Читать книгу Because Of You - Kristina O'Grady - Страница 14

Chapter 5

Beth yanked at the ragweed. The blasted thing wouldn’t come out, but the fight of taking back her garden was just what she needed to stem the aggression coursing her ever since Mark left.

Who did he think he was, showing up here, kissing her, holding her? She shook her head to clear the image and got back to work. It didn’t help that she could still feel his lips on hers, or his hands on her hips or taste his tongue in her mouth.

She yanked harder at the weed. It gave way with an audible pop and Beth fell onto her backside in the dirt.

She looked down the row of newly emerging corn that she’d already weeded. Satisfaction brought a smile to her lips. There was something about digging in the dirt that was good for the soul.

Another hour and she should be done this half of the garden. She got back up and dusted off her ass and grabbed the push-hoe. The weeds didn’t stand a chance now.

When she’d moved into the ‘Old House’, this garden had long ago grown in but she’d fixed the fence around it, turned it over and planted new vegetable seedlings. But the Old House hadn’t been used since her parents had first been married and the grass and wildflowers had a firm grip on the old garden. No matter how often she weeded out here, she always found long-forgotten weeds poking their heads through the newly turned dirt. Beth just hoped they wouldn’t choke her vegetables.

The sun was past the zenith when she next looked up. She felt dizzy and her back hurt from bending over for so long. She stamped her feet to get some feeling back in her knees. They were absolutely covered in dirt from her morning’s toil. But she felt good. While she was pulling weeds she’d sorted a few things out.

As much as it terrified her, she knew she needed to talk to Kelsey. She’d rehearsed her speech over and over in her mind until she was sure she’d got it just right. When she woke up this morning, she briefly thought about not telling Kelsey anything and just carrying on as though nothing had happened. But Beth knew herself; at some stage she would accidentally let it slip. Besides, she didn’t know what Mark might say to her either. It was better that she told Kelsey now.

After she sorted out Kelsey, she thought about her own life. Six months ago she was excited about opening the bed and breakfast and she’d even convinced herself it was what she wanted out of life. But it wasn’t. Not really.

Beth walked back to the house. It had been so exciting to spruce up the old place. Even though it hadn’t been used for decades, it had always been looked after and wasn’t too run down. Everyone had always assumed that Ben would end up living here one day, but after Rachel died he moved away and the ranch needed money so Beth convinced herself she wanted a bed and breakfast. So the Old House turned into Beth’s Country Home. And in the end it was because Beth had set up the website advertising the B&B that the ranch was able to climb out of debt.

Thank goodness Brian Hargrave had happened upon her website. Without the filming contract, Mom and Dad would have had to sell the ranch and Beth couldn’t imagine living anywhere else.

At the same time she now knew she also couldn’t imagine running a B&B for the rest of her life either. Before Rachel got sick and money wasn’t so tight and Beth thought dreams came true because she wanted them to, she’d wanted to be a chef.

Beth went straight to the bathroom when she got into the house and set to work trying to wash the dirt off her hands. It took a few scrubs of the brush and some elbow grease to get them clean. She then went to her favourite room in the whole house. Her kitchen. She absolutely loved being in here. The sun washed the wooden countertops in gold and the open white cupboards displayed all her crockery and glasses. The stainless steel of her gas hob and fridge sparkled in the sunlight. The butter-yellow walls and the bowl of fruit on the table welcomed guests to sit down and make their selves at home.

Beth poured herself an iced tea and sat down at the table. She still needed a shower to wash off the dirt but first she needed to rehydrate.

In Bassville there was a little café she’d fantasised owning ever since the cooking bug bit her. When she was a teenager she’d spent every available moment at the Cat’s Whiskers Café. She’d always wanted to work there but there was too much to do on the ranch after school and over summer holidays for her to have a part-time job. But that didn’t discourage her dream of owning it one day.

Rachel’s death did that.

After Rachel died, Beth felt guilty about the pleasure cooking gave her. She shouldn’t feel happy when her sister was dead. And yet, she couldn’t stop herself from cooking either. It was the only time during the long days after Rachel passed away that she was able to forget the pain. She felt guilty for that too.

Her mom had suggested she open up the Old House to visitors. Beth admitted that it was the idea of having someone to cook for that persuaded her to open the guest house.

And having Helga around and cooking for her every day was great. Never once since she arrived had Helga acted like an actress. Not that Beth knew any actresses and therefore didn’t know how they behaved. She supposed she was guilty of believing what the gossip magazines said. But Helga was lovely.

