Authors: Darry Fraser
Well, only one thing to do. Get into that kitchen and cook. After all, there was a killer dessert to create.
Operation Dessert Storm.
And she had just the one for the job.
Chapter Eight
Berry was at the ponds checking the pumps, the fuel levels and the nets covering each tank of marron. Now nearing sundown, he and Rommy decided it was time to head back home.
Fucking Greg Thomas. How many times had that screwed up little bastard conned someone into his sick little web.
And Marlie should know better by now.
He jumped back in the ute. Rommy sat up in the passenger seat and they headed back.
Clancy had looked funny, as though stricken when he’d come to tell her what Marlie had reported. What was that about? He’d never believed a word about anything Greg Thomas was up to, didn’t expect anyone else to be bothered by him either.
He’d thought better of going to her when she was protesting the accusation. No point muddying the waters. Better to let everything calm down.
Tomorrow would look better for everyone and things would settle down. The Greg Thomas factor would have lost its heat. There’d be nothing to worry about.
He parked at the house and went inside, Rommy following. He could see a light on in the restaurant but no light on at the bedsit.
Heidi must be going over a few things with Clancy. That was a good sign. Seems those two got along okay. Maybe not a crisis after all; no thanks to his prick of a neighbour.
He opened a beer, and walked out on to the verandah. Rommy nudged his food bowl so Berry lifted the lid on the barrel of dog nuts, grabbed a couple of handfuls and dropped them into the dog’s bowl.
Berry settled on the settee, his booted feet landed on the upturned half wine barrel. He listened as Rommy crunched his dinner down. A man could do with some food too, he thought and idled around the idea of heading towards the restaurant.
Too obvious, peanut.
He’d go down later, after Heidi left. That shouldn’t be too long; she could hardly stand up much after eight in the evening these days and it would mean Clancy had left the kitchen as well. He’d grab one of the staff meals Heidi always had packed and ready, a chicken thing or a beef thing and head back up to the house.
He leaned back in his seat. The beer was heading south really well.
He’d let it do its trick then he’d haul himself into the shower.
Fifteen minutes later, Rommy followed him back inside, sat at the bathroom door while Berry got himself wet and soapy. Rommy didn’t like that room particularly much; he’d also get wet and soapy in there from time to time and it was never much fun. No need to go right inside in case he was told to step in with the boss.
Dressed, except for boots, and back in the kitchen, Berry could see the light still on in the restaurant.
“Heidi must be really getting stuck into the handover, Roms.” He hoped they wouldn’t be too much longer and his stomach growled on cue.
He went to the dining table, flicked on the laptop and opened his emails. He checked a few orders, answered a few queries and entered a couple of restaurant bookings. These few days before Christmas were filling up nicely, and now even after Christmas and into January. At last the stress of previous years might be lifting; the place was well deserving of its good name and the bookings were proof.
And further up the email list, there was Clancy’s email. He hadn’t deleted it. He clearly remembered the thud in his chest when he’d opened his emails the day before and saw she’d contacted him. He almost leapt on the spot to help her out.
Something about her grabbed him, and he could feel it growing by the minute. But if she was working here with him and staying on the property, he would have to step carefully. Things could get messy.
Things could get bloody fantastic.
Better not to rush it. He didn’t need hassles in that direction at all. He wondered what she’d look like working in this kitchen here. Her fair head of hair would be bobbing up and down as she sautéed, stirring with a big wooden spoon, or whisking eggs for an omelette for breakfast.
Other things would be shaking and bobbing along with the rhythm. He thought a bit more about that. Thought about what might have occurred before that omelette breakfast.
Or maybe, better still, she’d watch him work in the kitchen, her chin cupped in her hand as she sat at the table waiting to be served dinner the night before...
Or she would have her elegant hands around a wine bowl and a deep, rich berry-flavoured shiraz would be warming in her palms. Her brown-eyed gaze would be on him the whole time and then when he served dinner—
Dinner. Food.
