Chapter 32 #2
“Sorry,” replied Marielle, “I was away with the fairies then.” She picked up her scone. This interruption of her relationship
with Sabrina was taking her over. She’d have to sort it one way or another.
As if Bev could see into her head, she said then, “How’s your lodger? Sylvie said she seemed very nice.”
“She is,” said Marielle cautiously.
“I must admit I was quite surprised,” said Sylvie. “I actually felt quite assured having met her.”
“She’s working in Teddy’s restaurant, isn’t she?” said Jackie, loading up the second half of her scone. “How’s that going?”
“Good. Teddy says she’s a hard worker.”
“If I’d had a son, I’d have wanted one just like your Teddy,” said Diana, who hadn’t been able to conceive and it had caused
her a lot of heartache over the years. “I can’t understand why he’s still single.”
“Me neither.” Sylvie nodded. “He needs to get a move on and give his mamma some grandchildren. I do hope Waltzing Matilda didn’t put him off.”
“I hope so too, but I try not to quiz him,” said Marielle. “If he wanted to tell me about his love life, he would.”
“Deep as a flipping well, aren’t they, blokes?” said Bev. “You can’t tell from their faces what’s going on behind them.”
Some women were just like that as well, thought Marielle, trying not to let her sadness show.
The Ciaoissimo starters weren’t great. Some of the prawns in Sabrina’s cocktail were still frozen, and she’d sent them back
and had creamed mushrooms instead, which were okay, though she’d had to wait a couple of minutes for them to cool down because
they’d been over-nuked in a microwave. They were molten; she could have cauterized wounds with them. Teddy’s bruschetta was
beyond bland, more or less tomatoes on toast without any effort to sex it up.
The mains were mediocre too. The crust on his pizza could break teeth and he found the ham slimy. George certainly had nothing
to worry about. No one offered Sabrina a hearty grind of black pepper or a snowfall of freshly grated Parmesan for her spag
bol. She abandoned it halfway through after finding the second bit of gristle in the meat. Cheap mince, clearly. When she
picked up the salt pot, she found it coated in dried sauce.
“I’d love to see their kitchen,” said Teddy. “I’m sure it passes muster, but it won’t be to the standard of my restaurant.
I’ve always had top hygiene ratings. But I have to say, you’ve brought an extra shine to everything, Sabrina.”
He meant it literally, but it sounded flirty. He needn’t have worried because she didn’t notice. “There’s something really
satisfying about scrubbing at things and getting them clean,” she replied.
“Maybe you’re... subconsciously trying to scrub at your life to find out what’s hidden?” Teddy suggested.
“Or maybe I just like cleaning, who knows?” She smiled, but she did think that she must have liked it in her other existence too.
Eventually, after a very long wait, the desserts arrived: tiramisu for Sabrina and a cheesecake for Teddy—brought in, he could
tell.
“I bet you’ll be lost without Flick when she’s gone to uni.”
“I will. She’s very keen to go. I think you’ve given her ideas. How’s your tiramisu?”
“Horrendously sweet. And flavored with a nasty rum essence.”
“Can I try?” asked Teddy.
Sabrina pushed the dish over so he could stick his spoon into it.
“Everything tastes cheap, doesn’t it?” was his judgment.
“Because it is cheap. They aren’t focusing on quality. Cheap and cheerful, except they need to seriously work on the cheerful
part. I wonder if they have a mission statement. Do you, Teddy?”
“Yes, to get through every shift without killing someone,” he replied, grimacing at the first mouthful of his cheesecake.
“You don’t mean that.”
“You’re right, I don’t.” Teddy put his spoon down. “I can’t eat any more of this merda .”
“You’re very passionate,” she said, adding quickly for clarity, “about your food.”
“I’m passionate for the things I care about, Sabrina,” he said with feeling. “My work, my people.”
She had a sudden flash thought of what he might be like in bed and shooed it off before it brought a blush to her cheeks.
She imagined he would be a lot more satisfying than her tiramisu. Teddy paid the bill with his card but handed over a generous
cash tip and told their waitress that it was just for her. Sabrina liked that he did that.
“Ooh, cheers,” said the waitress. “We aren’t supposed to keep tips, though. We have to shove them in a jar and they go toward
a Christmas night out.” She pulled a face. “I’ll not even be here then.”
“Are you leaving?” asked Sabrina, seeing a good opportunity for some info.
“I’ve got another job.” The waitress looked at her watch and made a quick calculation. “In twenty-nine hours exactly, I’ll be walking out of that door and never coming back.” Her tone suggested she was really happy about it too.
“You looked rushed,” Sabrina said, in her best sympathetic voice.
“No staff. They can’t keep them. It’s shit here. Shit food, shit hours, shit conditions, shit pay, shit bosses...” She
gasped then. “Oh God, you aren’t mystery diners, are you?”
“No,” said Teddy, smiling at her. “Don’t worry.”
“Shame really. I wouldn’t mind being sacked on the spot.”
“Good luck,” said Teddy. “And do keep the tip for yourself.”
“Interesting,” said Sabrina as they walked out. “High staff turnover rates are very telling and don’t add anything to stability.”
Then she noticed something she hadn’t seen on the way there. Across the road was a vacant building with signage indicating
it was a commercial property available to rent. In faded lettering above the door was the name “Luigi’s.”
A little restaurant bullied out of business by the big boy across the street? It looked very much like that.