The Cornish Affair (35 page)

Katie
helped clear away the plates while Lynne served a homemade apple crumble with custard and Graham grumbled about his expanding waistline. Ordinarily Tim would have jumped at the chance to tease his father but he sat staring morosely at his wine glass and refused dessert. Katie however, felt obliged to have a small portion and after savouring her first spoonful she looked uneasily at the deep scowl which had settled on Tim’s face. Even with Lynne’s great lunch inside him he didn’t look any happier than when they’d left the apartment.

Lynne’s
green eyes were sparkling as she broke the silence. “So, how was the Savoy?” she asked them excitedly. “Does the rejuvenation live up to the great reports I’ve been reading about?”

Tim
visibly bristled. “I don’t know. I had to stay on at work and missed the party.”

“What!”
Lynne exclaimed. “So you had to go on your own, Katie?”

Katie
shuffled nervously in her chair not too sure what to do. If she sided with Tim reassuring them that it didn’t matter then he’d get tetchy but if she bitched about him then Lynne would be defensive.

She
decided honesty was the best policy. “Yes, but it was fine.”

Graham
was quietly spoken and was often mistaken for being a soft touch by other businessmen until they got to know him. Then they rapidly changed their minds because he could be, and often was ruthless, especially where money was concerned.

Now
he grunted. “Can’t see how that would be fine? In fact, I think it would be jolly lonely.”

“Look,”
Tim stressed. “My chef phoned in sick. I couldn’t leave the restaurant – shit happens!”

“Tim!”
Lynne protested. “There’s no need for that.”

“Sorry,”
he mumbled looking forlornly out of the bay window.

He
looked as though he wanted to be anywhere else in the world but sitting at the table with them all, she thought and made an effort to gloss over the uncomfortable atmosphere. “Coffee anyone?” She asked, picking up her empty dessert bowl.

But
Graham was relentless. He turned to Tim. “Couldn’t you have got through the main service and then gone to join Katie later?”

“Well,
seeing that she’d hung up on me earlier I didn’t think she’d appreciate it,” he snarled.

A
painfully awkward silence descended upon them all and Katie wanted to scream at him.

Graham
slowly shook his head at Tim. “You’ve a lot to learn in life, young man,” he said sternly and left the table.

Feeling
her cheeks flush with embarrassment she stood up and quickly walked out of the room and into the kitchen where she could hear Lynne having a go at Tim.

She
stood at the Belfast sink griping the edge for all she was worth. Tears pricked at the back of her eyes but she willed herself not to break down. The bastard, she seethed, fancy telling his parents that she’d hung up on him. Well, if he’d been looking for sympathy from Lynne and Graham it had certainly backfired on him because it was obvious they were just as annoyed with him as she was. Oh God, where do we go from here, she thought? She choked back the tears and then felt Lynne’s thin steady hand on her shoulder.

“Come
on,” Lynne asked. “What’s going on?”

Katie
took a deep breath and with false bravado tried to smile. “Oh, it's just a tiff,” she muttered, walking away from Lynne who looked hurt at the snub. But Katie knew if Lynne put her arms around her she’d break down altogether because the hurt and embarrassment was unbearable.

“J…
just need to nip to the loo,” she stuttered and then flew up the stairs taking them two at a time.

The
minute she locked the door and sat down on the toilet she felt guilty. She really liked Lynne and they got along so well together. She often thought when, or if she married Tim she’d make a lovely mother-in-law. She knew she’d have to apologise when she went back downstairs because she’d been off-hand and Lynne had only been trying to help.

Wiping
her eyes with a tissue she looked around the huge bathroom which was probably her favourite room in the town house. It had a free standing roll-top bath in one corner and a wet room in the other and the floor was laid with black and white tiles typical of the Georgian period of the house. The chrome furnishings were second to none. She remembered the first time she’d come into this bathroom and had decided it was at least five times the size of her mum’s bathroom. How the other half live, she could hear her saying but then pushed her mum’s image aside - she really would lose control if she thought of her now. Heading back downstairs she decided to go and talk to her mum tomorrow - maybe she could make some sense of all this mess.

Tim
was waiting in the hall. His face was red and he looked thunderous. “Let’s get going,” he snapped.

Lynne
hurried into the hall with their jackets but Graham didn’t join her so Katie poked her head around the lounge door and saw him sitting in his armchair with a face as red and angry as Tim’s. They must have had a fight she decided and called out a goodbye to him while pulling on her jacket and hurrying back towards the front door. Tim was already outside standing by the side of the car.

