Forever: Broken #3 Read online

  “Okay.”

  “One, how to chop with your eyes closed.”

  My eyes widen involuntarily when he brings a long, flat blade to the table followed by a bucket of carrots, potatoes and leeks.

  When he rounds the table and holds up a long, silver scarf, I immediately take a step back. My face is no doubt as panic stricken as my heart. Endless thoughts of him tying me up and mutilating me flit through my mind. I mean, how well do we really know this guy? For all we know, it could be humans he’s using instead of lamb. Do we even taste of lamb?

  Why am I wondering what humans taste like?

  The world goes black as the soft silver fabric tickles the bridge of my nose.

  “You want me to wield a sharp knife without my eyesight?”

  “Not immediately; I’ll aid you.”

  I feel his chest against my back and my entire body tenses. I’ve never been in such close proximity with another human in the past two years, except for Nathan. I don’t like it. It makes me uncomfortable.

  “Relax.” His hands cover mine and guide them to the knife and the potato. “I want you to learn the sizes our recipes require.”

  “Without my eyesight?”

  His laugh carries his breath through my ear. “This is how I learned and I learned quickly.”

  “I’ll lose a finger.”

  “No, you’ll be more careful because…”

  “I have no sight,” I finish and blow out a breath. His hands shake mine loose and make quick work of sliding through the potato. “Carrots and such are easier as we have the slicer, but you still need to work the slicer and you still need to know the sizes.”

  “Got it.”

  “Chef,” he snaps.

  “Sorry,” I mumble and he clears his throat, a persistent nudge to get me to finish the way he wants me to. “Chef. Sorry, Chef.”

  “Inside this kitchen I’m not your friend. I am not your husband’s friend. I don’t know you beyond this kitchen while I’m in this kitchen. So when I yell at you,” his hands continue to move mine, carefully chopping the potato, “nothing is personal; everything is professional. I tell this to all of my staff and I stand by it. Do you understand?”

  “Yes, Chef.”

  “There will be no personal arguments that don’t involve this kitchen within a mile radius of this kitchen.”

  “Y…yes Chef.”

  “There will be no flirting or chatting with other members of this kitchen, unless on break, and even then no personal attachments will be formed.” He barks, slicing the final slice of the potato. I feel its moist smooth texture under my fingers. “There will be no meeting outside of work. I want no drama brought into this kitchen. Human nature forces us to act like fools when angry at another. Do you understand?”

  “I think so.” I clear my throat and wet my lips that have dried from the nerves.

  “You think so?” His tone is high, disbelieving. “You only think you understand?”

  “No,” I quickly correct. “I understand, Chef.”

  “Good, then fucking say that next time.” He releases me. “Keep cutting those very same sizes. You were paying attention, weren’t you?”

  “Hard not to when you’re trying to step into my body, Chef.” I remark and his answering chuckle surprises me.

  “Good. There may be hope for you yet. Now chop.”

  Chapter Three

  The sun is lightening the sky when I finally make it home. It’s almost five in the morning and even at such an hour, the traffic in London can be a battle.

  Quietly and slowly I unlock the front door and head inside. It’s dark save for the small lights on the wall, dimly lighting my path.

  I can’t recall a time I’ve ever come home to a sleeping Nathan. It’s surreal.

  He looks so peaceful. I almost daren’t undress in case I wake him, but somehow I manage it. Once I’m stripped to skin, I sit on the bed and kiss his temple. He rests on his stomach, his arm hugging the underside of his pillow. His lips are smushed to the shape of a wonky heart. I kiss the corner and run my fingertips down his arm.

  Not a single ounce of me recalls falling asleep. When I finally awake at noon the next day, it’s to find a note on the side that reads:

  ‘Taken the kids to the store. I didn’t want to wake you. Sleep well; call me when you’re up. I miss you.’

  x N x

  Smiling, I quickly tie my hair back and seek out my bag and phone. My body aches badly from the day before. I try to focus on the silver lining - all of the weight I’ll be losing and muscle I’ll be toning.

