Listening to Dad, I didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. “Well she’s in for one hell of a shock Christmas morning then,” I said, starting to feel affronted. Wondering what was wrong with my family, I could only assume Mum was living in the same fantasy land as Vee.
“Let me deal with your Mum,” Dad said. “You just go and enjoy your holiday. It’s the least you deserve. Don’t forget to ring when you get there though.”
“I won’t,” I said, hating lying to the man. Ending the call, I sat pensive, mulling over his suggestion that Mum might be holding on to some misguided belief. I’d made it more than clear they were celebrating without me that year. In fact, I couldn’t have made it any clearer.
“Everything okay?” Fin popped his head into the room.
I scoffed. “I haven’t a clue.”
He stepped into full view and approaching, handed me a mug. “I thought you might want one of these.” He smiled. “Baileys and hot chocolate?”
“Very Christmassy,” I said, trying to lift my spirits.
Fin took the seat next to me. “I’m here if you want to talk, you know.”
“Thank you,” I replied, appreciating his kind offer. But all the appreciation in the world couldn’t alter the fact that my whole family was just plain bonkers.
22
Three Days until Christmas
Determined to start my staycation as I meant to go on, I put all thoughts of Vee, Mum and Dad to the back of my mind. I told myself they were grown adults and that whatever issues they had going on in their crazy little worlds, they could sort them all out without any interference from me. As for my cancelled holiday, I might not have been sunning myself in paradise, but as far as I was concerned, that didn’t mean I couldn’t relax and make the most of my Christmas break.
For the first time since Fin’s arrival I had the whole house to myself. He’d needed to go to Leeds, something to do with work. However, no additional information was forthcoming and I didn’t push. I’d accepted the fact that he wasn’t going to share the more glittering side of his career with me. Fin planned on taking the train, but knowing our local network I didn’t think it worth the risk. Not the most reliable of services, a leaf on the track was enough to cause a delay and with snow forecast, it was odds on Fin would end up stranded.
“I’ll be fine,” he said, dismissive, when I offered him the use of my car.
However, a quick call to the insurance company and I was handing him the keys.
Fresh out of the shower and wearing a brand-new pair of pyjamas, I smiled, content with a bag of popcorn in hand, and entered the lounge. I grabbed the TV remote and plonked myself down on the sofa ready to put my feet up and veg the day away. “Now for a bit of me-time,” I said.
Switching on the telly I scrolled through the channels, my enthusiasm waning as I took in the range of viewing choice. An hour-long news programme, a fly-on-the-wall courtroom reality show, re-runs of old soap operas, the list went on. A World War Two documentary, an in-depth profile of the royal family… There had to be a happy uplifting Christmas movie somewhere. As I carried on channel hopping, it appeared not, and disappointed, I switched off the TV altogether. “Well that’s that,” I said, having found nothing at all of interest.
I sat in the silence, one leg crossed over the other, my foot swinging left to right. Glancing over at the bookcase, I supposed I could read, but I didn’t really feel in the mood.Ten whole days, I told myself.No work, no drama, no fuss.I looked around the room, before my eyes settled on the window and the street beyond.
I found myself wondering what Fin was up to and what time he might be back. I’d obviously got used to having him around as the place was a bit too quiet without him. I pictured Fin enjoying a coffee at some city centre street café, browsing the shops, or visiting a gallery and I felt jealous.
I’d been looking forward to doing nothing, but it wasn’t half boring.
Unless…I thought, a mischievous smile spreading across my face.
I turned the television back on and feeling naughty for doing so, began searching through its catch-up reality TV programming. My heart skipped a beat as I finally found the show I was interested in and staring at its title for a few seconds, I dared myself to press play. Diving into my bag of popcorn, I giggled to myself as Fin appeared on screen.
“I’m Finlay McCormack,” he said, talking direct to the viewing public. “And this isCooking Hell.”
My tummy tickled as I took in the man’s gorgeousness. He looked every inch the professional in his chef whites. And hot, I had to admit, with his pushed back blond hair and Hollywood smile. The camera obviously liked Fin, which I guessed was one of the reasons why the programme had been such a roaring success. I sat back as the opening credits rolled, popping into my mouth one puffed out kernel of popcorn after another.
It appeared Fin wasn’t the only host-come-judge, there were two more. One was an established food critic, Claudia Williams-Taylor, whom I’d never heard of. Althoughonce seen, never forgottensprang to mind thanks to her harsh words and peculiar dress sense. Her clashing outfits were as offensive as her mouth, and with one hurting people’s eyes and the other people’s pride, I was convinced both were responsible for the numerous tears amongst the contestants.
The final arbitrator didn’t seem to have any culinary background at all. However, Jack Splat clearly loved his cuisine because whereas Claudia and Fin merely sampled the contestants’ concoctions, Jack tended to clear everyone’s plates. He didn’t seem to have a bad word for any of the dishes put in front of him he just ate everything in sight. A stand-up comedian by profession, Jack was obviously there to balance out the intense competitive nature of the show with a few lighter moments.
While Fin and Claudia discussed food combinations, competitor progress, and whether the people taking part had what it took to be a professional chef or not, Jack’s role seemed to be clock monitor and all-round good egg. He threw in the odd catch phrase, of course, “Winner, winner, chicken dinner,” being just one of them.
Fin was the best of the three judges, in my opinion, and not because I was biased. Unlike Claudia who simply slated everything and Jack who didn’t have anything other than “Ooh, that’s delish!”to say, Fin offered constructive feedback on how dishes could be changed or tweaked to make them better, which the stressed-out contestants seemed to appreciate.
As I binged through the episodes, I saw a side to Fin I hadn’t seen before. He had an air of authority, commanding respect from everyone around him. He was nothing at all like the casual fun-loving chef I’d got used to in my little kitchen and I had to admit I found this new-to-me persona of his very attractive. Plus the man clearly knew his stuff. Even I found Fin inspiring, despite having more in common with the stand-up comedian when it came to food.
I smiled a dirty smile, wondering whether if I asked Fin for cookery lessons he’d be just as stern with me.
