Page 51 of The Missing Ingredient

Not surprisingly, Jeanette stood in shocked silence, the blood draining from her face. Eventually she shook her head and folded her arms.

“Tom,” said Marcus, a little louder this time. People in the waiting room had begun to look over uncomfortably. Even the attendant at the desk appeared to be deciding whether to call someone to intervene. “Reel it in. Jeanette’s not to blame here. Katie had a bad asthma attack. It could have happened anywhere, at any time.”

“Forty-five minutes I leave her alone,” said Tom, his voice still raised, not letting up. “Less than an hour.”

Marcus had heard enough.

“You want to blame someone, Tom?” he said assertively, placing himself right in front of Tom until the man had to look him in the eyes. “You want to talk about negligence? How about you start with the father.”

“Get out of my face, Marcus.”

“No, I will not. Not this time. You’re not growling your way out of this one. Everyone is doing their level best to help you out, sacrificing their time to make your life just that little bit easier. And this is the thanks Jeanette gets?”

“I’m warning you.”

“You left your daughter, who has a known history of breathing disorders, in the care of someone who is clearly not a medical professional, without giving that person any guidelines or procedures to follow, any numbers to call, any clue of what to do in case of an emergency. You want to blame someone, Tom Bradford? Then why don’t you start with yourself.”

“That’s my family in there, Marcus, my remaining family. They’re all I have left in the world. What does it take for people to understand that?” he said, his eyes welling up.

Tom’s sudden emotion stopped the wordsWhat about me? Am I not part of your family?issuing from Marcus’s mouth. While the three of them stood there dazed, Moira shuffled up, a clipboard in one hand. She appeared a little flustered and oblivious of the scene that had unfolded only moments earlier.

“Tom, Katie’s woken up. The doctor’s with her. She’s a little shaken up and wants to see you straightaway. Marcus, do you want to—what’s happened?”

And just like that, Moira sensed the change in atmosphere. Without a glance or another word to the others, Tom sidestepped her and rushed off toward the ICU.

“Nothing, Moira. Go with Tom. I’ll drive Jeanette home.”

“But Katie’ll want to see you too, Marcus.”

Marcus shook his head. “Tomorrow. I’ll drop by tomorrow. Once she’s had a good night’s sleep. She needs her family right now. Go be with her. I’ll go pick up Charlotte.”

But Moira had not finished and turned to Marcus. “Did Tom start something?”

“No, Moira. Tom didn’t start anything. Quite the opposite, actually,” said Marcus, trying for a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “I’ll call you later to find out how Katie’s doing. Come on, Jeanette. Let’s go.”

Enough.

Chapter Seventeen

RAINBOWVoices—a radio station targeted at LGBTQ listeners across the Greater London area—had invited Marcus to join a nighttime chat show a week before Christmas with the ever popular Dr. Billie Rix. Tina had pushed him to do at least three or four of the major commercial stations in London to promote his newly published cookbook. Even though he grumbled because they were live shows and usually meant early mornings or late evenings, he actually enjoyed the anonymity of radio. Rainbow Voices felt like coming home.

On Marcus and Tina’s arrival in the cramped studio, sitting outside the fishbowl watching Dr. Rix’s animated performance, one of the producers briefed them on the list of questions Marcus might be asked. Phone-ins were a little harder to regulate, but the woman assured Marcus that any calls would be vetted before callers were allowed airtime. Marcus had complete confidence. Being a gay radio station, they probably had their fair share of hate calls. Tina, as always, had prepared well ahead with the station and had already modified some of the content and questions to ensure Marcus had the opportunity to publicize the book and his new ventures.

While music played between sections and then the on-the-hour news was broadcast, Marcus met Dr. Billie Rix—a beautiful black woman in her early thirties. Marcus took a shine to her straightaway. Down-to-earth and authentic, Tina had called her, and she had been spot-on. After going through a few of the protocols with him quickly and efficiently, she got straight down to business on-air.

“You’re listening to Rainbow Voices, 92.8 FM, and this isEvening Downloadwith Dr. Billie Rix. With me in the studio tonight I have the founder and head chef of the Old Country restaurants, Marcus Vine. Marcus received recognition from Stonewall in last year’s honors as one of the top twenty most influential gay businesspeople in the UK. His new book,Britain’s Got Taste, celebrates British cuisine across the centuries. Marcus, tell us the inspiration behind this publication.”

“Simple really, Doctor—err—Rix. British cooking has had a bad rap for far too long, in my humble opinion. And most of that is unjustified. Ask anyone what they consider to be classic British dishes and the list won’t be long. Fish and chips, Irish stew, Welsh rarebit, and haggis. Where’s the mention of crempog, rumbledethumps, cruibini, or good old-fashioned battalia pie, not to mention a whole encyclopedia of local seafood dishes? We are an island nation of fishermen, after all. So I decided to bring these classic dishes, and many more, up-to-date and compiled the recipes in my book. But, of course, if you’d rather not go to all the trouble of recreating them yourself, they’re available in any of my restaurants.”

Marcus had used the opening lots of times before, one that usually grabbed the attention of listeners. Somebody was bound to ask him about one of the more obscure dishes he had mentioned.

“And if listeners still prefer more popular British dishes?”

“We have variations on those. One of our most popular appetizers is the mini Yorkshire pudding filled with a sliver of sirloin and homemade horseradish. We’ve simply made them less about bulk and more about taste.”

“Some critics accuse you of bending the rules, saying your influences are not restricted to the British Isles. That ingredients used in your recipes are not strictly indigenous.”

Aha, thought Marcus. So Dr. BR was not going to give him an easy ride. Fortunately Marcus had heard this kind of objection voiced—usually by competing chefs—many times before.

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