What were those two doing down there? Once he realised the light was still on he glanced at the clock. Eight pm. Heidi was usually well gone by now on no-trade days.
“Rommy, stop being a chicken. A man’s got to eat.” He pulled on his boots. “Let’s go.”
Chapter Nine
Clancy stood in the coolroom. They’d easily need another couple of hours before they’d be ready to turn out. But she didn’t have to do that tonight.
And they did look gorgeous. Three loaf trays of her special lemon yoghurt panna cotta. Not to be taken lightly.
Three trays ought to be enough for service tomorrow night, and perhaps the following night as well if it wasn’t as popular as she expected it would be.
And they looked about the best she’d ever done.
She checked the berry compote, careful not to disturb it too much. It needed to draw a bit more in it own juices before she could add fresh fruit and slide it spoonfuls over the thick slices of the dessert.
A little garnish of lemon myrtle liqueur (apparently from the distillery down the road according to Heidi) to add zing, a dollop of cream and—
“Whatever’s in there, it must be pretty good.”
Clancy jumped and the coolroom door slammed shut as she spun around.
“You’re looking at it as if you could love it.” Berry stood with his hands thrust in his pockets.
Her hand went to her throat as she took a breath. “Berry. Crept up on me.”
“You were engrossed.”
“It’s my dessert for tomorrow night. Heidi wanted me to come up with something special.”
“What is it?” He opened the coolroom door and peered in. “Wow. Panna cotta?”
“Yes. My own recipe.”
“Can’t wait.” He looked around inside the coolroom. “And what else have you been doing?” There were shelves of Heidi’s handy work, her house-made sauces and savoury marmalades, which he skimmed over.
But a section of shelf caught his eye. He didn’t recognise the work.
Clancy stepped in behind him. “I looked at Heidi’s menus and thought a marron mousse might be something different as a starter, or maybe as a teaser.” She moved past him and lifted a linen cloth. “And I found some chicken livers and the wattle-seed and I thought a pâté might work as well. You know, coming up Christmas.” She looked back at him. “Not that there’s anything missing from Heidi’s menus. She asked me to add a few bits...”
“Where is Heidi?”
“She left hours ago.” Clancy was getting cold in the room so she brushed past him on her way out. He followed and closed the door.
She went back to the prep bench and lifted a cloth there as well. “I’ve got savoury breads rising and as soon as they’re ready I can bake them and freeze—” She looked up. “Is something wrong?” Clancy had hardly noticed the time disappearing. She just wanted to keep cooking until her nerves settled and her thoughts were ordered.
“Not a thing. I just came down looking for a feed for dinner. I thought Heidi must still have been here showing you around.”
Clancy checked over the dough rising obediently under the linen. “You want me to cook something?”
“No, I didn’t mean that. Heidi usually has staff meals frozen. I was going to grab one of those.” He stared at her.
“You want me to—?”
“I’ll get them.” He still had his hands in his pockets as he turned away, then back again. “Have you eaten? I’ll grab two packs and we can sit here if you like.”
“Great.” She’d just about finished clearing everything away so she shook a few stainless bowls free of rinse water and stacked them on shelves above the sink.
Berry had his head in the freezer. “A chicken thingy or a beef thingy?”
“Beef, thanks.”
He came back with two deep square boxes each labelled ‘Beef Thingy’ and headed for the microwave. “Your shout for the red.”
Clancy poured two glasses from the bar and brought them back to the kitchen bench. Found the kitchen cutlery and two simple plates. She dragged two bar stools over and sat waiting for the microwave to ding.
This felt extremely weird, as if something great was happening but all in slow motion, something she couldn’t grasp and hold on to. Not even three days in the Row Hill area, hardly a full day in Berry’s company and the very thing she was wary of was happening.
As soon as the aroma from the microwave hit her, her stomach rumbled. For a moment she couldn’t remember if she’d had lunch then recalled very clearly she’d eaten with Berry. And now dinner as well. Hopefully this meal wouldn’t end the way lunch had.