Speaking of Helga, Beth glanced at the clock on the wall. She had just enough time to take a quick shower before she started to think about making dinner. It was her favourite time of day when she could take a moment and sit down and decide what she would cook.

In the shower, inspiration struck. Back downstairs, freshly showered, Beth knelt down next to her sideboard, a gift from her grandmother, opened the door and reached all the way to the back of the bottom shelf. She smiled when her hands brushed the rough cover of her recipe folder. She pulled it out from behind the bottles of liquor and brushed the cobweb that clung to the corner. It was her secret stash of recipes she wanted to grace the menu of her own café one day.

While she was there, she grabbed a bottle of red wine from bottom shelf for good measure and poured herself a glass, leaving the bottle open on the table for when Helga got back from today’s set.

She sat at the table and, with reverence, opened the cover of the folder. The first page was filled with pictures she’d snipped out of magazines of the interiors of cafés and restaurants. She ran her fingers over the clippings. Some of them she no longer liked. She’d started the folder years ago and some of those places she’d so coveted were now really out of style. She grinned at the bright-orange walls of one of the cafes and she plucked at the corner of the picture but decided to keep it there as a reminder.

She turned the page.

Stuffed button mushrooms with blue cheese sauce was the first of the hors d’oeuvre. She slowly read the ingredients and in her mind’s eye prepared them for a restaurant full of customers. Her stomach growled. She shook her head and laughed. She didn’t need appetisers tonight.

She flipped further into the folder, past the starters, salads and luncheon dishes. Rare roast beef with fresh horseradish cream, buttermilk garlic mashed potatoes and steamed seasonal vegetables was the perfect thing for a trial run. Roast beef was the very first thing she had ever cooked. She could still remember putting it into the oven for the first time. She could make this dinner blindfolded. She’d make Yorkshire puddings too. Ben loved those and she was sure he’d be joining her and Helga for dinner a lot more since this weekend when they’d disappeared together. Beth was happy for them. Ben hadn’t had a lot of joy in his life the last couple of years and, by the sound of it, Helga was in need of happiness too.

She took a large drink from her glass, relishing the tartness of the wine as it bit into her palate. She had another sip, this time smaller and set to work getting all the ingredients together. She hated starting a recipe only to find that she didn’t have everything handy. It had the potential of ruining a dish if she had to stop to find something crucial to the outcome of the dish. After checking everything on her list, she was satisfied she had everything she needed.

She stood at the counter and looked out the window at her garden in the back. She loved that her sunflowers were starting to come up. They were her favourite thing out there and she could hardly wait until she could watch them follow the sun.

Her eyes shifted to the vegetables in freshly weeded rows next to the sunflowers. The corn had barely broken the surface of the dirt, the peas were still flowering and the tomatoes were still just greenery. The broccoli and cauliflower was no better and her carrots and beets wouldn’t be big enough yet either. She hated to admit that she had no fresh veggies in her garden yet. In a few weeks it would be a different story, but for now she’d have to resort to what she’d picked up from the grocery store on Friday.

She opened her onion box on the counter and grabbed two onions and a head of garlic. She rolled an onion across the countertop until the skin crackled and peeled it with a sharp knife and did the same to the other one. She quickly quartered them and put them in the bottom of a roasting dish. She wacked off the top of the garlic, put it in the corner of the dish and drizzled olive oil over it.

She pulled another head of garlic out of the onion box and pulled off six cloves. Flattening them against the cutting board with her knife, loosening the skin, she carefully peeled them before slicing them into slivers which she studded into the roast and put it on top of the onions.

She sprinkled salt and pepper over the meat and a small smile touched her lips as the familiar dinner stared back at her. Comfort food tonight.

It didn’t take her long to peel the potatoes and put them into a pot of water while waiting for the oven to heat. Once the roast was in the oven, Beth headed back outside to her patch of horseradish. The year Rachel died they had picked some out of the ditch on a trip to Saskatchewan and planted it into a pot in her back yard. That trip was the last time her sister had left her home town. It was always with a touch of sadness that she pulled out a long root.

She took the trowel and loosened the dirt around the root and pulled it free. The air filled with the spicy wasabi scent and fresh dirt. She tipped her face up to the sky again; her garden could sure do with some rain, but there wasn’t a cloud in the sky.

