‘It will mean tightening our belts, though. Are you okay with that?’
‘Yes,’ he replied determinedly. ‘If it means we both get what we want in the end, it will be worth it. And in the meantime, you have to promise to be honest with me, and don’t try to battle on if you’re not feeling up to it.’
‘I will.’ She put her hand on her stomach, protectively.
He grinned at her. ‘Then we’ll work it out together.’
* * *
After Liz left, Jay made himself another cup of coffee and pulled his great-grandmother’s recipe book and a notebook out of his bag. For a moment he smoothed his hand over the leather covering. He’d been itching to look at it properly, but now the time had come he hesitated at turning over the pages. He wanted to savour his first read.
The handwriting at the front was larger and more rounded than in the later pages. Not only that, but it was part recipe book, part diary. Fascinated, Jay took a sip of his coffee and began to read.
Today Mummy showed me how to make a Victoria sponge cake. The trick is to use the freshest eggs possible and beat them really hard into the butter and sugar. It’s the only way to create a really fluffy sponge.
When it was baked, we filled it with Mummy’s homemade strawberry jam and lots of cream.
As Jay read, he realised his great-grandmother, Annie, had started to write the recipe book when she was eleven years old in 1939 — just before the start of World War Two. Things would have been about to change for the innocent girl his great-grandmother had been, baking alongside her own mother, using recipes already handed down the generations. Life was about to get a lot tougher with not just the introduction of food rationing, but also the threat of Hitler’s bombs raining down on them.
Jay read on, learning how in September 1939 there were bumper crops of berries wherever there were hedgerows, and the women and children had all joined together for fruit-picking and jam-making sessions. The results would see them through the months ahead when the taste of something sweet would be a welcome treat. Annie wrote about helping her brothers turn the garden into an allotment to grow vegetables while her father was already doing his basic training before being sent to France. The pages were full of enthusiasm as they turned their small garden into something that would reward them with a largely vegetarian diet when meat became scarce. Jay scribbled down notes about dishes that might be suitable to showcase regionalfood of London and the south-east. When he finished his read-through, he looked up, and was surprised to see that the winter sky was already darkening into night. He yawned and stretched, knowing that he had some promising ideas for what he could cook in the initial heats of the competition. All he had to do now was to add a twist to the dishes so he could turn them into fine dining.
Chapter Eight
Emma was having the day from hell. She was supervising a luncheon where far more guests had turned up than had been confirmed, so they had nearly run out of food. She’d had to cajole the chef to put on extra and then she’d checked the portion control just to make sure everyone had got enough to eat. And despite the fact that the problem hadn’t been the hotel’s fault, the company who’d organised the event had made a complaint to the general manager. To top it all off, one of the servers had just spilled a tray of drinks over two of the guests. After calming them down, Emma had no choice but to offer to pay for their dry-cleaning.
When the event was over, she returned to the office.
‘Well, that was a complete and utter disaster, wasn’t it?’ Heather launched into a tirade as soon as Emma stepped through the door. ‘You keep telling me that you’re ready for more responsibility, but the moment I give it to you, you make a complete and utter cock-up of it. I thought you had experience in this area, or was that you just bigging yourself up?’
Emma attempted to explain, but Heather didn’t let her get a word in. ‘I’ve already had a call from the general manager about the customer’s complaint, so not only have you made a fool of yourself, but you’ve also made a fool of me. This just shows that you are not ready for a managerial role yet. You’re not competent enough.’
Again, Emma tried to explain. ‘But it wasn’t my fault. There were at least twenty extra guests.’
‘Then you should have checked the function sheet beforehand, so you would have been aware that the numbers had changed.’
‘I did check the sheet,’ Emma replied, trying to keep her voice calm. ‘The numbers hadn’t changed. The organisers swore blind they’d let us know, but there was nothing in the notes.’
‘Well, they can’t have done then, can they? And you should be able to deal with all eventualities,’ Heather told her. ‘Part of being a successful manager is being able to think on your feet.’
‘I did,’ Emma said. ‘As soon as I realised we were likely to run out of food, I got the chef to improvise.’
‘And the couple who were drowned in white wine? That’s likely to be a hefty dry-cleaning bill.’
‘Accidents happen,’ Emma said between gritted teeth. ‘There was nothing I could do about that, apart from pacify them after the event.’
‘That’s not good enough. The Rosemont prides itself on excellent customer service and what you provided today was way off that. It will be a long time before I can trust you again.’
Emma nodded, knowing that if she said anything now she’d probably live to regret it. Heather obviously wasn’t in the mood for being reasoned with, so there was no point in trying. As it was the end of her shift, she put on her coat and walked out of the office, not even bothering to say goodbye. She headed through the lobby and out of the hotel, wondering how much longer she could cope with working with Heather. Soon she’d either have to make a complaint against her line manager or move on herself.
‘Jay!’ She stopped in her tracks as she saw him waiting in front of the hotel for her. It was such a surprise as they hadn’t arranged to meet. In fact, they’d barely seen each other in the last few weeks as they’d both been so busy at work. He pulled her into his arms as she stepped out onto the pavement and she relished the feel of his arms around her. She had never been so pleased to see him as she was right now.
Emma eventually pulled herself away from him. ‘What are you doing here?’
‘I thought I’d surprise you,’ he replied with a smile.
‘You’ve certainly done that. And I couldn’t be happier — I’ve had a pig of a day.’
‘Then I’m glad I came to meet you. Now, why don’t we have a few drinks in a little wine bar I know, followed by dinner at Luigi’s?’
