Claire Gulliver #03 - Intrigue in Italics (6 page)

“Don’t worry; you’ll do fine. Everyone here is coming from a different background and with different skill levels. You’ll see they are prepared to teach us all something.” George nodded encouragingly.

Then Renee started talking to Fredrick and Helga in Italian with George adding a comment now and then. Rather than try to talk through their conversation to Marybeth, who didn’t seem to understand them any more than Millie did, she turned her attention to the rest of the people seated at the long table. She counted fifteen, nine men to the six women, here for the class not including the people who sat at the head table with Chef Martin. It turned out that Millie and Ruth were not the oldest. The Asian couple, who sat near Ruth, appeared to hold that honor. They were very small in stature and despite their age, their expressions were bright and alert. Millie was sure she would hear about them later from Ruth. There was one impossibly young man who looked as if he was in his teens and even wore braces on his teeth. Millie’s glance lingered on him, wondering if he really was as young as he looked, or if it was another case of her getting older so everyone else looked younger. And if he was so young, how did he get accepted for this class. But seeing his enthusiasm as he helped himself to the food being passed around family style, she realized he loved food. As a matter of fact, that’s what they all had in common. They were there because they loved food; fixing it, eating it, looking at it. She smiled to herself as she took a generous serving of the dish of gnocchi George passed to her. This was going to be fun. She was glad she came.

As Claire approached the busy corner on her way back to her hotel, she realized it was the spot where she thought she had seen Kristen that first day. A glance at her watch told her it was almost the same time of the day as that occasion. It struck her she might see that person again, so she hurried to the curb, anxious to watch a while. But when she looked to her left at the crush of bikes, mopeds and motorcycles sailing down the road, it seemed a hopeless task. Then she swiveled her head to look at the traffic which already passed. Way down the block she saw the back of a bicyclist with a mass of red hair. Could it have been her? She stood on tip-toe, stretching her neck as she looked for identifying details. It was near the end of the long lunch break, which was the custom here, so she assumed many of these people passed at the same time everyday returning to their business for the afternoon.

Then she remembered with a guilty start her mother’s admonishment to forget Kristen. She loved her mother dearly and she truly appreciated all that Millie had sacrificed to raise her. But her mother worried all the time. So much so that Claire had a tendency to hide things from her mother to prevent unnecessary worry. And while most of her life, Claire had listened to her mother’s warnings and remained cautious, after that incident where she almost lost her life, she had changed. That’s when she realized living carefully wouldn’t necessarily keep you safe. That’s when she decided her cautious life might be stifling her.

Then Uncle Bernie died and left her all his worldly possessions, including his musty out-dated bookstore in Bayside. That’s when Claire began to actually change her life. And she had refused to give up her new dream because of her mother’s fears. She had been firm. She had cashed in the retirement benefits she had already accrued at the library. She had invested everything she had, dreams, energy and money in Gulliver’s Travels Bookshop, and now it was paying her back. And while her mother argued strenuously against her plan, she now was proud of Claire’s accomplishment. But she still worried incessantly about her.

Well, Claire could understand why. Millie’s father, a career Army man, had died way before his time, one of the casualties of the Korean War. Millie’s mother had died while Millie was still in high school leaving her a total orphan. Danny Gulliver saved her. She married him at eighteen and had Claire a year later. They were a happy family until Danny was killed on duty.

Ruth once told Claire her mother always expected Danny to be killed. She knew it was inevitable when she married a police officer. But while he was alive Danny seemed to be able to keep Millie’s worries at bay. He took her and Claire on adventures, the beach, Disneyland and even camping in Yosemite. But after his death Millie just dried up, all the fun was drained out of her. She used all her energy raising Claire. Later, when Claire was older, Millie’s part time position became a full time job at Richman Cadillac. But all the time she worried as if her mantle of worry could protect those she loved.

Claire wished she could remember more about those times when her dad was alive. She had the pictures she used to look through. It was almost hard to believe the laughing, carefree woman was her mother. But other than the expression on her face she looked the same.

Claire had been surprised when her mother said she was going to retire and start a little catering business. It was a daring thing for her to do. But her mother loved to cook and didn’t get enough time to do it.

Her idea was to provide meals several days a week to a few working couples she knew, who didn’t have time to cook and were sick of takeout food and commercial frozen entrees. She was appreciative of the Richman brothers’ intent when they signed her up for the Italian Culinary Retreat, but alarmed at the thought of attending.

Claire grinned, as she remembered how she and Ruth had managed to wear her down. This was good for her!

Suddenly she realized she had been standing on this corner while several groups of pedestrians had crossed the street. She turned her attention back to the people on the street.

Yes, her mother’s last words had been an admonishment to forget about seeing Kristen. But she knew how cautious her mother was and her mother hadn’t seen the woman. Claire had! She remembered how the look of recognition had momentarily widened the woman’s eyes. She knew, as impossible as it seemed, it was Kristen.

The pedestrians moved off the curb once more, swarming toward the other side. Claire looked down the street as she crossed but the redheaded woman had long disappeared. She decided tomorrow she would come back. She would be here earlier and she would be prepared.

What looked like a very generous lunch break of two hours on the schedule just seemed to disappear, and by the time they were ready to leave the dining room they had to hurry to use the facilities before reporting to the kitchen. Here they were each issued a voluminous white apron and a chef hat, which looked like a drooping mushroom cap. Soon the kitchen was filled with chefs as they crowded around Chef Martin, Sal and Wanda.