***

Beth’s phone rang as she was pouring buttermilk into the potatoes. She snuck a peek at the roast on the way to answer it. The aroma of the roasting meat filled the kitchen when she cracked open the door. Yum. It was looking good.

‘Hello,’ she said absentmindedly into the phone. She was still focused on her meal. She couldn’t wait to slice into that beef.

‘Beth?’ The soft voice on the other end of the line snapped her attention away from dinner.

‘Kelsey. Oh, hi. I was going to call you tonight,’ Beth said, sinking into the closest chair.

‘That’s okay, I’ve beat you to it. I wanted to apologise for yesterday. I was really raw from the night before and I kinda over-reacted. So, I’m sorry and I hope you can forgive me.’

It felt like a knife was twisting in Beth’s stomach. Kelsey was not the one who should be apologising. ‘No, Kels, it’s me who needs who needs to say sorry. I wasn’t completely honest with you yesterday and I really need to tell you something.’

Kelsey’s tinkling laugh came down the phone. ‘No, I think you were pretty honest in what you said to me. It got me thinking, and you’re right. I do try to please Mark all the time. I never stand up for what I believe in or fight for what I want. I never noticed that about myself before. Have I always done that?’

Beth sat at the table with her hand over her mouth. Oh God, she moaned. If she could take back yesterday she would.

‘Beth? Are you still there?’

The speech she’d prepared in the garden disappeared from her mind. She desperately tried to recall at least some of it.

‘Beth?’

‘I’m still here,’ she managed to force out. ‘You don’t need to apologise for anything at all, Kels.’

‘Yes I do,’ she said. ‘You were trying to help and all I did was snap at you and then run away like some spoiled brat. My behaviour all weekend has been horrible. I’ve done things I’m not proud of. And I’ve caused more trouble for someone who doesn’t deserve it.’

‘I think it’s safe to say that we’ve both done things this weekend we’re not proud of.’ That was sure the understatement of the year.

‘No, Beth, you don’t understand,’ Kelsey said. ‘I think I’ve ruined someone’s life. I’ve tried to take it back but now they are saying the story’s just too big. I just hope they change their minds.’

Kelsey sounded really worried but Beth was sure she was over-reacting. ‘Trust me, Kelsey, What you’ve done has been nowhere near as bad as what I’ve done. And I didn’t mean to do it,’ she rushed. She needed to get the words out before she chickened out. ‘It just sort of happened. Not that I did anything to stop it at the time. I was a willing participant. I just wish I hadn’t been so drunk…or hungover…or whatever I was. I’m so sorry Kelsey. It was an accident. A total, complete mistake.’

There was silence on the end of the phone for a moment and all Beth could hear was the sound of her own rapid breathing. She should be telling Kelsey all this in person rather than over the phone.

‘What is it you’ve done?’ Kelsey whispered. ‘Please tell me it’s not what I think it is.’

‘Kels…’

‘Please tell me you didn’t sleep with him,’ Kelsey’s voice was so quiet Beth could barely hear her.

‘I’m so sorry, Kelsey, it was an accident.’

‘An accident?!’ Her voice came thundering down the phone. ‘Crashing a car is an accident. Slipping over on ice is an accident. But how in the hell is having sex with my boyfriend an accident?’

‘But he’s no longer your boyfriend, Kelsey. You guys broke up weeks ago.’ Beth regretted her words even before she was done speaking them.

‘You are such a bitch, Beth. I hope you rot in Hell.’ Kelsey slammed the phone down so hard Beth’s ear rang in protest.

Great. Not only could she not have Mark; she felt way too guilty to go down that road, she’d now also ruined her longest friendship. If she was honest with herself, there was no way she could expect Kelsey to ever forgive her for what she did. If the shoe was on the other foot, Beth knew she would have reacted much the same way.

She looked around her kitchen. She loved this house. She’d made it into her home, and she couldn’t imagine living anywhere but on the ranch.

But she knew staying in Bassville would be torture for not only herself, but for Mark and Kelsey too. The town was so small there was no way they could avoid each other for long. Besides, they all had the same friends. She couldn’t expect them to pick her over Kelsey. She was the one in the wrong. And, because she was Kelsey’s friend, they’d blame her for the mistake more so than Mark. He was, after all, just a man, and therefore expected to behave like an ass. But she was one of the sisterhood. She should’ve known better. She was lower than low. She was a man stealer.

‘Beth?’

She could hear Helga calling her but she didn’t move from the chair.

