0 comments/ 31663 views/ 18 favorites The Chef's Choice By: Starlight We came to the brow of a hill and I braked to a standstill. I had not expected such a panoramic view. The motor bike engine still ticking over, I was momentarily awestruck by the scene before me. The road dropped away to a vast plain that at first seemed to stretch on forever, then, dimly, I saw distant smoky blue hills. They might have been the product of my imagination so insubstantial they seemed, but I knew of their solidity from the map I had studied of the area. In the middle distance, I could see a belt of trees snaking across the landscape from horizon to horizon. They followed The Great River, which here crossed the now arid flood plain that had once, aeons ago, been a great lake or inland sea. In the midst of the aridity, and swelling like a green tumor on either side of the river, was the irrigation area with its grapevines and citrus trees. In the midst of this green, I could see the smudge of the town I was to work in, Egret Reach. I turned in the saddle to look at Janet, sitting on her child’s safety seat, buried beneath her crash helmet; she had been wonderfully patient during the ride from the city. “All right, sweetheart?” I asked. “Yes, daddy,” said a muffled little voice. “Won’t be long now, my love. Not far to go.” I thought I saw a wan smile behind the visor of her helmet. “How could she?” I thought, “How could she?” But I musn’t think of that. I kicked the bike into gear and took off down the hill to the plain below. Approaching the town, I was on the look out for “The Egret Reach Motor Inn.” Given the size of the town it did not take me long to find it. The Inn, like many of its kind, tended towards pretentiousness. It combined a varied collection of architectural styles, with Mock English Tudor predominating. The one feature that strove towards anything local was a somewhat unpleasant, poorly executed, monster sized painted cement statue of an Egret, standing on a lawn that fronted the road. I pulled the bike into the inn’s parking area, turned off the engine and dismounted, hitching the bike onto its stand. I began to unbuckle little Janet and take off her helmet. “I feel all stiff, daddy, she said.” I was feeling somewhat that way myself after the long ride, so I lifted Janet off the seat and made my way to the door marked “Reception”, carrying her. At four years of age, she felt as if she weighed almost nothing at all. We went in the reception area and approached the desk. I stood Janet on the floor. No one was in sight, but there was a bell, so I rang it. There was a brief pause then a woman came through an arch behind the reception desk. “Got here all right, then?” “Yes, Mrs.Albright.” “This your daughter?” Pointing at Janet. “Yes. Say hello to Mrs.Albright, Janet.” “Hello Mrs.Albright.” “Hello Janet. You’re a pretty little girl, aren’t you.” Janet hid behind my leg. “Bit shy I’m afraid, Mrs.Albright.” “Let’s drop the Mrs.Albright, shall we? Alice will do. And of course, I know you’re Paul.” Alice Albright had interviewed me in the city for the position of chef at her newly acquired Egret Reach Motor Inn. I had taken the job at considerably less than I could command in many of the top class restaurants in the city, but then, in a way I was on the run. Alice had been perfectly candid with me during the interview. “At the moment the place looks tasteless and the accommodation very average – rated three star. Most of the time its less than half occupied and the previous owner went bankrupt. I’m aiming to build it up into something really worthwhile, perhaps even making it five star eventually.” “Pretty tough proposition,” I had commented. “Yes. “I’m gambling everything I’ve got on the place. The Shire Council is working to build up the town as a tourist and holiday resort. It’s situated on a beautiful bend in the river, with good fishing and plenty of wild life beyond the irrigation area. They are building a marina and have bought one of the old river paddle steamers; the “Jeremy Flynn”, to run day river trips, and are generally sprucing up the town. The shopkeepers are co-operating, painting the exteriors of their shops. Also there’s talk of a winery being established in the area.” “Sounds good.” “Yes. There were two cooks working at the Inn when I took over. I had to sack one because he was lazy and unhygienic, the other, a local woman, is stretched to the limit and likely to end up in the divorce court if her husband doesn’t see more of her. That’s why I’m looking for more help, but I do not just want a cook, I could get one of those locally. I want a fully-fledged chef. The present cook Agnes Dean will take on breakfast and lunches under the chef’s direction as far as the menu is concerned. The chef will take over the evening dinners, and I’m looking for high quality meals.” “You mean first-class restaurant standard?” “Yes. So far, the Inn restaurant hasn’t been open to the locals, but I’m going to change that. They may constantly moan about the prices they get for their fruit, but there’s plenty of money around the town, but when it comes to a decent place to eat out, there’s nothing. I’m going to provide it.” “You’re taking on a lot.” “I know. Now, I can’t afford to pay the sort of money that you people can command these days. Also, I’m going to be asking a great deal, of whomever I employ. I don’t want a fly-by night; I want someone who will stick with me. So why would a young chap like you take on this sort of job?” I might have asked, “Why would a young woman like you be risking everything?” I decided not to. She was a good looking woman of no more than thirty years of age, with a lovely oval face, auburn hair drawn back severely, and with rather forbidding eyes that seemed to look into your soul. Those eyes were on me now as she awaited my reply. “If I were offered the job, and if I accepted it,” I said, “I would do so because I want a change. By the way, I have a little girl, my daughter, who would come with me.” “I see.” I think she was able to read sufficiently into what I had said not to venture closer questioning. “What age is your daughter?” “Four.” She became slightly agitated and her face paled. She paused for a moment, looking as if in her mind she had gone off somewhere else. I thought she was going to terminate the interview pointing out the inappropriateness of my bringing a child, especially one so young, with me. Instead she gave a slight shake of her head, and began to speak again. “Well, as I shouldn’t expect you start preparing meals before