Guess Who's Coming to Christmas Dinner (11 page)

He waved back and she realised he was waiting for her so they could walk into work together. She gathered her bags, climbed out of the car and watched him swagger towards her. Stewart Dunn was Mr Charm. He casually flirted with her every time she saw him, but so far she was managing to ignore it. When he’d first started on the ward six weeks ago the flirting had irritated her but it was done with such a happy, carefree manner that now she found herself enjoying his attention and she looked forward to seeing him. It brightened up her day.

‘Morning,’ he said looking her up and down. ‘Navy and white, that’s a lovely combination. Smart, yet casually on-trend.’

She giggled and shook her head in mock disapproval. ‘Stewart, you really shouldn’t make comments like that…’

He took the heavy briefcase from her. ‘Hey, it’s a compliment,’ he said cheerfully as he walked on ahead. ‘Go with them – you never know when they’ll come to an end.’

She began to walk alongside him while he swung her briefcase as if it was an empty plastic bag. Stewart wasn’t a good looking man, she thought, not compared to Michael, but he had a certain ruggedness which, coupled with his gentle caring nature when attending to the patients, was a heady combination. The rest of her nurses on the ward had nicknamed him ‘the gentle giant’.

They walked through the main entrance into the hustle and bustle of the hospital as it got ready to open its doors to the general public. Porters were pushing tall breakfast trolleys towards the lifts. A few patients in dressing gowns were slowly stretching their legs and walking to the hospital shop and Stewart greeted them cheerfully.

He took a deep breath, held his nose in the air sniffing and grinned. ‘Hmm, what a lovely hospital smell. A mixture of disinfectant and oh, my, what is that – scrambled egg?’

They laughed together and got into the staff lift where Davina pushed the button for the second floor. She nodded. ‘You’re right. I’ve always loved the smell of a hospital since I first started on the wards in my training.’

He studied her and she felt the hairs on the back of her neck tingle under his scrutiny. He placed the case on the floor and when he moved his arm she could smell the leather from his old biker’s jacket. It was black and padded with studs on the back which had worn away with age.

‘Hmm, I can just imagine you in your white uniform,’ he said staring into her eyes.

She looked into his eyes, which were large and oval with incredibly long eyelashes, and returned his stare – their eyes locked. Her heart was thumping and the palms of her hands began to sweat. As the lift moved slowly upwards she parted her lips to speak but couldn’t. She wanted to reprimand him for being suggestive and cheeky but felt transfixed and didn’t want to be the first to look away.

Suddenly, the lift bleeped to tell them they’d reached the second floor and the doors slid open. Startled, he handed her the briefcase and hurried out ahead. ‘See you later,’ he called. She heard the uncertainty in his voice as if he too was shocked at what they’d both just experienced.

Chapter Two

Michael and Tony stood in the factory. The noise from the machinery and three production lines was too loud for Michael to hear what Tony was saying and he pulled him by the arm into the prep room at the side. This small room was filled with quiet tumble machines and trolleys full of ingredients to make stuffing that would be used in the turkey breasts.

‘Let’s do the stuffing trial first today,’ Michael suggested. ‘It’s too busy in there at the moment and I’ll try and find the new production manager later to ask for a slot when we can run the new recipe.’

Tony nodded. ‘Good idea. Have we got everything we need?’

‘Yeah, it’s all piled up in the hold area,’ Michael said. ‘I’ll bring it through while you get the tumbler ready.’

While Michael deposited the large quantities of butter, olive oil, cubed smoked pancetta, onion, garlic, fennel, sage and fresh breadcrumbs into the front of the tumbler Tony adjusted the settings on the side. ‘Shall we start with a two-minute gentle mix?’

Michael agreed and when the mix was finished and deposited into a large stainless steel tub he inhaled the aromas. ‘Yep, it smells good. When I saw the retailer had asked for the addition of fennel I wasn’t sure, but this could work really well…’

This was the part of the job that Michael loved. The chefs all made 1 kilo recipes in the kitchen but it was his responsibility to take the recipes and scale them up to 80, 90 or even 100 kilo quantities that would work in the production equipment.

‘Hello,’ a female voice called from the doorway and they both looked up to see a lady in the obligatory white coat and mop cap. She walked towards them and Michael looked down on her petite five-foot-one frame and soft hazel eyes.

‘Hi, I’m Stella, the temporary production manager. And you two must be our process technologists?’

She held out a small delicate hand and Michael took it in his. Towering above her at six-foot-two he had to bend down slightly to speak to her. They introduced themselves and explained the new recipe they were trialling and she suggested a more convenient time for them to stuff the turkeys in the production area when it would be quieter.

She smiled at Michael with a definite twinkle in her eye. ‘And would it be possible for me to come up to the development kitchen later when you cook the turkey and stuffing? I’d love to taste it,’ she said slowly, moistening her full lips.