  Unfortunately, due to being so bloody tired when I arrived home, I didn’t put my phone on charge, so in order to use it I have to stand by the plug. This means I can’t cook and talk at the same time and I am famished, but my partner means more to me than my stomach so calling him wins.

  Sigh.

  The second my phone turns on it rings. My mum’s face and number light up the screen. I contemplate disconnecting but I owe her a call.

  “How is it going? Is it marvellous? Are you learning a lot?” She jabbers, hardly pausing in between each question. “I’ve been trying to call you all morning…”

  “I was sleeping,” I explain, smiling at the franticness with which she’s speaking. “Late night last night; yes it’s marvellous; it’s hard, but I’m learning.”

  “Do you need me to come and stay for a while? Help you with the kids?”

  “No, we’re good. We’ll save that token for when we’re desperate.” My mum would come to us at the drop of a hat, but she only gets so much time off work. I’d never force her to use her holiday time if I weren’t desperate. We’re lucky to have her.

  “You should consider hiring a nanny.”

  “Nathan is certain he can cope and he’s doing amazing so far.”

  “So far.” She emphasises the words. “It’s only day two.”

  “Ye of little faith.” My smile becomes a frown. “Don’t be so negative.”

  “Sorry, I don’t mean to be. I miss you guys.”

  My smile returns and so does the softness in my voice. “We miss you too. Emily can say ‘Nana’ now. She sees your pictures and videos and her face lights up.”

  “Good. Kiss those chubby cheeks for me.”

  “I will but I have to go. I need to call Nathan.”

  “Where is he?”

  “At the store most probably. He loves taking the kids there. The customers love it.” I check my phone as it vibrates with each incoming message I’ve received during the time it has been switched off. “I’ll call you later. I love you.”

  “Bye, Sweetie. Love you too.”

  The line disconnects and I waste not a single second to call my one and only.

  “Hey, you’re alive.” He sounds happy and also breathless. I love the deep, husky sound of his voice. It awakens my very soul.

  “Barely, I ache.” He chuckles at my moaning. “I miss you; where are you guys?”

  “We are having lunch after a pleasant stroll through Hyde Park.”

  I hear Dillan yelling, “Pigeon!”

  Nathan sighs and I laugh.

  “Or it was a pleasant stroll.” He mumbles so quietly I only just hear him.

  “You know how much he loves birds.”

  “No, it’s not that… can I call you back?”

  “What? Why?” My heart begins pattering a quick beat. “What’s wrong?”

  “My umm… my mother.”

  Holy crap. My face flushes with fire. I’m so angry knowing she’s even within five miles of my children. “She’d better not be trying to talk to you.”

  “Of course she won’t, but I’d rather she didn’t see our children. I’ll call you.” He hangs up before I can protest, not that I would. Clearly he needs both hands free to steer the children away from that wicked witch.

  Speaking of his parents, his dad’s trial is soon. He had a heart attack two months after he almost killed us both and they postponed the event, though he hasn’t
been let off in the meantime. I’m not entirely sure how he has been dealt with; Nathan hates speaking about it. What I do know is he’s looking at a life sentence. I just hope his pull in the business world, his money and his lack of a criminal record don’t influence that.

  That man is a monster and he deserves every single ounce of pain and punishment that he gets. If I could personally shoot him in the face, I would.

  His mother is no better. Vile monsters, the pair of them.

  Though thinking such dark thoughts hardly makes me much better. I shouldn’t be thinking of them at all.

  Deep breaths.

  Nathan doesn’t call me back and I don’t want to bother him if he’s ushering the kids around, so I take the time alone to do the chores and have a shower. I have to be at work at four, thankfully not too early, so I have time to recover, though I’d really like to see my babies before I vanish for twelve hours again.

  Gwen: Are you coming home at all? I have to leave again soon.