mid afternoon, although I would expect you to prepare the menus for all the meals and make out orders for supplies, you could have her with you quite a lot of the time. I’d be prepared to keep an eye on her after that, and I’ll make a special bedroom arrangement for her so I can look in on her during the evening.” I gathered from the way she was speaking that I had the job, although why she would want someone with a small girl in tow, I couldn’t fathom. Even more surprising was her suggestion that she take some responsibility for Janet by “Looking in on her.” My conjecture was correct; I got the job, with the understanding that if after three months we found we suited each other, we would sign a two-year contract. So here I was in Egret Reach, and Alice Albright went on, looking at Janet, “She really is a lovely looking little girl, isn’t she?” “Yes, takes after her mo…” Why couldn’t I shake that woman out of my mind? Sybil had not only deserted me, but our little girl as well. I had arrived home at 1.45 a.m. one night to find the house deserted and a note which simply said, “Janet with your parents. I’m leaving you. Don’t try to find me.” At that moment, everything took on an air of unreality. This couldn’t be happening. I had kissed Sybil and Janet goodbye when I left for work as usual. Nothing had indicated to me that this was going to transpire. I went through the house looking for I didn’t know what, then I opened the wardrobe door. All Sybil’s clothes had gone. I glanced at the answering machine beside the telephone and saw that three calls had been recorded. “She’s ringing to tell me it’s all a silly joke,” I tried to convince myself, but they were all calls from my parents. The first two were addressed to Sybil, asking what time she was coming to pick Janet up. The third was for me.” “Paul, we think there’s something wrong. Sybil brought Janet round and asked if we would look after her for a couple of hours as she had some business to attend to. It is now eleven p.m. and we haven’t heard from her. Please call us when you get home, it doesn’t matter what time.” I rang and my mother answered. I read her the note. She was aghast but said that Janet was now in bed and I could come over to them to sleep if I wished. Still unconvinced of the reality of what was happening, I said I would stay home and call round in the morning. I suppose I still had the vain hope that Sybil would turn up. I did not sleep that night, but sat waiting. I was setting out for my parent’s place next morning when a neighbour, Mrs.Armitage, came up to me.” “She’s gone, hasn’t she?” “How do you know?” “The whole street knows about it. One of us should have told you long ago. What do you think she’s been doing when you’re at work every night?” I said nothing, and she went on: “She’s been having visits from the bloke who runs that sleazy club in town. The one where they have the male strippers. She went to it one evening with a couple of girl friends. Must have got mixed up with him then. He turned up about half nine last night, and the next thing they’re putting her clothes into his car, then they’re off.” If I’d been in my right mind I suppose I would have thought, “Nosy old devil,” but as it was, her information not only made me feel sick, it also brought me one step nearer reality. I started the bike and roared off to the club that Mrs. Armitage had mentioned, “The Big One.” Not only was it closed, it had clearly been vacated. I went to my parents. Apart from all the anti-Sybil criticisms from my parents, they offered to look after Janet until I managed to sort things out. The first thing to sort out was me. I castigated myself for having a job that left a very attractive wife alone at home night after night, but then, she had known about this when we got married. To cut a long story short, after a couple of months of waiting and searching for Sybil, I ended up selling the house and its contents and moved in with my parents where I could be close to Janet. I think my parents would willingly have taken over Janet completely they loved her so much, but I would not have that. I loved and wanted my girl, and however difficult it might be, she would stay with me. I wanted to get away from the place that had caused me so much pain, and so I was now at Egret Reach. Looking at my motor bike attire curiously, Alice asked, “Where did you park your car?” “Came on the motor bike.” “You did what!” she exploded. “You mean you brought that little one all this way on the back of a motor bike?” “Yes.” “You brute. A little thing like that…” “She likes the bike.” “I don’t care if she does like it…all that way…Are you all right darling?” Janet, still clinging to my leg, said, “Yes, Mrs.Albright.” Alice moved round the desk and seemed about to pick Janet up. Janet seems to have that effect on a lot of people, but Alice drew back, perhaps not wanting to risk rejection, and instead asked, “Have you eaten?” “Yes, we stopped for lunch on the way.” “Well, its dinner time now, and the poor child must be starving. You’d better come with me to the restaurant.” Janet was shaking my leg. “Daddy,” she whispered, “I want to go to the toilet.” This was one of my difficulties. When we were out, I could hardly take Janet into the women’s section of the public toilets. I usually had to wait until I saw a respectable looking woman, and ask if she would take Janet. Now I turned to Alice. “She wants to…” “Yes, I heard. I’ll take her. You wait here.” She extended her hand to Janet, who looked up at me. “Its all right, darling, Mrs.Albright will take care of you.” Janet moved to her and took Alice’s hand and they moved off. Not for the first time, I felt myself near tears. “How could she? How could she leave a lovely child like Janet?” On their return, Alice took us first to the restaurant. Having settled Janet comfortably on a couple of cushions at a table, she asked, “Would you like to meet Mrs.Dean, the cook?” “Of course. Daddy won’t be long sweetheart, I’m just going to meet someone.” I had thought that Mrs.Dean might resent my taking over the kitchen, but when we were introduced she said, “Thank Gawd you’ve arrived. I couldn’t have carried on much longer. When will you take over, tomorrow?” I looked at Alice, who seemed to indicate that it was up to me. “Look Agnes, if you could just carry on tomorrow, I want to take a look at the stock and equipment, and probably meet up with local suppliers. Can you manage?” “I suppose so.” I met Agnes’s assistant, Judith, a girl about seventeen, and was told that she would be working