Michael liked her immediately. She seemed easy to talk with and extremely friendly. ‘Yes, of course – we’d like that. It’s always good to get second opinions.
Me and Tony are so used to making stuffing every year we get a little blasé…’

‘I can’t imagine you being laid back about anything,’ she teased looking him up and down. As Michael looked into her bright eyes he saw her pupils enlarge and her face flush.

Nah, he thought, she couldn’t be flirting with him, could she? Good God, women didn’t usually react like this around him and he quickly glanced over his shoulder to see if another man had entered the room. But all he saw was Tony grinning at him.

She made to move. ‘Great. I’ll look forward to it. Will you ring me on my mobile and let me know what time?’

He nodded dumbly and Tony bid her farewell as she went back into the production area.

Tony hooted with laughter at the look of astonishment on Michael’s face. ‘She fancies you…’

Michael tutted. ‘Don’t be ridiculous,’ he puffed, but pulled his shoulders back all the same.

They cleared up after the trial and wheeled the tub of stuffing into the
chiller to use later in the afternoon. Tony closed the door behind them and teased, ‘Ha! A knockback and come on all in the same morning. You’re really doing well today!’

‘It’s not funny…’ Michael snorted as they left the production area, but then couldn’t help laughing along with him.

***

Davina
was still in a tizzy as she reached her small office at the end of the ward. It wasn’t an office as such she kept telling everyone, but more of a cleaner’s cupboard with a desk in the middle. In the summer it was stifling hot with no windows and in the winter it was perishing cold with no heating. She dropped her briefcase onto the desk and booted up her PC wondering what the hell had just happened to her. And indeed, to him, because she was certain he’d felt the same. Park it up, she thought, and get yourself ready for the meeting in ten minutes.

***

Two hours later, just after Davina had returned from the meeting, her junior sister, Lisa, put her head around the door.

‘Coffee?’ she asked smiling.

Davina sighed and plopped down into the chair. ‘I’d love one.’ It seemed lately that there were more and more meetings to go to on a daily basis and as another ward manager had just commented, their jobs had very little to do with patients any more.

She thought of Stewart imagining her in a white uniform and remembered her early days. She’d loved the job when training and then qualifying as a junior staff nurse. She’d worked hard and long hours and had excelled in ward management – her mentor at the time had said her organisational skills were second to none. She’d wanted to make a difference to the way her patients were cared for and had quickly risen up the ladder with one promotion after another. But now, she thought, there were times when she missed the hands-on part of the job and was becoming disillusioned as to how much difference she could actually make.

Lisa reappeared with two mugs of coffee and sat down on the only other chair in the room. ‘Tough one?’ Lisa asked.

Davina
smiled at her friend. Lisa was thirty-six and divorced and was raising her three children alone. She was a damn good nurse and had been a close ally for the six years they’d worked together.

‘Yeah, it’s frustrating more than anything else,’
Davina said. ‘We are trying to suggest improvements but just get battered with budgets all the time…’

Lisa sighed. ‘I don’t know how or why you want to do the bloody job.’

Lisa’s pretty face clouded with what would look like bitterness to other people but Davina knew her better. Her apparent hard exterior was a camouflage for her compassionate soft centre – she had a heart as big as a lion.

‘I’m beginning to wonder myself, Lisa,’ she muttered as she sipped her coffee.

Lisa tugged at her white tunic stretched tight across her bulging midriff and looked at Davina with eyes full of concern. ‘It’s more than that though?’

Davina
knew there was no point trying to camouflage her other worries because Lisa would see straight though her. She nodded her head and sighed. ‘It’s the baby-making thing with Michael again. It’s just not happening and the more we try the more frustrated he gets and the more I’m beginning to dread it. Why can’t I do it?’

She choked back the sadness in her throat and looked anxiously past Lisa towards the open door. Lisa followed her eyes and kicked the door closed. ‘Look, love, it’ll happen. Just relax…’

She frowned and clenched her jaw. ‘Lisa, if one more person tells me to relax, I’ll scream!’

Lisa got up from her chair and put her arm along her shoulder. ‘I know. I’m sorry that was a rubbish answer but I
don’t know what else to suggest…’

Davina
sighed heavily and shook her head. ‘I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have snapped.’ She twirled her finger through the handle of her coffee mug. ‘You know, two years ago when we started trying in earnest, it was a new challenge and exciting waiting for the first few months. But then after six months I’d start to get upset when the period came and I’d bite my lip trying not to cry in front of him. But now it’s just seems like the norm to be ratty and horrible every month and I know I’ll get my bloody period no matter how many times we do it.’

She swallowed the tears and Lisa squeezed her shoulder in comfort. ‘I know, love. It must be awful for you. And as I’ve said many times before, it’s a crying shame because you’d make a lovely mum.’

