‘Good morning, Porthmellowww!’
Gabe strode onto the stage with a flourish, and began walking up and down the set, making sure he caught the eye of the entire audience. The smile was fixed on his face, but he felt weird. He’d done this before, many times at other festivals and on live TV, but this was Porthmellow, with all its memories.
He caught Sam’s eye, didn’t dare linger and took his place behind the kitchen counter. He had a small team of tech guys and a stage crew waiting behind the scenes, but for the next hour he was on his own.
‘It’s great to be back in my hometown.’
‘You took your bloody time about it!’
The shout came from a guy about Gabe’s own age whose face was vaguely familiar. However, the rest of him wasn’t. He had a huge beer gut and long greasy hair. Then it dawned on Gabe that the guy was one of the ‘lads’ who used to wind him up mercilessly in the chip shop. The heckler’s partner grabbed his arm and shh-ed him.
Deciding to ignore his critic, Gabe carried on with his spiel, joking and laughing as he warmed the audience up, talking about being back ‘home’, about the dishes he was going to create and mentioning jokily that they were featured in his new cookbook.
This part was always the hardest. You had to get a feel for the temperature of the audience and the mood they were in. At least he was on after noon, when a few beers and the odd glass of wine had been consumed.
But there was a definite buzz. The dry weather helped and there were a few familiar faces throwing out the odd comment that he could banter with.
‘Right. Let’s get cooking,’ he said and slipped behind the counter. Immediately he was into his stride, working with the ingredients, making the fresh hake dish he was preparing seem so easy that anyone could try it. Which was what he wanted the audience to think. No point making something they couldn’t relate to and didn’t want to eat.
He dropped butter in a frying pan and it sizzled instantly. Two fillets of hake dusted in herby flour went in next, fresh off a boat that morning. While they were browning, Gabe took a knife and started to chop fresh spring onion and carrot into tiny matchsticks. The buttery hake smelled glorious and he could imagine mouths watering in front of him. He kept up the banter as he chopped at lightning speed to laughter from the audience.
He glanced up, took another spring onion, laid it on the chopping board and raised his knife when he spotted Ryan at the back of the crowd.
‘Shit!’
His heart pounded. The audience let out a collective gasp. Gabe glanced down. Red liquid oozed onto the plastic board around the scallion. Cuts happened from time to time and usually looked worse than they were, but here in public, with blood oozing from his thumb over the food, it must seem like a horror movie.
Gabe was aware of a pulse of pain in his hand and put the knife down. ‘Sorry for the language. My top tip for this dish, be careful not to chop your fingers off,’ he said, trying to laugh off the mishap while he scanned the crowd for Ryan again, expecting Sam to see him too.
As people murmured and muttered ‘yeughh’, Gabe grabbed some paper towels and pressed them to his injured thumb. It was probably a shallow cut but he couldn’t continue without getting it cleaned. There was no sign of Ryan but that didn’t mean he wasn’t there. Gabe was one hundred per cent certain he’d seen him at the back, smiling.
Gabe spotted the St John Ambulance team at the side of the stage, already poised to come on and help him.
He forced a smile to his face, even though he was all over the place. ‘Occupational hazard. Sorry, guys, I’ll have to get a plaster on it and restart the recipe as soon as I can. Back soon. If anyone wants to clean up and restock with fresh ingredients, I’d be grateful.’
Seconds later, Sam walked onto the stage, smiling. She obviously hadn’t seen Ryan – but how long would it be before she did notice him? He couldn’t be far away. ‘Hey. Knew you couldn’t be trusted. Why don’t you let a professional step in?’ she asked him.
Laughter and a few cheers rang out as Gabe pulled his headset off.
‘Are you OK?’ she murmured as they walked to the small backstage area. The audience were talking, and the buzz of voices grew louder.
Gabe’s heart was in his mouth, still fearing Ryan would appear again at any moment. ‘I’m fine, just caught my thumb. Like I say, occupational hazard.’
Sam pulled a face. ‘Tell me about it. Why don’t you get yourself sorted out while I help clean up and lay out fresh ingredients.’
‘You must be busy. There’s no need—’
She smiled at him, shaking her head in mock frustration yet her eyes told a different story. ‘Shut up and get your hand seen to, Mathias. That’s an order from your festival director.’
Gabe saluted with his good hand and had no choice but to submit to the medics’ attentions while Sam cleared away the prep area with the help of one of the volunteers. The medics cleaned his thumb and the blood eventually stopped flowing. The buzz of chatter rose from the audience, some of whom were standing up and stretching. A couple of gaps had appeared but there was no sign of Ryan, at least from what Gabe could see. Why had the idiot decided to turn up at the festival right at this moment?