with me in the evenings. Agnes would have a girl called Molly to help her at breakfast and lunch. Relieved that I would not have to overcome resentment, we returned to the table. Alice said, “I won’t be able to join you, I have to attend to the front desk. Come out to reception when you’ve finished and I’ll show you your rooms.” When she had gone, Janet commented, “I think Mrs.Albright is a nice lady.” “I’m sure she is, darling.” I noted that although the meal was well cooked and reasonably presented the food itself was of second rate quality. I made a mental note to look into that. After the meal, we did as bidden and presented ourselves at the front desk. Alice said, “I don’t expect any more people in tonight, so I’ll take you to your rooms.” The Inn had three wings set out as three sides of a square. On the open side was the car park, and beyond the car park I could see what looked like another wing. It was towards this that we went. As we approached it Alice said, “This was built as an additional wing some time after the others, but it was more of an optimistic investment than one based on reality. I’ve been using part of it as my living quarters. You and Janet will have the other part.” The part we were to occupy seemed to have been two accommodation units made into one. A door had been added, and the place now consisted of a living room, a reasonable sized bedroom with a double bed, and a smaller room for Janet. It also had the curious feature of two toilets, two bathrooms and two kitchens, indicating that the work had been done in haste, there being no time to remove the superfluous equipment and fittings. I noticed that Janet’s room had two doors, one from my side and the other, so Alice informed us, from her side. The door on her side looked new. “I had that put in when I knew you were bringing Janet. I can keep an eye on her at night. I’ve got a girl starting in reception for evening work next week, and I’ve got my office in there,” she said, pointing to her quarters. I was astounded by the consideration of this woman. I had never had an employer go to so much trouble for an employee before, and I said so. “Paul, I wanted the best. For whatever reason, you’ve accepted this job at far less money than you could have got elsewhere. It’s also going to be a challenging job. Don’t call it kindness, just think that its self-interest on my part. Have you got any other clothes for the little one apart from what she’s wearing?” “I’ve brought a few things in the panniers on the bike. The rest of our clothing and a few bits and pieces are coming by road, probably tomorrow.” “Good. Will you be all right if I leave you now?” “Certainly.” “Goodnight, then. I’m very relieved to have you here.” To Janet, “Goodnight, darling. Sleep well and I’ll see you in the morning.” She seemed to move as if to kiss Janet, but drew back and left us. The place had all the necessary basic furniture, and the bathroom was supplied with soap and towels. I brought the bike from the car park, found a covered area behind the house and parked it. I got Janet to bathe and put her into her nightclothes and then to bed. She was almost asleep on her feet. Her last words before I left her were, “Do you think Mrs.Albright will like me, daddy?” Near tears again I whispered, “Of course she will, you are such a nice little girl. Goodnight.” “I love you, daddy.” “I love you, my sweet.” I showered, got into bed, and for the first time in months dropped straight into a deep sleep. Next morning we made our way to reception where Alice was already stationed. “What do you intend to do today, Paul?” I mentioned that I had noticed the poor quality of the food, and suggested that her suppliers might be shortchanging her. “I can deal with that if you wish.” “I had a suspicion that might be happening, Paul. If you would deal with it…” “Of course. I shall look over the kitchen equipment and what we’ve got in stock, then I can get on with preparing menus, probably to cover the next three or four days.” “Wonderful, and if you are going into the town, use the station wagon. I’ve got the keys here when you want them.” We went into the restaurant for breakfast. After breakfast, I kept Janet with me while I conferred with Agnes and looked over the kitchen equipment. I could see that if Alice’s hopes were fulfilled, the available equipment would not cope with the restaurant if it was more than half full. Agnes also confirmed my views on the quality of the supplies saying, “We buy a lot of our stuff from local retailers, you know, the butcher, green grocer and baker. The buggers take advantage and give us poor quality stuff, but I haven’t known what to do about it.” “Leave it to me, Agnes. I’ve dealt with suppliers like that before.” “Thank Gawd,” she replied with relief. I went to the front desk to get the car key from Alice. “What are you going to do with Janet?” “Take her with me.” “Couldn’t she stay here? She could play in the room back there.” She pointed to a room connected by an arch behind the desk. “I could keep an eye on her.” “Well, her toys haven’t arrived yet, so…” “I’ll keep her amused.” “If your sure…” “Let’s ask Janet. Janet, would you like to stay with me while daddy goes out for a while?” I was sure Janet would say she wanted to come with me, so my ego was deflated when she said, “Yes please.” I left them, and drove into the town. I had taken the names of the suppliers from the delivery dockets and in calling on them found them recalcitrant. They seemed very sure of their position as the only suppliers in the town, so in brief, I put the situation rather like this: “Forty kilometres up stream there is another town with people supplying the same goods as you. Forty-five kilometres down stream, there is a town also with potential suppliers. No doubt, they would be happy to supply what I want. If not, I have many contacts in the city that would be happy to supply. There are trucks coming past this town all day on the highway, including refrigeration trucks. It would be little trouble for them to bring what I need. So make up your mind, do I get what I want, or do I look elsewhere?” With surprising rapidity, given their previous cocksure resistance, they decided they could give me what I wanted. That settled I returned to the Inn. Entering the reception area, I heard the murmur of voices, one of them being Janet’s. I could see through the arch that Alice and Janet were sitting on the floor cutting out figures from pieces of paper. The Chef's Choice I stood by the desk unobserved looking at the picture they