Page 52 of A Perfect Devon Pub
She gave a half laugh. For a cocky, Aussie KP he was a sweet guy, always trying to make her feel good about herself. ‘I will do ... just not yet.’
Josh took hold of her arm and stopped her. ‘When, then? You only get one life, you know.’
She wasn’t about to admit it, but she knew when. In a few days, when she was a member of the CMS, and could get a job in any restaurant she liked. ‘Soon,’ she hedged.
‘Come on, Fiona. Isn’t it time to live the life you want, not the one someone else dreams for you?’
She gaped at him. ‘But being successfulismy dream.’
‘Is it? Seems to me like your dream is being a sommelier, and you’re already doing a great job of that,’ he said laughing. They walked in silence for a moment, the sound of the waves filling the space between them. ‘Can I ask you something that’s about wine, but not about wine?’ he asked easily. She took a breath. Was he going to ask her out again, despite what he’d said earlier?
‘Of course,’ she said, trying to keep her tone light.
‘This missing wine ... do you think someone has stolen it?’
She drew in a deep breath, exhaling slowly. ‘I’m afraid I do. Rose and I checked the cellar. It’s not been misplaced, and it’s worth too much for this to be a mistake. Why do you ask?’
‘I’m kind of nervous about being interviewed. Can I tell you why?’
Twenty-three
Fiona was the first person to be interviewed. Rose walked into the staffroom carrying a tray with two steaming mugs and a plate of biscuits, which Fiona thought was a kind way to create a relaxing atmosphere. The boss held the tray effortlessly, while closing the door. Fiona crossed her legs, uncrossed them, recrossed them, bounced her foot up and down ... it was tough projecting innocence when hiding a secret. She should have told Rose about her history with Ru the day he’d shown up.
Rose set the tray down, picked up a mug and took a sip before speaking. ‘I wanted to see you first because I know it wasn’t you. In fact,’ Rose shifted sideways, fishing something from her trouser pocket, ‘this is the keycode for the cellar door – it’s not practical me trying to find everything each evening. I trust you,’ she said, passing over a slip of paper. Tucking the scrap inside her apron, Fiona felt a rush of relief, and her shoulders loosened. She concentrated on Rose’s next words, ‘Don’t take this as me blaming you, I’m not, but you might have inadvertently given the idea to the culprit. Has anyone been quizzing you about wine?’
That one was easy to answer. ‘People are naturally curious when they discover what I do for a living.’
A stern look crossed her employer’s face. ‘Who?’
Fiona thought back. Kim, Trish, Josh, the bar staff. The list was endless. She sipped her own tea, wondering how to respond. She didn’t want suspicion to fall on Josh, not after what he’d told her on the beach.
Rose sat up. ‘You can tell me in confidence. Who?’
‘Everyone, except for Ivy and Ru for obvious reasons.’
Rose’s eyes narrowed. ‘Ru?’
Fiona could have screamed at her slip-up. In Devon no one shortened his name. With her heart beating faster, Fiona scrambled for an explanation, but her mind was blank. With no choice but to ignore it, she soldiered on, trying to keep her voice light. ‘Yes. He’s worked with lots of sommeliers.’
‘What do you think of Ruben?’ asked Rose, her eyes narrowing. ‘Why is he here? If he wanted to experiment with fish why not go and work in one of the famous fish restaurants in Padstow? Why rural north Devon?’
Fiona shifted in her seat, her mind racing for ways to shift the subject onto someone other than Ru. ‘Maybe that’s exactly why he’s here, to get away from other famous chefs?’
‘So, he can shine?’
That wasn’t Ru’s style. He wasn’t arrogant. When customers complimented the food, he praised the entire team. But defending his team spirit wasn’t as important as deflecting attention from him as a suspect. She took another gulp of tea. ‘Possibly.’
‘I’m not sure,’ muttered Rose, shaking her head. ‘I think there’s something suspicious about why he’s here, something that’s connected to London. Maybe something went wrong up there. George says he’s often preoccupied, as if he’s worried. What do you think?’
Fiona’s eyes flitted round the room, bouncing off pictures, then her raincoat as if searching for something to lock onto. Rose was perceptive, and Fiona was unsure how to respond. ‘I think he’s an excellent chef. Always calm under pressure, polite, professional ... treats the serving staff with respect.’
‘Yes, Kim is quite taken with him,’ said Rose, a crafty smile creasing her face. ‘They’d make a great couple. She’s a goodworker, Kim. The customers like her – very efficient and polite.’ Fiona kept her face impassive, as she remembered Rose scolding her about not pulling together with their small team.
‘George is adamant it’s no one in the kitchen, but those South African wines ...’ She pursed her lips. ‘It would be a bit odd to steal them unless you know exactly what you’re stealing, and how much it’s worth.’ She stood up, tapping a finger against her lip. ‘I’ll work it out, I never caught the thief in London, but I’ll catch this one.’
Rose tipped up her mug and swallowed the remnants, before returning it to the tray. It looked like the meeting was over. It was on the tip of Fiona’s tongue to ask about the London theft, but she didn’t want to prolong the interview.
‘See if Ruben can spare time to see me before he gets too busy, would you? And be a love ... take these empties with you.’
