‘Hmm, yes, a good old staple, but how can we posh that up? What fish were you thinking of using?’
‘Traditional cod or maybe seabass. Either way, a delicate white fish.’
‘And instead of doing chips, you could do those spirally things and deep fry them.’
‘Now that is a good idea,’ Jay replied, once again impressed.
‘Will you be having mushy peas?’
Jay pulled a face. He’d never been a lover of mushy peas. ‘No, samphire, maybe, and I’d serve it with a champagne-and-cockle sauce.’
Betty frowned and Jay asked. ‘Don’t you like champagne?’
‘Can’t say I’m overly fond. But it’s French again. Why don’t you use sparkling English wine? They make that in Kent, don’t they?’
Jay gave her a hug. ‘You know what, Nan? You’re a genius.’
‘There’s wisdom in this old head of mine, and don’t you forget it.’
‘I won’t,’ Jay said. He was keen to get back to the kitchen to crack on with turning their ideas into winning dishes.
‘Now, before you get too carried away.’ Betty stopped him in his tracks. ‘How are you getting on with your mother?’
‘Nan! You know I wasn’t impressed with that little stunt you pulled the other week.’
‘I know you weren’t and your mother said the same. But someone needed to do something to bang your heads together. The question is, did it work?’
‘Well, we’re texting each other more often.’
‘But you haven’t met up yet?’
‘No. I’ve been too busy and I’m not sure my head is in the right space at the moment. I’ve got too many other things going on.’
‘Yes, I can see that. But don’t keep putting it off for the sake of it.’
‘I won’t, Nan, I promise. Maybe when this competition is over we can meet up, and then take it from there.’
‘Good. Make sure you do. And now, you’d better get off. I can see you want to be back in your own kitchen.’
Jay reached out and gave her another hug. ‘You know, Nan, sometimes I think you know me better than I know myself.’
‘You might well be right there, son, you might well be right.’
* * *
Emma was nervous as she walked into the hotel, worried that Heather would have recovered from her migraine and be back at work. She was still furious with her line manager for giving her a bad reputation among the others, and wondered whether she’d be able to keep a lid on it if she had to deal with Heather face to face.
One of the receptionists called out to her as she passed by the desk.
‘Emma, Faye asked you to go to her office when you came in.’
‘Okay, thanks,’ Emma replied. A flurry of nerves somersaulted in her stomach. She hoped this wasn’t going to be bad news. When she reached the office, she tapped lightly on the open door. Faye looked up and smiled.
‘Emma, come in and take a seat.’
Emma sat gingerly on the chair opposite Faye’s desk and waited for her to speak. ‘Heather phoned in sick this morning and informed us that she is likely to be off for at least the next two weeks.’
Immediately Emma felt a surge of relief. She wouldn’t have to see her for a whole fortnight. Despite her jubilance, she kept her face nonchalant.
