with a smile.
‘ I always give one hundred per cent,’ says Marc, his eyes fixing on mine and sending shivers down my arms.
‘A m I one of your projects, Mr Blackwell?’ I ask. ‘Something you give one hundred percent to?’
‘ I wouldn’t call you a project.’
‘Oh? What would you call me?’
‘My soul mate. The only woman in the world who could break down my barriers.’
‘I don’t think I’ve broken down all your barriers,’ I say. ‘At least, not yet. But I’m working on it. Especially when it comes to trust.’
‘Trust?’
‘Leo Falkirk.’
‘I trust you ,’ says Marc. ‘It’s him I don’t trust.’
‘I’m hoping that will change. So. Tell me more about how you learnt to cook.’
Marc gives a half smile . ‘I can’t cook. But I learnt everything I could about professional kitchens. The equipment. The quality of the food. How the best chefs prepare seafood and meat.’
‘You learned to prepare lobster just by watching a chef do it?’
‘Not just one chef. Lots of chefs.’
‘Impressive.’ I watch him twist the lobster tail from its body. ‘You’re a fast learner, Mr Blackwell. I could never learn anything just by watching.’
‘Oh I don’t know about that. You pick things up pretty quickly.’
‘Why thank you.’
I watch Marc twisting and manipulating the red lobster in his strong fingers, revealing white meat under the shell.
‘Aren’t the best lobsters still alive when you buy them?’ I say. ‘And uncooked?’
‘I bought these pre-cooked,’ Marc tells me. ‘I didn’t think you’d appreciate me cooking a live animal in front of you.’
‘You’re right. I wouldn’t have liked it.’
I watch in fascination as Marc slices each side of the lobster tail, then peels apart the shell and artfully cuts the flesh to remove the green and black parts.
‘You’re very good at that, ’ I say.
Marc laughs. ‘Wait until you’ve eaten it before you judge.’
As Marc cracks and peels, and I prepare vegetables, there’s a knock at the front door.
Marc lifts h is head. ‘Surprise number two.’
I grin at him, dusting my hands on a tea towel. ‘Who is it?’
‘ Go to the door and see.’
31
My grin broadens as I walk to the front door and pull it open.
‘Oh my god.’ I throw a hand to my mouth and beam at the two guests standing on the doorstep. ‘I can’t believe it. Oh wow!’
Standing rig ht outside our little cottage are Denise and Annabel.
‘Happy Christmas Sophia,’ says Annabel, smiling shyly. ‘I hope you don’t mind us coming.’
‘ Mind ? I thought you couldn’t make it. Marc said ... something about the hospital, you being kept there. I’m so happy to see you. And Denise … Marc told me he’d ask you to come, but he never said you’d be here for certain. I’m so happy. Come in, come in.’
I grab both their arms an d drag them into the living area. ‘This is my dad. And Sammy.’
Dad looks up and smiles warmly to see two new people in the house. He’s the same as me – he likes the house full on Christmas day.
Denise and An nabel say hello and shake hands, and Sammy crawls around so he can get a better look at the new guests.
‘And of course, Marc you know,’ I say, smiling as Marc comes in from the kitchen area and gives them both a kiss on the cheek.
‘Take a seat,’ I tell Denise and Annabel. ‘Make yourselves comfortable.’ I just can’t stop grinning now. ‘It’s so good to have you here.’
Denise is wearing a sparkly black Christmas dres s that has a V at the neckline and really flatters her fuller figure. She smells of exotic perfume and has fixed her make-up so it sparkles too.
Annabel still looks a little thin, and is dressed simply in a blue turtleneck sweater and jeans. But she looks s o much better than she did. Much healthier, and her eyes are happier and more alive.
It feels great to have the house full of people. It hasn’t been like this for a while. Not since my grandparents and my mother
‘ I always give one hundred per cent,’ says Marc, his eyes fixing on mine and sending shivers down my arms.
‘A m I one of your projects, Mr Blackwell?’ I ask. ‘Something you give one hundred percent to?’
‘ I wouldn’t call you a project.’
‘Oh? What would you call me?’
‘My soul mate. The only woman in the world who could break down my barriers.’
‘I don’t think I’ve broken down all your barriers,’ I say. ‘At least, not yet. But I’m working on it. Especially when it comes to trust.’
‘Trust?’
‘Leo Falkirk.’
‘I trust you ,’ says Marc. ‘It’s him I don’t trust.’
‘I’m hoping that will change. So. Tell me more about how you learnt to cook.’
Marc gives a half smile . ‘I can’t cook. But I learnt everything I could about professional kitchens. The equipment. The quality of the food. How the best chefs prepare seafood and meat.’
‘You learned to prepare lobster just by watching a chef do it?’
‘Not just one chef. Lots of chefs.’
‘Impressive.’ I watch him twist the lobster tail from its body. ‘You’re a fast learner, Mr Blackwell. I could never learn anything just by watching.’
‘Oh I don’t know about that. You pick things up pretty quickly.’
‘Why thank you.’
I watch Marc twisting and manipulating the red lobster in his strong fingers, revealing white meat under the shell.
‘Aren’t the best lobsters still alive when you buy them?’ I say. ‘And uncooked?’
‘I bought these pre-cooked,’ Marc tells me. ‘I didn’t think you’d appreciate me cooking a live animal in front of you.’
‘You’re right. I wouldn’t have liked it.’
I watch in fascination as Marc slices each side of the lobster tail, then peels apart the shell and artfully cuts the flesh to remove the green and black parts.
‘You’re very good at that, ’ I say.
Marc laughs. ‘Wait until you’ve eaten it before you judge.’
As Marc cracks and peels, and I prepare vegetables, there’s a knock at the front door.
Marc lifts h is head. ‘Surprise number two.’
I grin at him, dusting my hands on a tea towel. ‘Who is it?’
‘ Go to the door and see.’
31
My grin broadens as I walk to the front door and pull it open.
‘Oh my god.’ I throw a hand to my mouth and beam at the two guests standing on the doorstep. ‘I can’t believe it. Oh wow!’
Standing rig ht outside our little cottage are Denise and Annabel.
‘Happy Christmas Sophia,’ says Annabel, smiling shyly. ‘I hope you don’t mind us coming.’
‘ Mind ? I thought you couldn’t make it. Marc said ... something about the hospital, you being kept there. I’m so happy to see you. And Denise … Marc told me he’d ask you to come, but he never said you’d be here for certain. I’m so happy. Come in, come in.’
I grab both their arms an d drag them into the living area. ‘This is my dad. And Sammy.’
Dad looks up and smiles warmly to see two new people in the house. He’s the same as me – he likes the house full on Christmas day.
Denise and An nabel say hello and shake hands, and Sammy crawls around so he can get a better look at the new guests.
‘And of course, Marc you know,’ I say, smiling as Marc comes in from the kitchen area and gives them both a kiss on the cheek.
‘Take a seat,’ I tell Denise and Annabel. ‘Make yourselves comfortable.’ I just can’t stop grinning now. ‘It’s so good to have you here.’
Denise is wearing a sparkly black Christmas dres s that has a V at the neckline and really flatters her fuller figure. She smells of exotic perfume and has fixed her make-up so it sparkles too.
Annabel still looks a little thin, and is dressed simply in a blue turtleneck sweater and jeans. But she looks s o much better than she did. Much healthier, and her eyes are happier and more alive.
It feels great to have the house full of people. It hasn’t been like this for a while. Not since my grandparents and my mother
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