  Nathan: We’re on our way. Traffic is terrible. X

  It always is, but I’m too scared to use the underground alone. I grew up in small towns and big cities scare me. The moment I get the chance, I’ll be out of London and back in the countryside. As awful as the memories are that that house held, it was the first place I ever truly felt at home. I miss the quiet. I miss the scents. I miss how I felt being there with Nathan. I smile when my mind calls upon the memory of the time Nathan proposed to me in a letter and I avoided it for days. This then triggers the memory of the conversation I had with Sasha last night.

  Gwen: Has he proposed yet?

  Sasha: He’s not home from work yet.

  Gwen: Oh…

  Sasha: Should I check his pocket?

  Gwen: Absolutely not! Let him do this his own way.

  I’m surprised that Tommy hasn’t mentioned anything though. I only spoke to him last Friday. We don’t text much these days; we call and chat. He hates texting; he feels as though it’s too impersonal. That and he doesn’t want to waste time typing when he can get what he needs to say out in less than five minutes.

  Sasha: You wouldn’t snoop?

  Gwen: Nope.

  Sasha: Boring. Where’s the excitement in that?

  Rolling my eyes but smiling broadly, I place my phone down and limp into the kitchen. I need lunch before work. Because I slept until late, my body clock is all wrong. I didn’t get breakfast until lunchtime and even though I’m not yet hungry, I don’t know what time I’ll get a break at work and be able to eat, so I’m going to stock up on energy foods now. A fruit salad and some Greek yoghurt should do the trick. I hope.

  I also pop a couple of painkillers with my lunch to help with the aching.

  “I’m sorry I’m so late,” Nathan calls as he enters but I don’t care about that. I’m just happy to see him and my little cuties.

  Dillan takes a running leap at me and immediately buries his face in my hair. Nathan balances Emily on his hip and nuzzles her nose with his. The way she smiles up at him with sleepy eyes to match his, I almost melt.

  “What happened with your birth lady?” I ask, not wanting to ruin this precious moment but I need to know.

  He shrugs and his eyes evade mine. “Nothing.”

  Somehow I don’t believe him. “Nothing?”

  “Yes, nothing.” Now he meets my eyes, his brows raised with indignation. “I’m serious. I took the kids and left.”

  “She didn’t see you?”

  He shrugs again and nuzzles Emily’s nose. She laughs and hits his cheeks with both hands. “We missed Mummy, didn’t we?”

  “Yeah,” Dillan grins, making me grin just as wide.

  “I love you all.” I kiss Nathan firmly on the lips and then my little girl, as Dillan clings tightly to my neck, and then I kiss him too. “Have you had a good day?”

  “The best! We’ve sold out of Forever Connected charms; there are only a few left.”

  “They’re becoming so popular,” I grin, proud of him for all of his accomplishments.

  “I’m going to have to design and make new ones. I’ve had quite a few requests.”

  “Maybe you can do a competition or something? See if people can design their own and the one you like the most will win an entire bracelet or something?”

  “Hmm,” he hums thoughtfully. “Not a bad idea; I’ll have a talk about it with the others.”

  “How bad is traffic?”

  “Gridlock.”

  Kissing him once more, I step back and thread my fingers through Emily’s wispy hair. “I should go then or I’m going to be late. Can we talk more about this later?” Taking our daughter from his arms and manoeuvring Dillan into his, we share a group hug and numerous kisses, and then I’m on my way.

  I’m grateful that I have the night off tomorrow or I think I might die.

  As expected, the traffic is manic but I’m ten minutes ahead of time when I finally make it to work. The relief I feel is substantial. I might have to start taking the underground though; it’d save me a lot of time and money. It’s just so scary!

  “Good, you are here. Taste this.” A spoon is forcefully pushed into my mouth by Kerim. Patience stands beside him, looking hopeful.

  The tangy soup hits my tongue and I’m not sure if I’m a fan.

  “How is it?” Patience asks.

  “Too much salt,” I state and Harold, the Station Chef claps his hands and calls, “I told you so.”

