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‘Don’t forget to bring some comfortable pyjamas and an overnight bag!’
She hangs up and I get to work. I go into Ariella’s boxes, grab the wine and pour it carefully into the decanter. I swirl it about a bit to let it breathe. Next stop, the fridge. I spot a dish with three duck legs suspended in duck fat. Bingo! She’d already made duck confit. I shoot off a text.
Mind if I cook off the duck legs? If not, how?
Not at all. Pop the dish in the oven at 180 fan, when the legs start bubbling in about 30 mins, remove the dish, lift the legs out and pop them under the grill on a drip tray for 15 mins.
Thanks mate, side suggestions?
There is salad in the fridge. Plate that up when you put the duck legs in so it gets to room temperature. The mash in the fridge will also work well with the leg.
How’s home? Tell Dahlia I miss her.
Nicole is coming over. Shouldn’t you be focused on her?
How did you know Nicole was coming over?
If you were alone you’d have stabbed a leg with the fork, popped it in the microwave and hoped for the best. We still have her coffee and her pain au chocolat in the freezer. Enjoy.
I set two dinner places the way Ariella does and follow her cooking instructions to the letter. As I place the duck legs under the grill, the doorbell goes.
‘Hey.’ I open the door to Nicole.
She is wearing more clothes than I have ever seen her wear but she looks irresistible. She is in a chunky jumper with leggings and thigh-high boots. Her silky blond hair is up in a tight bun and her face looks perfect, finished off with her usual red lipstick.
‘You look beautiful, Nicole.’ I beam at her.
She turns one side of her mouth down. I reach out to take her overnight bag from her. She lets me. Her deep inhale at the food cooking makes me feel good.
‘Dinner will be ready soon. Want me to take your coat?’
She nods and I hang it up before I get her a glass of red.
‘Delicious.’
‘Good. Take a seat, we’re almost ready.’
She finally smiles, sits and fixes her eyes on me as I carefully arrange the mash, salad and duck.
‘Bon appétit,’ I whisper as I take my first mouthful.
As ever, Ariella’s cooking doesn’t disappoint. The mash is earthy, almost gamey, right next to the salty duck. Nicole moans with pleasure.
‘There’s no way you made this, Caleb. Where did you order from?’
‘A gentleman never tells.’ If she finds out Ariella made this, she’ll flip her lid.
‘So, whatisall this, Caleb?’ She waves her fork around the apartment. ‘First you don’t talk to me at work, but I come here after. Then you avoid me and I can’t come any more. Last week, you were hugging me at work, but you ignored me later. Now you’re cooking for me and want to just hang out. What’s going on?’
‘I realise that I don’t know much about you, and I thought maybe that could change. We could be…healthier.’
‘I’m not sleeping with you, if this is a new tactic.’ Nicole takes another sip of her wine.
‘It’s not. I know I’ve been a bit of a bastard, and I thought we could just talk.’
She smirks as she lifts her eyebrows. ‘Where’s Rubella?’
‘At her parents. Why are you so hard on her? She’s not bad, you know.’