‘What’s burning?’ Helga asked, walked into the kitchen. ‘Beth, what’s in the oven?’

‘What?’ Beth looked up distractedly, ‘Hmmm?’

‘There’s smoke coming out of the oven.’ Helga pointed to the oven where smoke was seeping out from around the door.

‘Oh My God!’ She jumped up, knocking over her chair and ran to the oven and opened the door. Smoke billowed out. Sitting in the middle of the rack was her roast beef, totally shrivelled up and ruined. Instead of being the juicy piece of meat she was hoping for she was looking at a lump of charcoal. She dumped it onto the counter and looked at the blackened mess.

It was the last straw. Tears she’d been holding back since she’d got off the phone leaked out her eyes and coursed down her cheeks, dripping onto the hot glass of the open oven door.

Helga reached around her to shut the oven door and turned it off. She gave Beth a hug and patted her on the back. ‘Oh, Beth, it’s okay. I’ll make us some sandwiches. It’s no big deal. Here, sit down.’ Helga led her over to the table and gently pushed her toward the chair she’d been sitting in moments before.

Beth sat down hard on the chair, jarring herself back to reality. Her menu folder sat open on the table. She slammed it shut, got up and shoved it unceremoniously into the back of the cupboard where it belonged.

At the back, out of sight.

She should just throw the damn thing out. She couldn’t even manage to cook something as basic as roast beef, mashed potatoes and damn vegetables! She wasn’t fit to be a chef. She wasn’t good enough and she never would be.

She swiped angrily at the tears still pouring from her eyes. Suck it up, Beth, you’re just not good enough. It was time to face facts. She was someone who loved cooking but she could never be a proper cook.

She sat back down at the table, filled her wine glass to the brim and took a big drink. Is this what her life came to? A glorified maid? She looked at Helga, who was cleaning up the mess she’d made and for the first time since meeting her, she resented her presence. She just wanted to throw Helga out. And that frightened her. Who had she become? Helga was lovely. Here she was, washing the dishes and cleaning up the evidence of Beth’s fuck-up.

She downed the rest of her wine and refilled her glass. ‘Helga, can you get my tablet for me, please?’

Helga turned from the full sink, ‘Sure thing, honey.’ She dried her dripping hands and left the room to find it.

While she was gone, Beth laid her head down on the table and closed her aching eyes. They were so raw from crying they felt like she had broken glass as lids.

‘Here it is, Beth, oh!’ Helga said as she rushed back into the room. ‘Are you sleeping?’ she whispered as she crept closer.

‘No,’ Beth moaned, rocking her head back and forth on her folded arms. ‘I just wish I was dead.’

‘Oh, Beth, it’s not that bad, I swear.’ Helga slid into the chair next to her and patted her arm.

‘Helga,’ Beth croaked.

‘Yes?’

‘Please go away. I’m s…sorry, but I…I c…can’t…’

Beth felt Helga rise from her chair. ‘Sure,’ she said quietly, ‘I’ll be in my room if you need me. Goodnight, Beth.’

Beth waited until she heard the steps creaking as Helga went up to her room before she found the strength to open her eyes and lifted her head. Her tablet was there beside her on the table.

Beth dragged it closer to her and flipped the cover open. She typed Culinary Schools Canada into the search engine.

Pacific Institute of Culinary Arts jumped out at her and she clicked through to their website. It was gorgeous, but somehow that just made her feel even worse. She read through all the information she could find about the professional programs. Six months of pure cooking pleasure. And then she clicked into the fees. Holy Shit!

Eighteen thousand dollars! She slumped further into her chair, disappointment washing over her. There was no way she could afford that. No way at all. Not to mention the extra charges of twenty five hundred for uniform, toolkit, textbooks and registration, let alone accommodation. It was not possible.

She sat there for a long time thinking about how she could come up with that kind of money. The money she made from the guest house was put back into the ranch. Since the film company rented the land, the ranch was doing better financially, but it wasn’t until the final payment came through that they would really be out of the woods. And as good friends that she and Helga had become, she couldn’t ask her for that kind of money. But how else was she supposed to gain experience?

She glanced the remains of her dinner on the counter.

Obviously much-needed experience.

Except…maybe she could volunteer with the catering company looking after the film crew. She’d met them when she brought the German chocolate cake in three weeks ago. The lady in charge seemed really nice, even if the other chef was slightly standoffish.

She got up from the table and poured the rest of her wine down the sink. She needed to be ready for tomorrow.