  “Fuck,” Patience hisses, scowling at me as though it’s my fault she fucked up the dish.

  “Next time don’t fucking argue or you’re fired,” Kerim bellows at her, throwing the spoon onto the same counter we chopped potatoes at in the early hours. “If I say it’s shit then it’s shit.”

  “But…”

  “No, you are the sous chef. You follow ME!” Kerim shouts, his nose an inch from hers. “Do you understand?”

  “Yes, Chef.” She mutters, her cheeks flushing with humiliation.

  “Come.” Kerim grips my arm and leads me out of the door. “You will follow me. We need to order meat.”

  “Will the kitchen be okay without you?”

  “Probably not, but we need to order meat.” He half drags me around the restaurant. “You need to learn the best cuts versus the worst cuts as this job will be yours as of next week.”

  “Why?”

  “Because you need to learn meat quality, fish quality, you must know it all.”

  My legs can hardly keep up with his long strides.

  We stop at the corner and two large, unlabelled chiller vans come into view.

  The men inside climb from the driver’s seats as though performing a synchronised move. I almost laugh when they both scratch their heads at the same time, though the performance ends when only the first man at the first van opens the sliding door on the side.

  Kerim steps in first and then tugs me up alongside him.

  There are pallets full of red meats on the left, all carefully sealed and contained, and the same for white meats on the right.

  “We need goose meat, lamb, beef, chicken and duck.” Kerim barks at me. “See this?” He holds a full, small duck up. “This is no good. Why?”

  “Because… umm…” I don’t see any imperfections.

  “Because it is not balanced. There is too much fat.”

  “So, no fat?” I enquire.

  He rolls his eyes. “Meat must always have fat. Fat holds a lot of flavour and makes the sauces taste good. It needs to be balanced. Seven percent fat to ninety three percent meat for the ducks. They are too small to allow more.” He throws the duck into the bin behind him. “Are you following?”

  “It makes sense.” I watch as he skilfully fondles each individual bag of meat, looking for the best cuts, until he has four plastic pallets full of the meats he needs. He pays the van man from a packet of money stuffed into the breast pocket of his white coat.

  “Okay, now the fish.”

  “I genuinely don’t know much about fish
.”

  He turns to stare at me, his face an expressionless mask. Then he turns back to the second van as the van man from the first van takes the pallets towards the restaurant.

  “Then we will teach you this too.” He waves his hand and, like before, we step into the second van and he immediately peruses the many fish within. I can’t tell a haddock from a bass. This is going to require some serious research.

  “You stink,” Nathan insists the second I step into the house. He pinches his nose with his fingers. “I kind of wish I hadn’t waited up for you now.”

  “I know; I’m sorry. I’ve been at the fish market for the past hour studying fish.”

  “Studying fish?” He sounds bunged up from being unable to breathe through his nose. I start stripping off my clothes the second he holds a bin bag open for them. “That sounds… odd.”

  “I can’t tell the difference between cod and every other fish,” I admit, dropping my knickers to the floor with my leggings. “Well I can now, but I couldn’t before.”

  “Nice.”

  “I’m immune to the smell. Am I horrific?”

  “I’d still do you.” He leans in to press his lips to mine but makes a hasty retreat. “After you’ve showered.”

  “Coward,” I cry jokingly and make my way up the stairs. Nathan follows closely behind with a bottle of disinfectant in one hand and a sponge in the other. If he plans on cleaning me with that, we’ll be having issues.

  I’m forced to shower three times before he’s satisfied and by the end of the third time, the house stinks of disinfectant and Nathan is fast asleep in bed, the empty bottle of cleaning fluid resting on its side on the bedside table.

  Also my skin is red raw but I smell of raspberries so I’m not totally unhappy about it.

  It’s a good thing I love him.

  I’m awoken when a child lands heavily on my stomach. I “oof” as the wind is knocked out of me. A mess of brown curls tickles my nose and Dillan’s giggle as he climbs up my body makes this sudden wake up the best kind of wake up.