Lynne
gave her an encouraging smile. “He’s stressed with work,” she said nodding her head slightly towards Tim outside.

Katie
smiled and put her arms around Lynne. She gave her a big warm hug to make up for her previous abruptness. “I know,” she said. “We’ll be fine.”

Taking
a deep breath she walked slowly in the fading light to the car. The crunching noise of her boots on the gravel resounded in the quiet stillness of the late afternoon and they sat in stony silence all the way home. The minute she pulled up outside the apartment he jumped out and went inside without waiting for her.

She
sat for a few minutes trying to decide what to do. She was still angry but at the same time scared because things had built up all day and now they were coming to a head she didn’t know what would happen if they argued to such a pitch that neither of them could back down. It had never happened before and she wasn’t sure how far to push it. Lisa and Sarah had been telling her for months that she was a mug to put up with his arrogance and selfishness but she’d kept hoping that once the pressure of work eased her sweet-natured Tim would resurface.

Climbing
out of the car she shivered and pulled her wool jacket further around her chest against the biting cold wind. But, as Lisa had rightly stated, the trouble with bad behaviour going unchecked is that after a while it begins to seem like the norm and escalates. And boy oh boy, she sighed, it had certainly escalated today. Cringing with the thought of what was to come she went inside.

Briefly
she remembered her earlier intention of talking in a calm and reasonable manner but since the episode at lunch time she knew that wasn’t going to happen – and even though she often shied away from confrontation deep down she knew the girls were right and it had to be sorted out.

He
was sitting in the middle of the leather settee watching football highlights on TV with a bottle of wine and one glass on the coffee table which he now took a long swig from. Bringing herself a glass from the kitchen it fleetingly crossed her mind that because he’d had a lot to drink it might be better left until the morning. But the only outcome from that would be another sleepless night for her and he would crash out drunk and sleep like a baby.

Filling
the glass with wine she stood in front of him. “Well?” she asked quietly.

“Well,
what?” he answered sullenly. “Look it’s my night off - just leave it.”

She
took a large gulp of wine and then a deep breath to steady herself. “We need to talk, Tim. What’s wrong with you? Is it work or is it something I’ve done?”

He
raised an eyebrow. “You had the chance to talk this morning but you didn’t want to.”

She
stared at him and couldn’t understand why he was being so horrible to her. Although he wasn’t a conventionally good looking man he did have a certain something that Lisa once said was devilishly attractive. But now his bright green eyes were piercing into her and she decided he didn’t look very attractive at all; in fact he actually looked quite ugly as he sneered at her.

“How
could you say that in front of your parents?” she demanded angrily. “Have you any idea how embarrassing that was for me?”

Arrogantly,
he sighed heavily. “It was the truth, Kate. You cut me off on your mobile. So, I figured…”

There
it is, she raged, that was the look on his face that up until a few months ago she’d never seen before. It was a supercilious grin he gave people if he thought them inferior. She was furious and glared at him.

“Look,”
he said, “I’ve got loads of shit happening at work and I don’t need this at home. I’ve just had a belly-f from dad so I don’t need it from you as well. I’ve already apologised twice, how many more times do I have to say it?”

She
gulped more wine. “Christ, it’s not just about last night,” she said. “If it was just one night I would understand but it’s time and time again, you keep letting me down. I mean, what’s happening to you? You weren’t like this when we first met.”

“Kate,
I’m a chef, I work long hours,” he said shrugging his shoulders. “You knew that when we got together so I can’t see why you’re having such a problem with it now.”

Her
heart thumped in trepidation but she desperately wanted to get her point across. “Oh Tim, I’m used to your long hours but I just can’t understand why you’re behaving like this?” she said drying her sweating palms anxiously down her skirt. “Sometimes I don’t even know who you are anymore…”

“Join
the club, sweetie,” he drawled.

“You arrogant prick. Who the hell do you think you are?” she yelled. “And don’t you dare speak to me like that! I’m not one of your bloody kitchen assistants.”

He
stood up abruptly and knocked the bottle over which crashed to the wood floor. “I wouldn’t have you in my bloody kitchen!”

That
was it she thought, this wasn’t the man she’d fallen in love with and she couldn’t stand any more. All the months of pent-up frustration raged through her. Slowly and deliberately she hissed, “You. Godforsaken. Bastard…”

Turning,
she stormed into the bedroom and dragged a holdall from the top of the wardrobe. Her body was shaking from head to foot and she knew she had to get out of the apartment and as far away from him as possible because right now, she hated him.