The kitchen was monstrous. The part they occupied was used when large functions such as weddings or conferences were scheduled in addition to the normal restaurant activities. This week it would be used exclusively by the Retreat students. This way they would be part of the kitchen but well out of the way of the regular staff, who still had to prepare and serve the other guests of the hotel as well as the patrons of the restaurant.

“Wow, this makes my place look pretty shabby.” Marybeth whispered to Millie as she looked around with awe.

George nodded his agreement, “My kitchen isn’t even as big as this little section we’re in. But, it’s very efficient,” he added proudly.

Millie was also intimidated by the size, the equipment and the obvious skill of the kitchen staff going about their business on the far side of the room. She looked at Ruth, raising her eyebrows as if questioning what they thought they were doing here.

Ruth, her chef’s hat sliding over one eye, righted it and moved a little forward, the better to see and hear everything. Millie straightened her spine and followed. After all they paid the price and if they didn’t become experts they still expected to learn a lot from the next week. And Millie, at first reluctant to come, now determined she would make the most of this opportunity.

“Chef Martin,” Ruth was not shy, “why are our hats different than the people who work here?” She pointed to the tall, stovepipe hats on the heads of the people busy doing prep work.

“Chef’s hats, like nurses’ caps traditionally follow the mentor. Since you are in my class, you will all wear my traditional hat.” He smiled. “And, it clearly identifies us in the kitchen. Believe me, things sometimes get very hectic in here, and I wouldn’t want one of you to be Shanghaied and end up preparing vegetables instead of your class assignment. Please make sure you all wear your aprons, hats and name tags while attending classes and working in the kitchen. Also, for the first few days we’d all appreciate it if you wore your name tags to all functions. That will help us all learn everyone’s names.”

The students followed him from work station to work station as he described the equipment, the supplies and the workings of the kitchen. Everywhere he went, each way he turned they were all right behind him much as a gaggle of goslings follow their mother.

Finally back in their part of the kitchen Chef Martin discussed the pre-work assignment. Millie and Ruth were very proud they had located and priced everything on the list. Not everyone was as lucky.

Steven, who was from Chicago, complained that as he only arrived in Italy in time for lunch and still hadn’t even seen his room, he hadn’t been able to find a market. The markets in Chicago didn’t even know what some of the items on the list were.

“Well, each of you will be going to the market with me during the week and if any items on your list were not identified we’ll try to find them for you then.” He looked at Wanda. “Oops, Wanda’s telling me we’re running out of time, so I think we all have a break until cocktail time.” He looked at Steven. “Get yourself settled, have fun all of you and I’ll see you at seven-thirty. It’s our first night and Geno has asked his staff to prepare a very special meal. See you soon.” He waved and left the kitchen.

“Ooh, my feet are killing me,” Ruth complained as she limped out the door. “Tomorrow I’m wearing comfy shoes for sure.”

Millie followed her, pulling off her hat and fluffing her hair. No one but Ruth had worn heels but as she had insisted they were the only shoes that went with that particular dress, Millie had just shrugged. She wasn’t her mother. She had worn slacks, a cotton, short-sleeved sweater and sturdy, rubber soled shoes. She was dressed appropriately for spending a day in the kitchen or roaming the streets of Florence. She had always been a sensible person, but here, amongst these other colleagues she was feeling younger than her years. She admitted that agreeing to take this course was a good decision; it made her break out of her cautious life. She smiled to herself as they headed back to their room, remembering Chef Martin’s blue eyes. Maybe she would wear the more casual of the two dresses she brought. It would make it more festive, she told herself, even while she admitted her decision might be influenced by the fact that Chef Martin was much more attractive in person than she expected.

Claire wobbled down the street on the rented bicycle. She was very nervous about the traffic and the uneven streets, but mostly about being on a bike again. She thought once you knew how to ride a bike you always knew how to ride. However, this bicycle had a confusing number of gears and very touchy hand brakes, and somehow pedaling seemed harder than she remembered. When she arrived at the corner she was grateful to stop for a moment. With one foot on the curb holding the bike upright, she felt secure enough to look around. The street was clogged with the usual mid-day traffic all heading one way. She had arrived a full fifteen minutes earlier than yesterday, because she didn’t want to take a chance on missing Kristen. As it was, she sat watching the traffic move past, lulled into a trance and almost missed seeing the little old lady with her poodle. Today she was wearing a bright flowered dress and her dog had a big pink ribbon around its neck. Claire watched carefully as a thick cluster of people on bikes passed. Then she caught a glimpse of red hair through the riders and saw Kristen was passing on the far side of the street.

Her heart started thumping with excitement. This was it! Today she would catch up with the red haired woman and solve the mystery. She was certain her mother was right about one thing; when she spoke to the woman it would certainly determine if she was or was not her friend, Kristen. She pushed herself off the curb and into the crush of vehicles.

She was pedaling hard to catch up. Suddenly a bike cut right in front of her, racing to pass the two people ahead of her. She had to apply her brakes to avoid hitting it.

Too hard! The brakes squealed and the back end of her bike lurched to the left hitting another bike as her front wheel stopped dead. Then things happened fast. Claire and her bike flipped over, taking the bike next to her with them. Several bikes close behind were unable to avoid the growing disaster. Claire and her bike ended up near the bottom of a major pile-up.