Page 27 of Musical Games
Morag was eyeing the stove top as if Sam was cooking crystal meth and it was about to go critical. ‘I, er, if you need any food, I’m here, love. I, er, you, erm.’
‘I was just cooking brunch for Jamie. Is that okay?’
Morag turned to Jamie as if just discovering the kingpin behind the meth operation. He put the extinguisher down and held up his hands. ‘I told her you don’t trust anyone to use your kitchen.’
Morag smoothed down the outside of her skirt, her cheeks pink. She let out a nervous laugh. ‘I never said that, son.’ She turned to Sam. ‘It’s just he tried to cook his tea and it went wrong. I had to use the fire extinguisher. And he hurt himself very badly.’
‘Mum, I was ten! I burned some toast and baked beans, that’s all. And there isn’t even a scar.’
Morag put her hand to her heart as if the memory was the deepest scar of all.
Jamie tugged up the sleeve of his T-shirt. ‘Go on then, show me. Where is it?’
Sam followed Morag over, feigning interest in a scar she could already see no longer existed. His arms were mouth-watering. Maybe if she got a little closer, she could see if he smelled like his shower gel?
Morag patted her head. ‘Hang on, I need my glasses.’
Jamie lowered his arm and moved away. ‘See? There’s no reason why you can’t let us cook.’
Morag looked back at the stove. ‘Well, Sam seems to know what she’s doing. There’s no point in you doing it, son. It’s quicker for me to cook than show you how.’
Jamie rolled his eyes and went to a cupboard for a plate.
Morag dithered, appearing reluctant to leave the room and get back to the post office.
Sam turned the burners off, which seemed to reassure her.
Morag nodded. ‘Okay, then.’
Jamie lifted the fire extinguisher. ‘Do you want this? We’ve already got one in here.’
But his mother was already backing out of the room. ‘No, you keep it in here. Just in case, okay?’ She didn’t wait for a reply, but exited and closed the door behind her.
Sam caught Jamie’s eye and giggled as he raised his eyebrows. ‘Okay, I get it now.’ She dished up his food, thrilled as she watched him tucking in. She took off her pinny, feeling like she’d just been transported back to the fifties, and sat opposite him.
‘This is fantastic, thank you,’ he said. ‘No one has ever cooked for me, apart from my mum and my sister, and this is…’ He glanced at the closed door as if his mother might be listening. ‘Merely passable,’ he said loudly before lowering his voice to a whisper. ‘It’s the best, but if you tell anyone I said that, I’ll deny it to the grave.’
Sam preened.
‘Can I ask you something?’
She shrugged, suddenly nervous.
‘How did you know all that medical stuff? You’ve never played a doctor or a nurse in anything.’
How did he know?‘My family are doctors,’ she replied. ‘My dad is an orthopaedic surgeon, and my mum is a GP. My eldest sister, Esther, is a neurosurgeon and Anna is a GP.’
‘They’re all doctors?’
She nodded.
‘And your eldest sister is an actual brain surgeon?’
She nodded again.
‘So, no pressure on you growing up then,’ he said with a smile.
Did he understand? ‘Yeah, being a doctor is a piece of piss,’ she replied. ‘It’s basically a hobby. My parents were so relieved someone in the family finally got aproperjob. Acting is where career stability, longevity and pensions really lie.’