Slamming
the front door shut with tears streaming down her face she walked onto the path and towards her car. Throwing the holdall onto the back seat she felt a moment of panic. Who would she go to? Her mum would be at bingo and Lisa only had a one bedroomed flat. She would go to Sarah she decided, turning the key in the ignition.

Chapter
Three

Tim finished the glass of wine in one long slug and listened to what sounded like Kate opening and closing drawers and the wardrobe door creaking. Christ, she wasn’t packing was she? Was she really going to walk out and leave him? His mind reeled in disbelief as he tried to rationalise in the drunken fog. She was his Kate and she loved him above all others, didn’t she? He heard the front door bang shut and, staggering to the window, he watched her throw the holdall into the back of her car and drive away.

With a shaking hand he spilled some wine from his glass onto the floor and coffee table. Damn, he cursed, and then in between gulps he cried out aloud, ‘She’s actually gone and left me!’ Anxiously, he shook his head in disbelief while the silence of the room seemed to close in around him. Should he go after her in a taxi? But he wasn’t sure who she’d go to? And anyway, he raged, why the hell should he? She was the one who’d walked out and she was the one who obviously didn’t want to be with him anymore. Looking towards the bedroom and the wardrobe door she’d left open he repeated the words again slowly, ‘She. Doesn’t. Want. To. Be. With. Me.’

He
felt the old horror of rejection raise its ugly head and memories from the past started to creep around his insides. Get a grip, he thought shuddering with trepidation and reached for the remote to turn up the volume on the TV. He tried to focus on the football but the images on the screen were blurred with alcohol so he laid his head back on the settee and squeezed his eyes tight shut. Someone had actually left him. It was the first time it had happened since he was eighteen - since the brutal rejection by Sally.

Sally
had been his first serious girlfriend at university and they’d gone out together for two months when suddenly one night when she was very drunk she’d told him it was over.

“But
why?” he begged. He’d been desperate not to lose her.

She’d
pulled the sheet back from their naked bodies, pointed and laughed maliciously at him, “It’s that!” she’d cried aloud. “The way your penis is bent at the end. Well, it’s not much of a turn-on, is it?”

She’d
thrown her head back and cackled mercilessly at him while he’d stared down at his penis still aroused from their love-making session and felt his face burn hot with embarrassment and shame.

“B…But,
you never said anything before…” he’d stammered awkwardly as she’d simply shrugged her shoulders and carried on laughing at him. He’d gathered his clothes quickly from the pokey flat in the halls of residence and fled back to his own room, shaking and crying with humiliation. The next day a visit to the doctor with his best friend, Luke, put his anatomical fears to rest. There was nothing wrong and nothing to inhibit his performance, and he’d left the surgery in a state of relief with the doctors comforting words that all men were different sizes and shapes. Luke had wanted to give Sally a piece of his mind but Tim had stopped him by grunting that he could fight his own battles well enough. Following this episode, his confidence had taken a battering but it was the feeling of humiliation which had lingered for years after Sally’s cruel words. And from then onwards he’d made sure he always finished with girlfriends first, until he’d met Kate of course. His Kate was different to all the rest. He moaned, floating into a drunken stupor and black oblivion.

Monday
morning dawned and when he began to focus on where he was and why he was curled up shivering on the settee his memory of the night before crashed back brutally. His tongue was so dry it was stuck to the back of his throat and the pain in his head was thunderous. ‘Christ Almighty,’ he sighed swinging his legs over the edge of the settee. ‘What have I done?’ But when he tried to sit upright his stomach retched and he lay back down again taking deep breaths. ‘She’s gone and I’ve lost her, and it’s my own damn fault,’ he wailed. What the hell had got into him behaving like that? Bloody-hell, he really had to stop drinking so much.

Trying
to sit up again he finally managed to stagger through to the kitchen and greedily gulped down a glass of water. He found a bottle of aspirin tablets and threw two into his mouth then refilled the glass from the running cold water tap. Staring at the water swirling its way in circles down the plug-hole he shook his head in disbelief. He still couldn’t believe she’d actually gone and he was standing in the kitchen on his own. Grimacing at the foul taste of the aspirin tablets he knew he’d been well out of order, especially at his parents’ house, but his dad always wound him up and she knew that. Couldn’t she have just left him alone and given him a bit of slack for a few hours? And why oh why did she have to keep banging on about that bloody Savoy party?

