at the moment,’ he said as he put the bread down and poured a glass of water for each of them.
‘I'm sure it will be lovely.’
Tex switched the radio on. Hopefully, a bit of background music would help her relax.
‘This isn't looking very businesslike,’ commented Anna.
‘Let's talk business if it makes you feel happier.’ Hmm, this was going to be harder than he thought.
‘Have you always been a chef?’ she asked.
‘Yes. I never wanted to be anything else.’
‘Where did you train?’
‘France, of course. That is where the best chefs in the world are and I was fortunate enough to have some very good teachers. I worked for some of the great chefs in France.’
‘Any I would know?’
‘Edward Le Manquais. You have heard of him no doubt?’
‘Of course. He's a bit more than just a chef now, he's something of a celebrity in his own right,’ said Anna. ‘Didn't he do a reality restaurant show on TV recently?’
‘Ahh yes, the celebrity chef. I am afraid that is not for me.’
‘By choice?’
‘By choice,’ Tex affirmed. ‘Does that make any difference to you?’
Anna looked surprised by the question. ‘To me? No. No, it doesn't make any difference. That doesn't worry me the way you think.’
‘What way do I think?’ probed Tex. He waited patiently whilst she took a sip of water. He wasn’t letting her off the hook that easy. Experience told him if he said nothing for long enough, the other person would carry on speaking.
‘Okay, here goes,’ she said. ‘You probably think I would be impressed and pleased that I had landed a famous client. That I would be imagining fancy parties, champagne, rubbing shoulders with the rich and famous, but the truth is, I couldn't be less interested in that.’
‘Go on, I'm still listening,’ coaxed Tex.
‘Don't say you didn't ask,’ said Anna with wry smile. ‘Mark was a professional footballer. We married when we were very young; I was pregnant. Mark had a lot of temptation in the female stakes. He hasn’t got much willpower. Part of it was because he was a bit famous, and as a footballer there were plenty of offers from a slew of female fans. So my experience of being with someone well known isn't a particularly good one.’
‘You said the other night that you were separated but not divorced.’
‘That’s right. He went off to America and we have just never got round to it. Part of me doesn't want to become a statistic, but to all intents and purposes we might as well be divorced.’
Tex smiled reassuringly at her. There was obviously a lot more to it but now wasn't the time. He'd established that Mark wasn't a threat.
‘How did we get onto the subject of my personal life?’ asked Anna. She leant back in her chair. Tex couldn't help noticing the button of her blouse had come undone, revealing a glimpse of white flesh encased in black lace. He forced himself to look at her face, keeping his eyes level with hers to answer her question.
‘It's important if we are going to work together that we know each other properly. It's not a regular sort of office job, there may be times when you have to accompany me on social events. It’s real important that we know each other well so we’re comfortable together.’
Anna didn't look convinced, but didn't challenge him either.
‘When do I get to find out about you?’ she asked.
‘I will get the soup and then you can ask me anything you like.’
Tex returned to the makeshift kitchen. Leaning against the work surface he took a deep breath as he recalled her open blouse. Reappearing a few minutes later with two bowls of soup, he placed one in front of Anna. Her blouse now done up, he ignored the self-conscious look on her face.
‘This looks nice,’ she said, picking up her spoon and dipping it into the thick, orange liquid. ‘Tastes good too. Let me guess. Carrot and … mmm … not sure. There's definitely another flavour but I'm not sure what it is.’
‘Coriander.’
‘Ah yes, I recognise it now. It's lovely.’
‘Thank you.’
They ate together in silence for several minutes. A comfortable silence, with just the radio to fill the space between them.
‘So, in the interest of fairness and Anglo-American relations, I think I'll take you up on your offer,’ said Anna. Tex looked blankly at her. ‘Exchange of information. Background information. It's your turn,’ she smiled.
‘What do you wanna know?’
‘You tell me. If you were me, what would I want to know?’
Tex made an act of looking thoughtfully up to the ceiling, as if he were recalling any relevant information. ‘Where to begin,’ he mused.
‘Why the name Tex?’
‘That’s an easy one. Short for Texas, where I’m from. Brenham to be exact. When I went off to Europe, I was something of a novelty. You don’t get many cowboys from Texan ranches wanting to learn how to cook.’
She smiled. ‘Okay, what else?’
She’d seemed pretty unfazed by that, which was cool. ‘I am forty-five years old,’ he continued. ‘I have one daughter. Julie-Ann, she’s twenty-two. Lives in Paris.’
‘And Mrs Garcia?’
He was used to that sort of question. They all asked sooner or later. It was still difficult to say, nonetheless.
‘Estelle, Julie-Ann’s mother, my wife, she died six years ago.’ He watched the surprise flicker across Anna’s eyes, quickly followed by a look of concern. She went to speak, probably to offer her condolences, but he raised his hand slightly. She didn’t need to say anything, it wasn’t necessary.
‘She was ill for a short time,’ he continued. ‘Liver cancer. There was nothing they could do for her. Afterwards, I promised I would make a success of the restaurant, just as we had both planned, except I didn’t stay in Paris, I came to England. Jamie and Yvonne helped me a lot, both professionally and personally.’
‘And since then?’ Anna spoke gently.
Tex knew what she was asking, and in a strange way he found it refreshing. Most women avoided the question once they heard about Estelle.
‘And since then I haven’t had any meaningful or long relationship.’ He had answered honestly, and hoping to retrieve the light tone the lunch had started out with, said buoyantly, ‘I’ve been too busy opening the restaurant and working hard to get my first Michelin star at my Guildford restaurant.’
‘Do