made. “If only Sybil…” I mentally stamped on the thought. I heard Janet speak. “My grandma says that my mummy has gone on a long holiday but she’ll come back one day.” This was a fiction of my mother’s I had never felt comfortable with. Alice did not respond and Janet went on, “I don’t think mummy will come back.” Alice did respond this time. “Why don’t you think she’ll come back?” “She doesn’t like me. She said I spoil her…” She hesitated for a moment, struggling with a word that finally came out as, “pleasure”. “That’s why she went away.” This was the first time I had heard this, and I felt a lump rise in my throat and tears press against the back of my eyes. Alice, dabbing her eyes with a handkerchief, laid a hand on Janet’s hair, but said nothing. The agony lay not so much in the words said as the way they were said. It was a mixture of matter of fact childish innocence but said in a sad voice. Janet had accepted that the reason Sybil had left us was she. She was to blame. I am not a violent man by nature, no matter what they say about temperamental chefs, but if in that moment Sybil had been present, I think I could have killed her. Perhaps I should have thought of my part in her leaving, or tried to think what she might have suffered. But the betrayal of innocence? I moved away from the desk and went outside, trying the control my emotions, then made a noisy entrance. Nothing was said, but Alice still had a tearful look. I had not assessed her as a woman who would easily cry. Despite her generosity to Janet and I by way of accommodation, and other marks of kindness, I took her to be a tough, determined businesswoman. I thought she would need to be if she was going to make a go of the Inn. Early in the afternoon, the truck arrived with our luggage. Some time was spent putting this away, and Janet arranged her toys according to her preference, and of course, her teddy bear occupied the place of honour on her bed. For the rest of the day, I worked on the preparation of menus, taking into account that we could not afford to waste the existing stock. I also made out orders for supplies, determined to keep an eye on the quality when they arrived. That evening in the restaurant I observed how big was the job Alice had taken on. Even given that it was early spring, and therefore outside the main summer tourist season, the showing was very poor. Certainly, the numbers using the restaurant would come nowhere near covering the cost of wages without taking account of any additional costs. After eating, I went into the kitchen briefly to find out if Agnes needed any help. As I suspected, there were so few meals ordered she was having no trouble coping. I had Janet with me, and when Agnes spotted her she said rather loudly, “Oh, ain’t she a little duck.” Janet hid behind my legs again. Leaving the kitchen, I felt Janet tugging at my coat. “What, sweetheart?” “Daddy, I’m not really a duck, am I?” “No darling, that was just the lady’s way of saying you look nice.” “Oh. I think you look nice. Are you a duck too?” “No, only nice little girls are ducks.” I think the logic of this escaped both of us. We made our way to the reception area to find Alice sitting there. “Have you eaten?” I asked. “No, I’ll have something brought out.” “Could I take over from you for a while?” “Well, we haven’t got any more booked in, but we might get the odd traveler. If you could just keep an eye on things for me. If anyone does come in for God’s sake get me, we can’t afford to lose a customer.” I sat behind the reception desk while Janet went back to her cutting out of paper figures. No one arrived. Alice returned after about half an hour, and I took Janet off to bed. Thus ended my first full day in Egret Reach. During the following weeks and months Judith, my assistant and I worked as if our lives depended on it. We not only had to prepare meals, but with the aid of the one waitress, we had to do the washing up as well. In addition I had to look after Janet, prepare the menus and order in stock. Alice helped whenever she could, but she had her hands full with the administration, and keeping an eye on the women who did the cleaning and linen changing. She also helped keep an eye on Janet. In fact, we all kept an eye on Janet, as she had become something of a pet with the female staff. Every night I fell into bed and slept like a log. At the end of three months, Alice and I had to make our decisions. Did she want me to stay? Did I want to stay? Alice had placed advertisements in the local paper announcing the opening of the restaurant to the local populace. At first, there was suspicion among the food conservative locals, and comments like, “I want me steak eggs and chips, not a lot of fancy foreign stuff.” I became conservative myself and only slowly included more exotic dishes on the menu. The customers came slowly at first, but as our reputation grew the numbers swelled. As the diners grew a little more adventurous, so I expanded the range of choices. Then Alice added a new dimension. She brought in country singers on certain evenings, and from caution the mood changed to, “It’s a bloody good night out, mate.” In addition, the summer season was well underway, and more tourists were using the Inn. When discussing the matter of the two-year contract, Alice said, “You’ve worked a miracle in such a short space of time. We’re not only breaking even; we are beginning to show a little profit. I can’t offer you more money yet, but I can offer you regular time off.” I had hardly had a day off for the three months, but then, neither had Alice, and the rest of the kitchen staff had been superb. I pointed out that the kitchen facilities were now stretched to the limit, and if there were further increases in customers, we would not be able to cope adequately. There would be long waits for orders to be fulfilled, and thus a dissatisfied clientele. Alice asked if we could hang on until the end of the summer season, and when the number of people using the inn declined, we could add to or replace the existing equipment. I pointed out that the installation would take several days if she bought what I had in mind, so what should we do? Close the restaurant? Alice came across with an idea I should have thought of. “Some of the units are fairly close to the restaurant. If I make sure they are not in use for the period of instillation, we could use their kitchens.” I imagined myself rushing from one little kitchen to the other, trying to prepare and cook the dishes. “I don’t think its possible, Alice.” “Yes it is,” she