He lifted the lids and Clancy almost saw the curl of flavour waft across to her. Chilli and spice and something sweet tucked in behind it. He turned the first bowl out and Clancy could see fluffy white rice as well.
He turned out the second bowl, and carried them both to the bench.
“Bon appétit.”
Rommy made a noise in the doorway and Berry dug in his pocket for a biscuit and slid it across the floor to him.
They all dug in. “Heard from home?”
Clancy looked up, startled.
“I reckon you came from somewhere only a few days ago. Haven’t heard you mention a thing, but there must be a story.” The intense green-eyed stare was back.
She forked a little rice through the meat and spices. “Not a good one. I’d been running my family’s restaurant in Magill,
Jones and Jones Restaurant
. Dad decided the new wife could do it better.” She ate a mouthful, nodded her appreciation. Then, “As I didn’t agree, I marched. Though Dad would say I got my marching orders.”
“So, I might not have got a reference after all.”
Clancy sipped the wine. “I must sound as if I’m trouble wherever I go.”
“I don’t take any notice of Greg Thomas. Or Marlie, poor woman. Her perspective is distorted. And I don’t have to know what happened at your place, unless you want to say.”
“Thanks.” Clancy gave a quick smile. “And no, haven’t heard from home. I might next week when Dad wants to forget what happened. I don’t think the new bride is quite up to a full-on restaurant just yet.”
“Dads, huh? Mine was a doozy, but he did it tough all his life. Never knew anything but hard work and hard living. All this was his place before I got it, back in the days when the succession laws were simple.” Berry ate steadily, rested his fork to take a swallow of wine. “This is a good Beef Thingy. She never does it the same way twice.”
“You’re going to miss her when she goes.”
“I will. She’ll be back, but out of the scene a while.”
When Clancy saw him look at her from under his brows it wasn’t only the chilli creating some heat. “She’s very good at her job.” Clancy knew he couldn’t see her face redden.
“I reckon you are, too.” He sat back a minute. “I happen to like my lamb fillet medium rare. Best way to have it.”
Her gaze met his, the green eyes lively. Her heart did a little skip and a jump. She concentrated on the Beef Thingy and a moment or two passed in silence. Then, “It’s hard to beat a slow roasted shoulder with rosemary and wild garlic, and a herby parmesan crust.”
A beat. “That is very true.” He leaned on his elbows. “So what has our Heidi got you doing tomorrow?”
“I’ll work with her all day. She wanted me to prepare a few bits.” She waved her hand back at the coolroom. “And so we’ll get something together for tomorrow night’s service.”
“Will that dessert be ready?”
She nodded, finishing up her meal. Her glass was nearly empty but she pushed it away. Too dangerous to be sitting here with the boss drinking the smoothest, palate-pleasing sensuous red she’d had in years. All she needed was a dark chocolate torte, a dollop of thick Australis Island cream, and heaven would be at her feet.
Or more trouble.
“Think you should save me some. Am a bit partial to desserts.” Berry ate his last mouthful, swiped the serviette over his mouth and took another swallow of the big red. “You know what? I might walk you back to your place and head off home with Rommy. Will be a big day tomorrow.”
Clancy reached across and took his plate. “Right. I’ll just get all this cleared away...”
They both tidied up. Berry ran through the lock-up procedure, the lights, and the key lock combination. Rommy watched beside him.
Outside, she couldn’t see a thing. “Lucky there’s a moon rising.” Clancy looked into the night sky. “It’s pitch black out here.” She stood by the back door as he shut the place.
“Come on, I know my way around backwards.”
He took her hand as naturally as if he’d been doing it for years.
Of course she knew it was because she’d break her nose on something if he didn’t. It was a hand-hold, and it was guiding her, not grasping her, nor tugging, nor being cute or overly friendly.
It was just a hand-hold.