Switching
the kettle on to make strong coffee he knew if she’d found out the real reason why he hadn’t made it to the party she’d have flipped all the more so was just as pleased he’d kept quiet about the mess he was in. He pushed the plunger in the cafetiére down roughly, remembering the incident at work on Saturday and cringed with embarrassment - how could he have been so stupid to believe in Jim? And why was it all going so horribly wrong? It was his dream for God’s sake and he’d worked his bollocks off to get where he was and she knew that.

Heading
towards the shower he stripped off his dirty jeans and jumper and yanked the shower curtain along the rail. ‘And another thing,’ he bristled, ‘wasn’t she supposed to be the one? The one that was in it for keeps? Hadn’t they said that to each other often enough and now at the first sign of trouble and hitting a rough patch, what does she do but walk out?’ Well that’s her decision, he thought truculently and of course any man would be peeved if they’d had their hand knocked away from her breast. And, what was all that about? She’d never done that before. While he stood holding his flushed cheeks up to the streaming hot water he shivered involuntarily when the memory of Sally’s pretty face flashed into the stainless steel shower head. No way, he thought vehemently, there was no way he was going down that road again with any woman and especially not Kate, who was after all, supposed to be the love of his life.

Wrapping
a towel around his slim waist and hips he began to feel a little better. He decided to give her a few days to think things through - when she got in touch he’d have no objection to talking to her. But as far as he was concerned she should be the one to make the first move.

Heading back into the kitchen and buttering a slice of toast he sighed remembering how much he’d drunk yesterday. He knew if he didn’t get a handle on it he would end up sitting in one of those AA meetings, chanting out, ‘My name is Tim Fletcher and I’m an alcoholic.’

Shuddering
at the thought and crunching into the toast, he left the apartment, deciding to call Luke later and talk to him about it. Luke had moved up to Yorkshire last year with his company and he still missed him. Tim knew Luke’s branch manager’s job was stressful and as he climbed into his car he wondered how he was coping with it all.

Arriving
at the restaurant he swung the car into a space outside the back door and switched off the ignition. There were only a few parking spaces in the street overlooked by the back of old terraced houses and he glanced up at the grey dismal sky while locking the car door. There had to be something else he could do to cope with the stress, he thought striding towards the door; maybe drugs or smoking cigarettes, but he’d tried both in the past and hated them.

The
noise in the restaurants kitchen seemed ear-splitting when he walked in and just with the simple movement of taking his jacket off the pain throbbed mercilessly in the side of his head. His junior commis chef, Simon, and Jessie, a young kitchen assistant were laughing and shouting at each other while preparing vegetables for the lunch time orders.

“Shit,
man, heavy night?” Simon asked. “You look dog-rough.”

He
couldn’t help but smile at him and nodded. Simon was tall, stick thin with a mass of ginger curly hair. He had the skinniest legs Tim had ever seen on a man and a face covered in freckles.

“Yeah,
more of a whole day and night,” Tim answered morosely heading towards his small office adjoined to the kitchen.

“Need
a coffee?” Jessie called, and thanking her over his shoulder he went into the office and booted up the lap top.

There
were so many emails left unanswered from Saturday he didn’t know where to start. Sighing heavily he stared at the photograph on his desk of him and Kate and irrationally scowled at her. ‘You ran out on me just when I needed you most,’ he mumbled. Was that a line from a song he wondered as Jessie appeared in the doorway with a mug of coffee.

“Hey,
do you want some paracetamol to go with this?” she asked beaming at him with her fresh young face. Without a scrap of make-up and her long black hair pulled back from her face into a ponytail she looked about sixteen although she was twenty-two.

He
grinned sheepishly. “I’ve just taken some aspirin but maybe later…”

She
placed the mug on his desk and hurried away obviously not wanting to linger and he tried to remember if he’d been unpleasant when everything had erupted on Saturday. If it was true what Kate and his father were accusing him of then he needed to be extra kind to Simon and Jessie because they were his only permanent employees, and without them on his side he really would be sunk. He’d never dreamt it would be so hard to find good staff in the city and it was a major factor on a long list of things that he wouldn’t have thought possible when starting the job. Not wanting to look into Kate’s eyes on the photograph he put it away in the top drawer of his desk. Thinking of her and Saturdays mess had to be pushed firmly out of his mind if he was to get through today’s work.