responded. “I can persuade Agnes to help, and I’ll take an extra cook on. I’ve been thinking that now our clientele is increasing, we need another one for the evening dinners.” “That will soak up the profit.” She shrugged her shoulders. “Will you stay?” Naturally, I had been weighing this matter for some weeks. The work had been arduous, but somehow satisfying. In many ways more importantly, Janet had settled in, and seemed very fond of Alice and the rest of the staff, who made much of her. I also knew that as Alice now had a receptionist from mid afternoon to late evening, she retired to her quarters and worked in the office, looking in occasionally to see that Janet was all right, while I worked. “I’ll stay,” I said. “Excellent. Here’s the contract.” I noted that I was to have a day off each week. The inn restaurant continued to be patronized increasingly. We battled to survive with the equipment we had, and even before the new equipment was installed, the additional cook, Maureen, was employed. She was of similar stamp to Agnes, although plumper, but got on with the job with the minimum of fuss. Early in the winter, with few of the units occupied, the new equipment arrived and was installed. I now had my regular day off, and tried my hand at fishing in the river. To my amazement, at my first attempt I caught two sizeable fish. I had got into the habit that on my days off I cooked for Janet and I in one of our small kitchens. I tried cooking the fish I had caught, and found them good. It was then that the thought struck me, “Why aren’t we putting locally caught fish on the menu?” From that thought, I went on to consider the fresh water lobster-like creatures called “Yabbies.” “Why not those as well?” There were a number of local professional river fishermen, so very tentatively I began buying direct from them. The Yabbies were a little more difficult to obtain, because the amount caught was dependent on flooding followed by the dropping of the river. Then I heard of a Yabbie farm down stream that was already supplying city restaurants. From then on, the supply of Yabbies was assured. Both the fish and the Yabbies proved popular with the customers. Things were going well. We now had an extra waitress, Joyce, and a retired local Shire Council worker who became our washer-up. Have you noticed that when things seem to be going wonderfully, something unpleasant seems to be lurking in the wings? I kept in regular weekly touch by telephone with my parents. One day, just over one year after I began working at the Inn, my mother gave me a warning. “Paul, one of the neighbours from where you used to live, Mrs.Armitage, came to see me. Sybil turned up looking for you last week. When she found out the house had been sold and you and Janet had moved, she went up and down the street screaming she would ‘Get you’.” I felt fairly confident that Sybil would not find me and told mother not to worry. “Be careful, darling,” she said. Then one afternoon, just after I had started preparing the evening meals, someone came into the kitchen. At first I did not see who it was, but assumed it was the arrival of Judith my assistant or the other cook. With my back turned to whomever it was I called out, “Good afternoon.” A voice behind me said, “Hello, Paul.” The voice was hoarse and shaky, and not recognising it, I turned. I saw a white faced woman with dark patches under eyes and sores at the corners of her mouth. Her eyes were bloodshot and hair lank and greasy. She looked thin and wasted and was dressed in clothes that looked as if they had been salvaged from a Salvation Army Op Shop throw out pile. It took me several seconds to recognise her. When I did realise who it was, I gave thanks that Janet had now started school, and was not around. “Sybil!” “Yes, Paul. I’ve come back to you.” I was staggered. Apart from my confidence that she would never find me, I could scarcely believe that a once beautiful girl had become a living ruin. I strove to find something to say. “What do you want, Sybil?” “I told you, darling. I’ve come back to you. It was all a silly mistake. It’ll be just like it was before. I’ve realised how much you’d miss me, so I’ve come back to look after you and…where is our little treasure?” I did not answer her question. There was no way Sybil was coming back to me, and certainly, she was not going to get her hands on Janet. “How did you get here, Sybil?” “Hitched a ride with a truck driver. Had to pay the bastard of course…you know…!” She drew close to me. Among other breath and body odours, I could smell that of recent sex. Looking at me slyly she asked, “Could you let me have some money, darling. I do need to get a few things, then we can have a long talk about our future.” I had little doubt about what she wanted the money for and I wondered where she could get the stuff in Egret Reach, but I suppose even here there were suppliers. “No Sybil, I couldn’t give you some money, but I will take you to see a doctor.” From what I think she hoped was a seductive look; she was transformed into a screaming harridan. “You’ve got money, you bastard. You sold the house so you must have money, so give me my share.” She changed yet again, supplicating. “Come on, darling, just a few dollars. You wouldn’t begrudge me a few dollars, say, a hundred!” The sight, sound and smell of her sickened me, but at the same time I felt, not compassion, but that weakest of all our emotions, pity. “No, Sybil, I will not give you money, but I think you badly need help. Let me…” She screamed at me, “You arse hole. You fucking lousy shit. You stick your fucking cock into me and give me a stinking kid, and you won’t part up with a few lousy bloody dollars.” She grabbed a vegetable knife from a knife block and made a dive at me with it. I managed to avoid her first blow, but as she came at me again I tried to grab her wrist and received a savage cut across my hand. I was still trying to avoid Sybil’s attempts to knife me when Alice came into the kitchen. She must have taken the situation in at a glance. She grabbed a plastic water filled rolling pin and promptly clubbed Sybil behind the ear. Sybil dropped like a stone. My hand was bleeding badly and Alice wrapped a clean towel round it and said, “I don’t know what the hell has been going on, but I’d better get the ambulance for both of you. That cut needs stitching. She ran off to telephone for an ambulance, leaving me to shakily contemplate the ruin that was my wife. She was beginning to come round, and was groaning as she tried to sit up. I picked up