Page 11 of Things We Need to Say (Second Chance Love Stories #2)

‘And now I insist that you go home.’

She nodded. ‘I will. Now that I know we have everything covered, I should be able to get some sleep.’

‘Yes, that’s the best thing.’ He paused and decided to ask the question regardless of her reaction.

‘Look, you can tell me to mind my own business and I suspect you probably will, but is it really just food poisoning? I’m worried in case you’ve .

. .’ He trailed off, not knowing how to voice his fears.

‘You’re worried in case I’ve lapsed.’ She finished his sentence for him.

‘Well, yes, I’m sorry but . . .’

‘There’s no need to be sorry. I can see why it would look like that, but I promise you that isn’t happening. I never want to go back to that place again.’

‘Okay, I believe you.’ He studied her face and saw the telltale crease that appeared across her forehead whenever she was thinking about something that troubled her. ‘But you know I’m here if ever you need to talk. Not just as your business partner, but as your friend.’

‘Yes, I know.’ She smiled. ‘And I’m grateful for it.’ She sighed and sank back into her chair. ‘You’re right, it’s not food poisoning...’

‘You know anything you tell me won’t go any further.’

She groaned. ‘Alex will kill me if he finds out I’ve told you. We promised that we wouldn’t say anything.’

‘He won’t find out from me but now you’ve got me really worried.’

‘There’s nothing to be worried about,’ she said. ‘The thing is, I’m pregnant.’

‘Oh, Liz!’ A rush of elation gushed through him and he flung his arms around her. Then he hastily retreated in case his sudden movement made her feel even more nauseous. ‘That’s wonderful news.’

She smiled again. ‘It is. Although when I insisted to Alex that we should keep it a secret until after the twelve-week scan, I didn’t know I’d feel this bad.’

‘How far gone are you? If you don’t mind me asking.’

‘Eight weeks. I was hoping I’d sail through the early weeks, but, seeing as that isn’t happening, I can hardly keep it from you when food is the last thing I want to see right now.’

‘I can imagine. Is it just confined to the mornings? Do you start to feel better as you get through the day?’

‘Mostly. By mid-afternoon, I’m usually back to my normal self. Although I have to admit, it’s taking it out of me and I’m exhausted in the evenings too.’

Jay refreshed the screen on his laptop. ‘We’re going to have to rethink these rotas. No lunchtime functions for you for the foreseeable, and late functions are out too.’

‘That doesn’t leave much, does it, though?’ The telltale frown had returned to her face.

‘No, but your health is more important. I can cover whatever I can and we’ll just have to hire in more agency chefs.’

‘That’s not going to look good on the profit margins.’

‘Maybe not, but we just need to keep going until we can work out a better long-term solution. Hopefully it won’t be too long before you’re feeling better.’

‘I can still do a lot of the prep for the evenings. That might ease the pressure.’

‘And maybe take on more of the paperwork? Find some better deals with our food suppliers to take some of the sting away from higher staffing bills.’

‘Yes, I can do that.’ She paused. ‘I’m sorry, Jay.’

‘What are you sorry for? It’s brilliant news and I couldn’t be happier for you both.’ Jay knew how important having children was to both Alex and Liz, and now they had this chance they all had to do whatever they could to protect it.

‘I’m glad you feel like that. But I can’t help thinking I’m scuppering your own plans after what you told me the other day.’

‘I’m sure we’ll find a way to work it out.’

‘Yes, we will. I don’t want this to get in the way of what you want to do too.

But actually, I’m glad I’ve told you, and I’m going to tell Alex you know.

We decided to keep it private in case anything went wrong.

I don’t think either of us could bear everyone’s sympathy if we suffered that loss, especially Alex.

But you’re not everyone, Jay, and I realise now that I need your support, especially as far as the business is concerned.

But can we keep this between ourselves?’

‘Of course we can. I won’t tell a soul.’ He paused. ‘And as it’s time to come clean, I need to make a confession too. I’ve applied to enter a regional competition.’

‘But that’s great, tell me all about it.’

Jay outlined the nature of the competition and then added, ‘I might not even get through to the heats.’

‘I’m sure you will. When do they take place?’

‘Towards the end of March.’

She smiled. ‘Well, that’s okay, then. I should be feeling better and I can pick up the slack. And when we know for sure, we can always take fewer bookings during that period to give us both some breathing space.’

‘That’s a good idea. Maybe cut back on our own bookings and concentrate on Diva’s, so we can fulfil our contract with them.’

‘It will mean tightening our belts, though. Are you okay with that?’

‘Yes,’ he replied determinedly. ‘If it means we both get what we want in the end, it will be worth it. And in the meantime, you have to promise to be honest with me, and don’t try to battle on if you’re not feeling up to it.’

‘I will.’ She put her hand on her stomach, protectively.

He grinned at her. ‘Then we’ll work it out together.’

* * *

After Liz left, Jay made himself another cup of coffee and pulled his great-grandmother’s recipe book and a notebook out of his bag.

For a moment he smoothed his hand over the leather covering.

He’d been itching to look at it properly, but now the time had come he hesitated at turning over the pages. He wanted to savour his first read.

The handwriting at the front was larger and more rounded than in the later pages. Not only that, but it was part recipe book, part diary. Fascinated, Jay took a sip of his coffee and began to read.

Today Mummy showed me how to make a Victoria sponge cake. The trick is to use the freshest eggs possible and beat them really hard into the butter and sugar. It’s the only way to create a really fluffy sponge.

When it was baked, we filled it with Mummy’s homemade strawberry jam and lots of cream.

As Jay read, he realised his great-grandmother, Annie, had started to write the recipe book when she was eleven years old in 1939 — just before the start of World War Two.

Things would have been about to change for the innocent girl his great-grandmother had been, baking alongside her own mother, using recipes already handed down the generations.

Life was about to get a lot tougher with not just the introduction of food rationing, but also the threat of Hitler’s bombs raining down on them.

Jay read on, learning how in September 1939 there were bumper crops of berries wherever there were hedgerows, and the women and children had all joined together for fruit-picking and jam-making sessions.

The results would see them through the months ahead when the taste of something sweet would be a welcome treat.

Annie wrote about helping her brothers turn the garden into an allotment to grow vegetables while her father was already doing his basic training before being sent to France.

The pages were full of enthusiasm as they turned their small garden into something that would reward them with a largely vegetarian diet when meat became scarce.

Jay scribbled down notes about dishes that might be suitable to showcase regional food of London and the south-east. When he finished his read-through, he looked up, and was surprised to see that the winter sky was already darkening into night.

He yawned and stretched, knowing that he had some promising ideas for what he could cook in the initial heats of the competition.

All he had to do now was to add a twist to the dishes so he could turn them into fine dining.