Chapter 2
‘How we doing with those meringues, Danni?’ Harry Penrose circled the central work area that ran down the length of the kitchen at Prime Catch, Russ Armstrong’s award-winning restaurant that sat on Harbour Road facing the seafront in Halfmoon Quay.
‘Nearly there, chef.’ Danni didn’t look up, her attention entirely focused on piping out the tray of perfectly round white swirls.
Harry watched her in approving silence for a moment. Her hand was steady, her movements quick and uniform. ‘Great job. Next year I’m going to insist we do Eton Mess and then you won’t have to faff around so much.’
Danni laughed. ‘Next year I’m not looking after the desserts station.’
Harry laughed with her. ‘Good call. You’ve been brilliant tonight; you should be proud.’ New Year’s Eve was one of the biggest nights of the year for the restaurant. Their customers had paid a lot of money and expected nothing but the best.
Harry lifted his head, taking in the other four junior chefs with an appreciative look.
They were all rosy-cheeked and sweaty from a hard-worked service but there was no missing the way his words gave each of the exhausted youngsters a lift.
His heart sang with pleasure at how well they’d done under the huge pressure of expectation.
Not so long ago he’d been in their shoes, striving for a kind word of praise.
He knew what it was to ache for even a hint of encouragement so he made sure to give both as often as possible.
After the horrors of school, the kitchen had been a haven for Harry.
A place where the world finally made sense.
Ingredients didn’t blur, didn’t dance around in front of him, turning upside down and back to front.
They were under his control and when he combined them just right, he was a miracle worker.
He wanted to instil that same feeling of wonder and achievement into each and every kid that passed through the kitchen doors.
‘You’ve all been bloody brilliant; we couldn’t have pulled it off tonight without you. ’
‘Couldn’t have said it better myself!’ Russ boomed from the swing door leading from the kitchen to the restaurant seating area.
‘Nearly there, boys and girls. Let’s give it one last push and get those desserts out on the tables and then we can have our own little celebration.
’ Russ opened one of the large fridges and pulled out a box of beers. He held them up and a cheer broke out.
Russ set the beers down and moved to speak a few words to Danni which had her glowing with delight.
He came to stand beside Harry. ‘You’ve done well tonight.’
‘Team effort,’ Harry said, not taking his eyes off the crew as they added the final touches to their dishes.
‘They’re more your team than mine,’ Russ said, quietly. ‘Just don’t nick them all when you abandon me, eh?’
Harry shot a sharp glance at his boss, who was watching him with a rueful smile. ‘I’m not going anywhere.’
‘Not today, perhaps, but you can’t hide your talent away playing second fiddle to me for much longer. When you open your own place, I’ll be the first booking on your list.’
‘You’re getting soft in your old age,’ Harry said, with a grin.
‘And whose fault is that?’
Russ hadn’t always been so gentle, having come up himself in kitchens where screaming abuse had been the norm and he’d grown used to ducking flying pots and pans.
The chefs he’d trained under hadn’t reserved their contempt for their staff; some had even made successful careers off behaving like arseholes to everyone, including paying customers.
The worse they were, the more they’d been able to charge and the longer their waiting lists for a table.
Russ had never chucked a pot, but he’d been a shouter and the younger, angrier version of Harry had given as good as he’d got.
But Harry had worked through the worst of that anger with the help of the youth counsellor Russ had insisted he have as a condition of his employment, and after a particularly fraught night in the kitchen he’d plucked up the courage to speak to Russ.
They’d been sharing a cold beer in the back yard when Harry had asked him if they could turn the temperature down a bit.
Russ had been taken aback at the question, but after a long, silent contemplation over the rest of his beer he’d apologised and promised to do better.
Things hadn’t changed overnight, but they’d both been quicker to laugh than shout and the whole crew had benefited from the more relaxed atmosphere.
Russ nudged Harry’s shoulder. ‘Don’t worry about this lot, I’ll look after them. Go on, you’ve got a party to get to.’
‘Mum and Dad won’t care what time I show up.
’ Probably wouldn’t care if I didn’t show up.
Harry shoved away the unwelcome thought that belonged more to that angry kid he’d once been and not the calmer adult he was trying to become.
He understood the choices his parents had made but it didn’t mean he could forget the hurt he’d experienced in the process.
Russ raised his eyebrows, almost as if he could hear Harry’s internal monologue.
Sometimes it was a pain in the arse working for someone who’d taken you firmly under their wing when it felt like everyone else had turned their back.
With a wry laugh, Harry held up his hands in surrender before reaching behind his back to untie the straps of his apron.
‘Okay, okay, I’m going, I can tell when I’m not wanted! ’
‘First time for everything!’ a voice called out and everyone, including Russ, burst out laughing.
‘Shots fired!’ Harry exclaimed, clutching his chest as he stared at Rehan, eyes rounded in mock hurt.
The normally shy junior currently responsible for the fish station looked almost as shocked as Harry. They rotated the juniors every couple of months to make sure they all gained a full experience of all the different roles in a professional kitchen.
‘I was going to do the clear-down in the morning and let everyone off early tonight,’ Harry continued, ‘but I might be too wounded.’
‘Oh, Rehan, now look what you’ve done!’ Sammy, the sparky little dynamo who was currently in a floating role, where she helped her colleagues at whatever station was busiest, tossed a balled-up tea towel across the kitchen.
Rehan dodged the missile then bent to scoop it up from the floor. ‘It was only a joke,’ he protested. ‘Sorry, Harry.’
Harry let the lad squirm for a few more seconds as he headed towards the back door and tossed his apron in the hamper there, followed by the black bandanna he wore to keep his hair out of the way.
Placing his hands on his hips, he shook his head.
‘Rehan, Rehan, Rehan, how am I ever going to teach you to be a proper banter merchant when you back down so easily?’ A cheer and hoots of laughter rang around the kitchen as a broad grin broke out on Harry’s face.
Rehan groaned and covered his own face with his hands. ‘I can’t believe you got me again.’ He was laughing, if a touch embarrassed, as he dropped his hands.
‘Does that mean you are going to do clear-down for us in the morning?’ Danni asked, pretty eyes wide in eager hope.
‘Of course it does. I wouldn’t play you guys like that.’
A cheer went up from the group.
Russ clapped his hands together. ‘Right, you lot, one final push to get these desserts out and we can call it a night.’ As the rest of the team turned obediently back to their stations, Russ caught Harry’s eye. ‘What are you still doing here?’
With a laugh and a wave, Harry let himself out of the back door.
Part of him was reluctant to go – it didn’t seem right to leave early on such a busy night – but his parents were expecting him.
He’d already missed so many family occasions due to his unsociable hours and his mum had made a special point of asking him to go, regardless of how late he finished.
It would be a nice surprise for her to have him show up while the party was still in full swing.