the knife she had been wielding that was now lying on the floor, and took up the rolling pin from the workbench where Alice had left it. Returning Alice said, “They won’t be long. Who is the woman?” “My wife.” Alice did not seem to know what to say. She stood staring at Sybil, then seeing her trying to rise said, "You'd better stay down there. An ambulance will be here soon.” “Don’t want a fucking ambulance. Just want this bastard to give me some money.” “Think yourself lucky I haven’t called the police. They may still be involved. It will depend on what your husband and the medical people decide to do.” “Get fucked.” Despite her abuse, Sybil stayed sitting on the floor. Alice turned to me. “We’ll talk later when you get back. I’ll persuade Agnes to come in to replace you.” When the ambulance arrived, Sybil refused the offer of being carried on a stretcher and we both walked to the vehicle. Alice drew me back a little and whispered, ”I’ll look after Janet when she gets home from school. I’ll tell her you had an accident and cut your hand. You can tell her what you think she should know when you get back.” Sybil had entered the ambulance passively, but as soon as it set off she became abusive again, and seemed to lose all control of her movements. Her hands roamed constantly over her hair and face, and she was shaking violently. The paramedic tried to restrain her and nearly got his face clawed. Then from violent abuse Sybil changed to her wheedling voice again. “Give me something, you can give me something. I need a fix, please…something.” When the paramedic refused she became violent once more, and between struggling to control Sybil he tried to take a look at my hand and find out who we were. I identified myself, and told him Sybil was my wife. Arrival at the hospital was another drama, with Sybil still spitting venom at anyone within range, and especially me. It was a relief when we were separated. Bureaucracy swung into action demanding my details, then my hand was examined and stitched. When asked how my injury had happened, I lied, saying it was an accident. I don’t think the doctor believed me, but he said nothing. I was left to rest on a bed for a while. When it was decided I could leave I telephoned the Inn, and Alice said she would come and get me in the station wagon. As I sat waiting for her a nurse approached me. “Doctor would like a word with you before you go.” I was taken to a small office and the doctor introduced himself and said, “I believe you are Sybil Carter’s husband?” “Yes.” “Have you any idea what she’s been taking?” “No, it’s more than a year since I last saw her and I don’t know what she’s been doing.” “I see. I’m afraid she’s in a very bad way, Mr.Carter. We haven’t gone very far in our assessment of her but we’ve concluded that she needs far more sophisticated help than we can provide here. We need to send her on to The Royal City Hospital. She is sedated at the moment, but it looks to me as if she’s not going to agree to the arrangement when she wakes up. We don’t like to take away people’s rights to decide, but I think she may be a danger to herself and others if we just let her go. As her next of kin, would you be prepared to sign a document agreeing to her being transferred?” It seemed strange to hear myself called Sybil’s “next of kin.” It was as if the period we had been apart had formed a great gap between us. I knew, yet did not know this woman. We had once been in love and made love. I had vowed, “Until death parts us.” Together we had made a baby and lived what I had thought was a “normal life.” Now all I could see was the ruined woman and the wreckage of what had once been our marriage. The thought crossed my mind, “What if she comes hunting for me again when Janet is around?” That thought helped me decide. I signed the document. If she were taken to the city hospital, it would at least give me some respite to think out what I must do for the future. I left the doctor to find Alice waiting for me. Looking at her, I saw her in a new light. At first, it was the contrast between her and Sybil that struck me. Sybil, the wreckage of a human being, and Alice, the strong, healthy woman, determined to succeed in what she had set herself to do. For all her kindness and concern for Janet and I, Alice had been my employer, a business woman, and in the year long hurly burly of trying to get the Inn on a sound footing, I had not recognised in her another side. Of her personal life, she had told me almost nothing, and I had not sought to know. Where Mr. Albright was had not been revealed, and I had wondered if he even existed. One feature that did reveal another side to her personality had been the growing intimacy between she and Janet. They seemed to love being together. The marks of affection in the shape of kissing, holding hands, Janet sitting on Alice’s lap talking, had become obvious. Janet no longer mentioned her mother and I had to admit that Alice had become something of a substitute mother. She had not, however, become a substitute wife. I had simply not thought of Alice like that. As we drove back to the Inn Alice asked, “Do you want to talk about it, Paul?” I did. Apart from my parents, I had spoken to no one about my personal life. I had tried to bury it, but now it raged in its dark hiding place, clamouring to be brought into the light. I tried to make a start, but Alice interrupted. “Perhaps it would be better to wait until we get back to the Inn?” “Perhaps so,” I said. Arriving at the Inn, we went to her apartment, and I was led into her lounge. This was a room I had only glimpsed before as my dealings with Alice had only been in her office. Alice made coffee, and we sat in armchairs for our talk. I told her the murky story insofar as I knew it. I had no real idea what Sybil had been doing since she left me, except that it was clear it had done her no good. Alice had listened quietly, and when I finished telling the woeful tale, she asked: “What are you going to do, Paul?” “I don’t know, Alice. I suppose I still have some responsibility for her; after all, she is still my wife, and Janet’s mother. She’s on her way to the city hospital now, but they won’t keep there forever. She came hunting me this time for money, she may well try again. I don’t mind so much for myself, its Janet I’m concerned about. However negative her memory is of Sybil, it would be far worse for her to see her mother in her present state. Perhaps I should move on.” The Chef's Choice “You can’t run away from her forever, Paul, and you may not be able