She could feel Lisa’s chubby arm in the sleeve of her tunic. It reminded her of her mum and she grabbed a tissue from the box struggling not to break down. She blew her nose hard and took a deep breath. Trying an upbeat tone in her voice she mocked, ‘I mean bloody hell, it’s not like I want a hoard of them like Michael does – that would terrify me – but just one would do.’

Lisa grinned and tilted
Davina’s face up with her finger. ‘You can always borrow one of my little blighters…’

‘
Aah, they’re not blighters – they are lovely. And well you know it,’ she said feeling better, and then wanting to change the subject, she asked. ‘How are things out on the ward this morning?’

They discussed the morning’s theatre list and the consultant’s ward round which would take place after lunch then Lisa drained her coffee. ‘I’d better get going and leave you to it. I’ve got to arrange to see some upset relatives…’

‘Do you need me to come?’ Davina asked hoping she would agree. It would be lovely to feel wanted and useful again.

But Lisa shook her head.
‘No, thanks. I’ve got it covered. Stewart’s going to help me.’

Davina
noticed how her face lit up when she said his name, and wondered if Lisa had fallen under the same spell as the junior nurses. And if that was true she would be astounded because since the day Lisa’s husband had walked out she’d been bitterly averse to every man within a ten-mile radius of her.

***

Michael lifted the turkey out of the oven in the small development kitchen. He stuck a probe into the thickest part of the turkey breast and when the temperature reached over 78° C he knew it was well cooked. The aroma filled the kitchen, which had only a sink, two ovens and hobs and a row of cabinets above eye level. The smell of cooked turkey wafting down the corridor brought Tony hurrying along from the office into the kitchen.

‘
Mmm, smells great. Shall I ring Stella or do you want to?’ he asked mischievously.

Michael frowned and grumped, ‘You can. I’m not interested.’

Stella walked into the kitchen and looked around. She smiled. ‘Oh, my, this is small but perfectly formed, isn’t it?’

Tony agreed and Michael couldn’t stop himself smiling at her. When they’d first met in the factory she’d been in the obligatory white coat and mop cap but now dressed in a dark green trouser suit and a loose white blouse, he could appreciate her trim figure. Her hair was a mass of shiny copper curls and she wore large pink-framed glasses which accentuated her cute facial features.

Michael picked up a sharp knife and carved the turkey expertly while she chattered easily with Tony.

‘I can see you’ve done this before, Michael,’ she simpered looking at his strong arms and steady hand holding the knife.

He placed a thick slice of turkey and a good serving of stuffing onto a disposable plate and handed it to her. ‘Yeah, it’s something I do all year round so one could say I have had plenty of experience…’

He’d sounded quite stilted but meant it in a polite manner not wanting to encourage her. But when he heard Tony sniggering behind him he realised the connotation and fumed. He could feel his face flushing and sweat stood out along his shirt collar making him feel uncomfortable.

She took a mouthful, chewed, and then sighed sweetly. ‘Mmm, that’s a lovely flavour. I don’t think I’ve had fennel before but it’s something I’ll definitely try again. Have we used it in production before?’

While Tony began to explain that it would be a new ingredient and that the technical team would look into any significant challenges, Michael gazed at her animated face. He could tell she had a bubbly personality, which was refreshingly new in a team of staff that he’d worked alongside for years.

She nodded. ‘And when will this launch? I hear the factory is incredibly busy in the run up to Christmas.’

Michael smiled. ‘Yeah, we work flat out from the middle of November until late on Christmas Eve. Usually, by then most people have bought their turkeys and done their last big food shop before the day itself.’

Tony’s mobile rang and he excused himself and left the kitchen while Michael helped himself to a slice of turkey and rolled the stuffing around his mouth relishing the combination of flavours. He could see her gazing at his mouth and throat while he swallowed the meat which made him squirm and shuffle his leather shoes on the floor tiles making a squeaky sound.

‘If you’re always so busy I bet you hate Christmas?’ she asked quietly.

Unable to stop himself he grinned at her. ‘Oh, no. I don’t mind being busy – it’s my favourite time of year. I love Christmas, always have done. And I can’t see that changing. We’re very traditional at home with old-fashioned cards, a real tree and the same baubles are given an airing every year,’ he said imaging the scene and gazing sentimentally above her head. ‘We have the same decorations and lights, watch our favourite TV programmes, go to church and have turkey on Christmas Day of course, and then a joint of pork on Boxing Day.’

She glanced down at his left hand and stared at his wedding ring. ‘And does your wife love the same things every year too?’

For one split second he couldn’t grasp what she meant and then suddenly he remembered Davina mentioning a purple tree last year in John Lewis and how she thought it would fit in perfectly with the décor in the lounge. But she’d only been joking – hadn’t she?