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‘If you’re wearing lacy underwear and stockings then yes, it’s very safe,’ he laughed.
‘You weren’t supposed to see that,’ I said, mortified. ‘Is this convent-style get-up more like it?’
Xavier nodded. ‘Sadly, it is. Now, time to impress them with your work. The risotto is nearly ready. I’ll bring it up in ten minutes. They don’t usually drink with their lunch, but best to go and check.’
I went back up to the dining room where Liv was armed with a breadbasket, offering Luca and Genevieve freshly baked rolls with slices of salted butter.
‘Much better,’ Genevieve said when she saw me.
‘I’m not sure I agree,’ Luca replied, and I blushed.
‘I’m very sorry about that,’ I said, dithering. ‘I hadn’t realised there were two different navy dresses.’
‘Not at all,’ Luca said, with a chuckle. ‘You’ve given us some ideas on how to update the uniform.’
Genevieve tutted.
‘Would you like a glass of wine with your risotto, or do you prefer to keep a clear head for skiing?’ I asked, wanting to change the subject.
‘I’ll save myself for later,’ Luca said. ‘I want to get out on the mountain. Just a beer for now and I’ll talk you through the cellar system when I’m back.’
‘Sparkling water for me,’ Genevieve said, her gold bangles jangling.
‘Of course,’ I said, running back to the bar, where Liv was lifting hot bowls from the dumb waiter and polishing them with a soft cloth.
‘Ahmagadddd,’ I whispered.
‘Don’t worry, they thought it was funny.’
‘I’m going to pass out with the stress of it all. And they’re not even interested in the wine yet – all they want is a lager and a water.’
We sniggered.
Liv placed the empty bowls in front of Genevieve and Luca just as Xavier appeared, beating the risotto in a parmesan wheel to finish off the dish. He spooned a large portion of cheesy risotto into each bowl as Liv followed behind with a baseball bat of black pepper. I carefully placed the drinks down with a bow to complete the lunch-dance, then the three of us shrank away so they could enjoy their food. What a bloody palaver.
‘Is it like that every time?’ I asked once we were safely in the kitchen.
‘No, we don’t normally dress up in their clothes,’ Xavier snorted with laughter.
‘Oh God, no. I know, I’m mortified.’ I sat at the kitchen table and put my head in my hands. ‘Do you think I can get past it?’
‘It’s totally fine,’ Liv said. ‘I saw the glint in Genevieve’s eye; she was trying not to laugh.’
‘So, what do we do now? Shall I go back up and see if they want more drinks?’ I asked, anxious to please. I didn’t want them to think I was completely incompetent.
‘They’ll be gone before you get chance,’ Xavier said, as he wiped the parmesan wheel with a damp cloth and wrapped it in cling film to go back in the fridge.
‘Yeah – they’ll have scoffed the risotto and be out on the mountain by the time we go back up,’ Liv said, ‘which means I can leave you two to it and get out there as well.’
It was a relief to know I wasn’t being frogmarched up the mountain on my first day. Xavier was ferreting around in the cupboard for ingredients and came back to the table with a bagful of apples and a bottle of red.
‘Genevieve and Luca are out with clients for dinner this evening, but I want us to practise some dishes for another day,’ Xavier said, removing six Granny Smiths from the bag and placing them on the counter.
‘Laters, you two.’ Liv blew us a kiss and ran off down the corridor, desperate for that feeling of freedom out on the mountain. But my freedom was in here. In the kitchen. Surrounded by food and getting ready to make magic.
‘Bonjour la classe,’ Xavier said, with a smile. ‘Today, we will be making a French classic with a twist. Lamb terrine edged in green apple jelly, served with spiced brioche toast and balsamic fig jam.’
‘Ooh, yes please, that sounds delicious,’ I said, wide-eyed, imagining the satisfying crunch of pâté on toast.