always to protect Janet from her. Anyway, for my own selfish reasons I don’t want you to go.” “You’ll be able to get another chef.” “Yes, but he won’t be Paul. In any case, we signed a two-year contract. Perhaps I’ll hold you to it.” “I don’t think you’d do that, Alice.” She smiled; “No, I wouldn’t do that, but I badly want you to stay. Your loyalty and hard work have been excellent, and I don’t want you to leave just at the point where things are starting to look very good for the Inn. You and the rest of the staff have stuck by me through the hard times; I want you to share in the good times that I believe are now ahead. And I tell you, it has been the restaurant that has spearheaded our success.” “But Alice…” “There are no ‘buts’ about it, Paul. I’ve already received advance bookings months ahead of time. The quality of our cuisine is the one thing that is mentioned consistently. People are beginning to think of Egret Reach as a good place to spend a week or more in, instead of the one-night stopovers. Next winter I shall be upgrading the accommodation. I need…I want you to be here with me. Give it a bit of time and see what happens.” Doubtfully I agreed to give it a few weeks. Janet was being looked after in our apartment by my assistant, Judith, so I went through the door that opened into Janet’s bedroom and on into our lounge. It was the first time I had ever used that communicating door. I thanked Judith for taking care of Janet, and said I would come to the kitchen shortly and do what I could. Janet had only been told I had cut my hand, and when she asked how it had happened I continued the fiction of an accident. I could not bring myself to tell her of her mother’s arrival. The following weeks found me in a state of constant anxiety. I felt as if any moment Sybil would come bursting into the apartment or kitchen. I had gone back to sleeping badly, and when I did get to sleep, I had nightmares that involved wild animals, all of which were Sybil, rampaging through the restaurant, destroying everything in sight. It was in the middle of the third week while preparing menus, when the in-house telephone rang in the kitchen. It was Alice calling me from reception. “Paul would you come to reception, there’s a police officer wanting to speak with you.” My stomach turned over. It had to be about Sybil. On arrival, I found an uneasy looking policeman waiting for me. “Mr.Paul Carter?” “Yes.” “Husband of Mrs.Sybil Carter?” “Yes.” I wished he’d just get on with it.” “I’m sorry to have to tell you your wife is dead, sir.” Whatever else I had expected, it had not been this. I struggled to find some response. “How…?” “The official verdict won’t be known until the coroner’s enquiry is held, sir, but I think I can safely say, an overdose of heroin.” “But she was in hospital…” “That’s just it, sir. Somehow she slipped out and got what they call, ‘a fix’. She was found lying under a railway arch, dead.” I wondered how she got the money to get her “fix,” but I would probably never know. “You will be expected to appear in the coroner’s court, sir.” He gave me date place and time. It meant a trip to the city. Coroner’s court and funeral followed. The clergyman conducting the funeral spoke of a “life wasted.” I couldn’t have agreed with him more. From what I heard in the court, and other snippets of information that came my way, I was able to piece together a rough outline of what had happened to Sybil after she left me. Before she had actually left me the man she ran away with had started her on some sort of dope. She progressed to the hard stuff and the guy had dumped her. She worked as a prostitute for a little while to get money for her habit. When she became too physically unattractive to carry on in the “game,” she came in search of me. I returned to Egret Reach and the Inn depressed. Yes, the preacher had been right; “A wasted life.” I took up the rhythm of my work once more. I resolved that I would not tell Janet what happened to her mother until the time came when she asked the question. The female staff had all become her “aunts”, and Bob, the washer-up, “Uncle Bob.” She seemed surrounded with affection and was happy. Her relationship with Alice was a little more complex. Janet spent a lot of her outside school time with Alice, even spending time in her quarters. Janet’s conversations with me were heavily laden with, “Mrs. Albright says” this or that. Clearly, there was much love between them, but Alice was not an “aunt”. She was still “Mrs. Albright.” Whatever gap the departure of Sybil had played in her life, it now seemed filled with the love she was experiencing. For myself the same could not be said. Regarding relationships with women, when Sybil left me my first reaction was “No more women in my life.” A common response I believe by both men and women when they have felt betrayed by someone of the opposite gender. With the tragic death of Sybil, a line seemed to be drawn under my life to that point. Something new must now emerge, something that would fill the void that I began to now experience. The love I had for my daughter and the task of caring for her had seemed sufficient, but now came maintenance time. Psychologists and others have pointed out that if in caring for others we fail to care for ourselves, if we seek to ignore our own needs or even deny them, then eventually we will run out of energy to continue caring. It will become a drudge, a burden and a duty, that we may end up resenting. I cannot say that I started to resent caring for Janet, but together with my workload, I began to find things burdensome. I felt I lacked the energy and drive that had carried me forward so far. That I also understand to be a common experience when people have suffered a marriage break down or similar loss. There is a burst of energy that ends in exhaustion or even collapse. I had reached the point of emotional exhaustion that began to take its physical toll. I felt emptiness in my life, but an emptiness that I could not or did not want to identify. I have said I am not the temperamental type of chef, but now I started to become irritable with the kitchen staff, having to struggle to curb my tongue over minor errors. I even began to snap at my beloved Janet, and started to mentally curse Alice and what I thought of as her driving ambition for the Inn. It was Janet who quite unconsciously – unconsciously because she was asleep – who began the change for me. Every night when I had finished work I made a point of looking in on Janet as she slept, to see that all was