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She scooted to the edge of her seat, her arms resting on her knees, staring out over the infinite expanse of the Caribbean Sea which undulated like a pool of spilled ink beneath a cerulean sky. She fixed her eyes on a brightly coloured bird pecking at a pod on the branch of one of the cocoa trees before skipping off to try something new.
After a few seconds, she pulled herself back to reality and resolved to put Luke completely from her mind. St Lucia was a fabulous place to be; not just for its physical beauty, stunning though it was, but for the underlying current of calm and tranquillity that flowed from the proximity of nature and from its people.
Who could complain about doing the dishes when there was that view to distract you from the suds and the wrinkled hands?
‘They’re here!’ declared Ella, pushing herself up from the sunlounger.
Accompanied by a fanfare of loud reggae music, a white van screeched to a halt in the courtyard and three men tumbled from the front seat.
Millie glanced at her watch. Ten-thirty. Not a good start. She cast a worried look at Ella who nodded her agreement. They would have to express their concern about timekeeping from the outset otherwise the project would never be completed in time for the wedding guests. They needed the guys to turn up on the dot of seven a.m. every day in order to achieve the deadline, which meant they were already behind before they had even started. Anxiety gnawed at the pit of Millie’s stomach.
‘Is this it?’ asked the boss as he chewed on his unlit cigarette, his brown eyes widened in surprise. ‘Was the kitchen delivered like this?’
‘There’s no point in taking the offensive, Fitzgerald Clarke. You’re over three hours late and it just won’t do. I intend to have a word with your mother about your timekeeping unless you stay late to make up for what’s been lost today. You are fully aware how tight the schedule is. I shall expect you to stick to your promise to have everything finished by next Friday. This is Amelia Harper who will be overseeing the project. Don’t think of messing her around or you’ll have me to answer to.’
Fitz and his two friends stared at the diminutive chef, their lips curled into smiles of amused contrition, but Millie could see a soupçon of apprehension in their eyes. Ella pushed her way past them and through the jungle of cardboard to retrieve the plans.
‘Now, these are the specifications. It all looks pretty straightforward.’ She paused and looked directly at Fitz. ‘Well, what are you waiting for?’
Millie loved the way Ella’s Caribbean accent became much more pronounced when she spoke to her fellow St Lucians. She watched as Fitz opened his mouth and closed it again on seeing the steely determination in Ella’s expression. He removed the cigarette from his lips, shoved it in the pocket of his low-slung jeans and swept his dreadlocks from his lined face.
‘No worries, Ella. Me and my men will make sure that you have the best kitchen in the whole of St Lucia.’ Fitz offered Millie his hand before turning to his workmates. ‘Pleased to meet you, Amelia. This is Alphonse, but we call him Alph, and this is Vic.’
‘Oh, please, call me Millie.’
The two young men in dusty jeans and ancient Bob Marley tee-shirts offered Ella a respectful nod and a quick smile of acknowledgement to Millie but didn’t venture any conversation.
‘Ah, Alph, yes, I thought I recognised you. I know your Aunt Effie. She’s treasurer of our village council.’ Ella’s mahogany eyes held Alph’s for several seconds and Millie thought she saw him cower. All three men had clearly got the message that their tardiness would not be tolerated from here on in. Ella Johnson was not a woman to be messed with.
‘Yes, Ms Johnson. No worries. Sorry we’re late today but…’ He glanced at Fitz for support but he had wisely disappeared into the kitchen with Vic and started to remove the plastic wrapping from the huge slabs of marble that would one day soon become the benchtops for the very first Paradise Cookery School.
Millie couldn’t help smiling. It was obvious they had hoped this would be an easy, laid-back job in a beautiful villa overlooking spectacular scenery with an infinity pool to cool off in after a hard day’s toil. They hadn’t factored in the indomitable Ella Johnson being on site to direct operations and oversee their timekeeping. She experienced a surge of gratefulness for Claudia’s friend’s presence, acknowledging her own weakness for succumbing to a well-argued excuse. The Paradise Cookery School would never be delivered on time if it was solely down to her.
‘Now, Millie and I have important work to do organising the menus, making shopping lists and testing out the recipes. If you need anything we will be in the kitchen in the studio above the garage over there. There’s a lot for us all to do and we’ll stay out of your way provided you press on with the work. Friday the sixteenth is the deadline. That’ll leave Millie and I only two days to make sure the place is spotless and to stock the cupboards for the arrival of our first students. Don’t forget, Fitz, time seeps through our fingers no matter how hard we try to snatch it back. The kitchen must be ready on schedule. I expect to see you here at seven o’clock sharp tomorrow morning.’
‘Yes. Yes, ma’am. So, seven a.m. on the dot it is!’
Fitz gestured to Alph and Vic whose jaws had dropped as they listened to Ella’s orders. The three amigos nodded in unison and attacked the renovations with a vengeance to the soundtrack of Eddie Grant throbbing from the speakers of a paint-splattered stereo.
‘Thanks, Ella. I don’t think the men would have listened to me. I suspect that you’ve just saved the whole project from certain failure. I owe you.’
‘Lovely,’ smiled Ella, bustling up the stairs to Millie’s tiny kitchen. ‘You can repay me immediately by showing me how to make chocolate millefeuille and pistachio macaroons and a perfectbeurre blanc!’
‘Only if you show me how to cook authentic Creole dishes with local spices.’
Millie smiled at Ella’s enthusiasm to experiment with French recipes. Her culinary zeal reminded Millie of her own passion for all things gastronomic before the fiasco with Luke had wiped all the joy from her soul. However, she was rediscovering her culinary hunger. Ella’s desire to learn something new was infectious and she felt her spirits nudge northwards. It felt good to be asked to pass on her knowledge and skills and she was keen to get started.
A companionable silence descended as they sifted flour and whisked eggs and an idea began to snake its way round Millie’s brain – the birth of a dream that she had never thought possible before that day. Maybe, one day in the not-too-distant future, Claudia would allow her to present a course on French cooking to a class at the Paradise Cookery School.
How fabulous would that be, doing what she loved most in the world against such an idyllic backdrop?
The only seed of doubt in her mind was whether she could come to terms with what had happened with Luke in Oxford and fly away from the wreckage of their relationship. For the first time since the bombshell had landed, she truly thought she could. What was the alternative? Instead of starring in the lead role of her life, choosing to consign herself to that of supporting actress as a spinster aunt to Jen’s two daughters, Lola and Odette? There was no way she intended to die alone surrounded by a glut of uneaten macarons!
It was time to move on.
Chapter Eleven
The next morning, Millie woke to a clear head and the birds rehearsing their daily symphony instead of the usual cacophony of slamming doors and thundering traffic outside her tiny studio apartment above Café Étienne. Not only that, the view from their respective windows occupied diametrically opposed ends of the visual spectrum.
