows.
I give him the benefit of the doubt. “Okay?”
“Good. Opportunities are everything, especially when we are young and getting started. Don’t you think?” He blows out another plume of grey smoke.
“I guess so. I work hard.” I’m not sure what he’s insinuating.
“I organised this dinner to try something new. Usually, we’re in the city when midnight strikes but this year I wanted something more...
rural. The fresh air is invigorating. But I’m used to a certain - how can I put it - standard of service.
New Year wouldn’t really be New Year without it.
” Henry squints at me through the smoke.
“Paul’s catering is at a very high level and we’re working hard to make sure you’re all happy.” I’m keen to end this meandering conversation. I still have to prep the salmon parcels, get the sorbet out of the freezer and peel the rest of the potatoes.
“Good girl. I like to be happy.” He puts his hand into his inside jacket pocket. Out of the corner of my eye, I notice Miles standing at the sliding doors of the living room, watching us.
Henry’s hand re-emerges holding a roll of bills.
“Here’s your tip. Well, it’s a sort of pre-tip for services rendered.
I want to spice things up at dinner. Before the main course, I’ll meet you in my bedroom.
We’ll have about five minutes. It will make me smile all evening knowing you’ve had me in your mouth. ”
I stand there with my mouth open. WTAF?
Henry reaches over to tuck the notes under my bra strap but I raise my hand so they fall to the floor.
“No. Fucking. Way.” I’m tempted to push him off the terrace but I just turn around and leave him standing there coughing out that vile smoke. I don’t even glance at Miles as I trudge back to the kitchen.
Two hours later, we’ve served drinks, canapes and the first course with no hitches.
Miles isn’t looking at me, but Henry is giving me a death stare.
He’s moved on from vapes to cigars, which he’s smoking at the table despite his wife’s protests.
As I go back into the dining room to take the plates, he grabs my hand as I try to take his plate.
“Taylor. Not so fast. Look.” He points down at his plate.
The conversation around the table stops and everyone turns to look at me. Even Miles.
Henry’s eyes bore into me, first taking a detour to my chest. “There’s a hair in my salmon. Disgusting.”
I pick up his plate. There is indeed a hair. It’s dark and slightly greasy-looking.
“Yes sir. It’s one of yours.” At this point, I’ve had enough of him.
“How dare you talk back to me! I’m going to have words with your boss.
” His eye is twitching with an angry tic.
He releases my hand and I go back to the kitchen.
As I’m telling Paul what’s happened, the knife slips while he’s cutting an intricate carrot flower garnish.
He yelps in pain and goes pale, sliding to the floor.
The door opens as I crouch beside Paul and Miles comes in, ridiculously handsome and capable amongst the chaos of the kitchen. He grabs a towel to stem the bleeding and surveys the damage.
Miles looks up at me with a grimace. His eyes are beyond intense, and the most perfect shade of deep blue. “Not good. I’m going to have to run him to the hospital. It’s a deep wound.”
Paul stares at me in concern. He’s such a sweet guy that even though he’s lying there bleeding he’s worrying about me. “Taylor… sweetie can you manage the rest on your own?”
“No problem Paul. Miles will take care of you and I’ll call Noel to let him know. It’s all okay.” I glance at Miles. Outside the snow is still falling.
“Don’t worry. I’ll get him there and then come help out if you need it.” He looks almost sympathetic.
What am I doing? I can’t think about how cute he is now. I have ten people to feed and serve a main course and dessert, and only one of me.
Miles has been gone forty-five minutes and I’ve plated and served the main roast beef course, then collected the plates without too many problems, barring a few dropped knives and forks and almost putting sugar in the gravy.
I’m distracted, worried about Paul and slightly out of my depth, but I just keep going.
Thankfully no one has complained, although Henry is still glowering at me as I serve the cherry fondant dessert.
My phone beeps - it’s Noel, Paul’s husband.
Don’t worry Taylor, Paul will be ok. He’s got a bandaged hand and has had some super strong painkillers. Are you okay to finish tonight? We can come in the morning and do breakfast. The roads are looking pretty bad with the snow.
It beeps again. It’s my brother Alfie.
Tay, we got a problem.
A tree’s come down on the road to the woods, they’re not letting anyone out or in. You’re gonna have to stay at Peppermint Lodge tonight.
No way am I staying in the same house as that sleazebag Henry. I give myself a moment to consider the super cute guy who doesn’t like me. Miles is probably stuck on the road if there’s a tree down and driving back to town.
I know my way through the woods. Hopefully, it will just be an hour’s walk home.
I’ve got the two dishwashers going, I’ve collected all the plates and cleaned the kitchen.
There’s a big pot of cooking oil left on the stove from where we deep-fried the courgette flowers.
I’m trying to find somewhere to put it when Henry strides into the kitchen smoking a cigar.
“I heard the chef had an accident. Looks like you just about coped. Just. You seem a bit flustered. Even though you’re rude, my offer still stands.” He attempts a smile. It’s hideous, like a shark grinning at a fish before it gobbles it up.
I’ve had enough. “Leave me alone. Never, never in a million years. I find you repulsive.”
“Silly bitch.” Henry flicks his lit cigar into the pan of cooking oil on the stove, which instantly catches light, almost exploding into a fierce blaze. The alarm goes off as Henry runs out of the kitchen, shouting: “That stupid girl has set the kitchen on fire!”
A plume of thick black smoke rises from the pot, covering the kitchen in an acrid haze. I run for the fire extinguisher, grab it and quickly put the fire out. Henry and Ben run back into the kitchen.
“I’ve sorted it out.” I walk to the double doors onto the terrace and open them to let some of the smoke out. The alarm is still going off.
Henry looks at me. “I hope you have indemnity. You have ruined this kitchen.”
Ben raises his eyebrows. “It’s not that bad Henry, it’s just the pot.”
“Look, she’s useless. Did you see her dropping all those knives and forks? And I had a hair in my food. This level of service isn’t acceptable.” He stares directly at me. “You can go.”
I’m fed up. “I was going now anyway.” I walk out of the kitchen to change into my jeans and snow boots.
I’m glad I have a thick winter parka - the trek home is going to be hard.
I should text my family and let them know I’m on my way but my cell is out of battery.
It might be a reckless thing to do, but I’m born and bred in Snowflake and I can’t stand one more minute in this house.
Pulling the hood on my coat up, I leave quietly out the back door.