well. One night I looked into her room as usual, and to my surprise saw the door open on Alice’s side, and Alice standing looking at Janet. We had never coincided in this way before in our checking on Janet. I whispered to Alice, “Just looking in before I go to bed.” Then I felt a catch in my throat and my stomach muscles contracted. Alice was wearing only a nightdress, and the light was on in the room behind her. The light shone through the thin fabric of the nightdress, and I could see the outline of her body. She was partially in profile to me, and I could see large, firm breasts, a slight swelling of her belly and firm thighs. For once her hair was loose and fell in a cascade over her shoulders. Not until that moment had I ever consciously seen Alice as the object of my sexual desire, but now, in an instant, I lusted for her. I am sure that Alice had no idea that she was all but naked before me, and she whispered, “She’s fast asleep. Good night, Paul.” She left the room and shut the door. I stood rigid as a statue for what must have been a minute, although it seemed like hours. I wanted that woman, but I had renounced women! Any sexual relief I had needed had been dealt with by masturbating. In any case, Alice was my boss. Even if she was in the least bit interested in me sexually, I knew the dangers of sexual entanglements between the employer and employee. It usually ended in recriminations and tears. But from that moment, I came to see Alice in a different light (no pun intended). My feelings for Alice now added to my already touchy behaviour. It also began a period of serious introspection. This wretched process finally drew me to the conclusion that it was not sex only that I wanted. I wanted to love and be loved. True, there was mutual love between Janet and I, but I wanted adult love, the love between a man and a woman, a love that would include my daughter. It was then that Janet came into the equation again. I realised that one side of the formula was already present. It was plain to see that Alice and Janet loved each other. The other side, me, it seemed, was not present in the equation. One morning I was sitting at the desk in the small office beside the kitchen that I now had. I was struggling to work out menus and supplies for the coming days. Alice walked in and sat down. “What is it, Paul?” “I beg your pardon?” “What’s eating you?” “Nothing.” “Come on, you’ve been like a bear with a sore head for some time, and your not getting any better.” I tried to sidetrack her by talking about the tragedy of Sybil’s death, but she was not deceived. “Its not just that, Paul. Let’s be honest with each other. You were worried sick that Sybil would come looking for you again, and might have arrived when Janet was around. You didn’t want her back however much you might have felt responsible and sorry for her. Cruel though it might sound, by overdosing she did you and Janet a favour. You know that and so do I, so, what is it?” She had me cornered. Even if I wanted to lie, I could think of nothing that would sound convincing. I remained silent. “Paul, you once trusted me enough to tell me the story of your marriage problems. Why you won’t trust me now I don’t know, but I want to show how much I trust you. I would like to tell you the story of my marriage. Will you listen?” Relieved to get the pressure off myself I said, “Of course.” “I’ve never sat with anyone and told my story before. I won’t bore you with endless details, but just get out what I want to get out.” “I was married to a barrister. We had a child, a little girl. When she was four I was out shopping one day. I started to look in the display window of a women’s fashion store. I wasn’t concentrating, didn’t even notice that Peggy had let go of my hand. The first I knew was a squeal of car brakes. Peggy had run into the road. She was killed.” Now I began to see the significance of Janet in her life. She went on, “It was the most terrible tragedy of my life – I suppose in anyone’s life. My husband was beside himself. When the facts came out, it was I who was responsible for Peggy’s death. The recriminations went on and on day after day. I carried not only my guilt, but the burden of his growing hatred for me as well.” It ended, of course, with his leaving me. I was very sick for a long time, and was admitted to a psychiatric nursing home. When I came out, I was determined to do something that I felt was worth while, something challenging. I wanted to pick up something that was broken and mend it.” She made a gesture that took in the Inn. “This place. I had a tidy sum left me by my parents, the rest I borrowed.” “It wasn’t enough, Paul. Your work here has been exemplary, but when I interviewed you, it was a little four-year-old girl who got you the job. It wasn’t hard to work out something of your situation, and I thought, ‘I might be able to help a little girl like my Peggy’. You know I love her, don’t you?” “Yes, Alice, I know.” We were now exposed to each other. We were both aware of the tragic dimensions in the other’s life. This freed me for more intimacy. “Is the Inn and Janet enough, Alice?” “No.” “What more, then?” “You know what more, Paul, so stop running away. I’ve had to admit a great aching void in my life. I’ve admitted it to myself, and now I admit it to you. For God’s sake, Paul, I can’t say more.” “I love you, Alice.” “I know that, Paul. Tell me something I don’t know.” “I want to marry you.” “Good. Tell me more.” “I want you body and soul.” She stood and leaned over the desk and planted a soft kiss on my lips. She said, “I can do something about the body almost immediately, the soul we’ll deal with later.” “I have another secret I want to tell you, Paul. It’s been a secret between Janet and I. One day recently she said to me, “I would really like to have a mummy. Would you be my mummy, Mrs. Albright.” “With some difficulty because I was choking trying not to cry, I told her we would have to ask you. Well, it looks as if that matter is settled. By the way, in case you should be in doubt, Paul, I love you very much for all sorts of reasons we can go into in bed – that is, after we’ve calmed down. Shall I make the wedding arrangements with the parson, or will you?” “I’ll telephone him for an appointment now and we can make the arrangements together, Alice.” “Good. In the meantime, Paul, there is no lock on the door on my side of Janet’s room.” “I’ll remember that, Alice. I’ll remember it when I finish work tonight.” “Lovely, darling. Don’t work too hard.” First time I ever heard a boss say that.