“Here you go,” he said and opened a door with his other hand, flipped on the light switch in the bedsit.
They both stared at the pile of smelly linen on the unmade bed. Faint wafts of it had settled throughout the room.
Neither made any attempt to drop the others’ hand. “Not looking good,” he said still staring at the bed. “I forgot about it.”
Hands dropped.
Clancy walked into the room. “Doesn’t matter. You said it was clean, it’s just cupboard-musty.”
Berry walked in behind her. “I’ll look again. There must be something at the house. I didn’t think it was this bad.”
“Don’t bother. I can crawl on top of it and—” She waved her hands around.
“Won’t hear of it. I’ll only be a few minutes.” He turned to face her, hesitating. Rommy came and sat beside her, looking up. “Truth is, I don’t want to...”
“...what?”
“...leave.” Berry looked down at his hands. “I mean, I’ll leave, I mean I’d rather not leave you here. There’s no key in your door. I’m sure it’s at the house.”
Rommy kept looking up at her.
“Oh.” Clancy shrugged a little at that. Did anyone have keys in their doors out here? “I’ll come up to the house with you. Find some linen. And you know, when we come back if you want we could sample that panna cotta tonight.” Clancy darted across to one of her bags and pulled out a lightweight jacket.
“Great idea.” He got to the doorway just ahead of her. “Leave the light on, the screen keeps the mozzies out.”
Rommy took off ahead of them.
When Clancy left the bedsit and Berry’s hand found hers again, she pretended she hadn’t noticed. Berry seemed to be acting the same.
His hand was warm, and big, and dry and strong and... He leaned across, gently holding her arm close and let his lips brush her cheek.
She smiled, but didn’t turn to face him. She looked out into the dark night, holding her breath.
They sauntered on up the slope to Berry’s house. The moon was climbing in the sky and its light was just enough to show her the pathway. Berry’s unerring stride indicated how well he knew the way.
His hand had tightened on hers.
Conversation was light, about nothing much. It seemed to Clancy to be flowing easily enough but about what, she couldn’t remember. A couple of times their shoulders bumped.
A couple of times her head cleared. This was dangerous territory.
Delicious territory.
By the time they got to the house, Rommy was spinning round and round inside. He seemed pretty happy about something.
The lights flicked on and Clancy found herself in an immense kitchen with gardenia-white cupboards, a huge island bench with a sink in it and a polished deep mahogany timber top. She looked across at a solid timber table made with great beams which would have taken several very fit men to move.
She wanted to run her hands over every surface. She spun around to eye the oven, and the expanse of cooktop which mimicked the one in the restaurant, though not as big. “You use this kitchen much?”
“Me? No.” Berry was alongside her, leaning back on the island bench and staring at the oven, too. “I built it so I could have friends stay with me when I take a break from the restaurant. Doesn’t happen often.”
“It’s beautiful.” She turned back again to survey the rest of the place. Her gaze swept over a large antique sideboard, and the many family photos in frames which sat upon it. She walked over. “There are a lot of people here.”
He came to stand behind her. “There were four brothers who settled here back in 1920, and they’re the patriarchs. The families still mostly have connections on Australis. I’ve got a brother, Flynn, he’s a stonemason here, Riley, my sister comes back and forth, and a cousin Joseph lives here on the north coast. He’s a grandkid of those two.” His finger moved to the right. “And this one’s my great grandfather, Phillipe.” He pointed to a formidable looking man.
“And which lady is great-grandma?”
“She’s the regal one third from the left. Esther Beresford.”
“She is that.” Clancy peered in and focused on a slim dark-haired woman whose striking features would have attracted many a suitor of the day. Or, any day. Classical beauty. She knew Berry was close, caught his scent as if his personal warmth had a signature.
Berry’s hand came over her shoulder and he pointed at another photo, and a stern looking character seated beside a woman. “That’s Phillipe there with his second wife. We don’t have any pictures of him with Esther. The second wife is Greg’s great-grandmother.”