‘Hmm. I don’t think it needs stitching.’ The medic prodded his hand with a gloved finger.
Gabe squashed down a wince. ‘I don’t have time for that anyway.’
The medic tutted. ‘You’d have no choice if it was any deeper. I’ll patch you up for now but you’ll have to be careful it doesn’t get infected.’
She put a dressing on and taped it up. Finally, Gabe was allowed to go. It seemed a ridiculously large bandage for a small nick, but it was in the crease of a knuckle and hard to stem. It was going to be difficult to continue the demonstration.
Sam came over. ‘How is it?’
‘The cut will heal, but they’ve bandaged me up like a mummy.’ He waggled his hand.
Sam screwed up her nose. ‘Does it hurt?’
‘Nah. I’ve had far worse, but it’s going to be tricky to prep and cook now. Plus, who wants to watch a chef with a bandage preparing food?’
Sam frowned. ‘Um … Why don’t you let me help?’
Gabe hesitated. Under any other circumstances he’d love to have Sam by his side but not with Ryan lurking, having her in front of the audience, facing them, staring into the faces. He was scared that she’d find out why Ryan was there while they were in the middle of the demonstration. Gabe needed to get to him first so he could find out why he’d turned up at all.
She obviously took his hesitation for lack of confidence in her. ‘It’s not my thing. I’ve no experience. I can’t do the banter and I won’t do it how you do, but people have come to see you and I know the recipe after you talked to me about it, and so why not?’
Gabe’s heart thumped. She was right, it was the perfect solution and how could he say no?
‘Are you sure?’
‘I wouldn’t have suggested it if not. Can you park your massive cheffy ego and get out there on stage?’
‘Well, as you’ve put it so nicely.’ He flashed her a smile. ‘Come on, let’s rock the house.’
A few minutes later, after the fastest briefing ever, they both walked back on stage together to loud applause. Gabe scanned the faces, but there was no sign of Ryan.
‘So, ladies and gentlemen. Thank you for your patience. The fantastic St John Ambulance volunteers have patched me up and I still have all my fingers.’
There were groans of horror and laughter from the audience.
‘However, it’s going to tricky to do the prep with a bandaged hand so a brilliant chef who some of you know from Stargazey Pie has generously offered to help me out. Ladies and gentlemen, please give a big hand – no pun intended – to my impromptu assistant for the session, Porthmellow’s own, Samphire Lovell!’
The cheers were way louder than they had been when he’d been introduced on his own. There were a few calls from locals, but everyone seemed to relax, ready to enjoy the double act.
Sam took a little bow and held up a veg parer. ‘Thanks, Gabe, but let’s get one thing straight.’ She brandished the knife. ‘As you can’t be trusted with sharp objects, I think it’s better if you’re my assistant.’
The audience laughed.
‘I’m in no position to argue with that.’ He gave a little bow. ‘So what do you want me to do, chef?’
Gabe forced himself to smile as he fetched some herbs from the end of the counter. It wasn’t easy with his gammy hand. At least the audience was happy but he was bricking it. At any moment he expected Sam to freeze midway through chopping veg, and run from the stage in pursuit of her brother.
Damn you, Ryan. Damn himself for not coming clean years ago, for being persuaded that protecting Sam and helping Ryan was the right thing to do. Possibly forgivable when he was young, but not over the years when maturity and experience should have made him know better.
Considering the circumstances, Sam was making a fantastic job of the dish and even seemed to be enjoying herself. She was a natural in front of the audience, and their banter with each other drew laughter. In fact, he was far more entertaining with her than on his own, and it was much more fun.
Or, at least, it should have been.
They finished the dish and invited a couple of audience members up on stage to taste it with them. The delighted duo, who Gabe recognised as a couple of ‘super fans’, sat around the counter, shyly tucking into the dishes. The MC asked everyone to thank Gabe and especially Sam, and the applause and cheers rang out.
That was it. Over. Smiling and chattering, some of the audience picked up their bags and left the theatre for a break, while others waited for the next chef to come on. Gabe had a moment of panic when he thought he saw Ryan sitting on the bench seats, but it turned out to be a lookalike scrolling through his phone. He was getting paranoid now. Maybe it hadn’t even been Ryan earlier … he had promised to keep away. No, it was clutching at straws to think it hadn’t been him.
Gabe and Sam went into the area behind the stage that acted as a green room for the performers. One of the tech guys handed them a glass bottle of water each. Sam unscrewed the cap for Gabe before opening her own.
‘Thanks for stepping in.’ He grimaced at his bandage. ‘I’m due at a book signing in twenty minutes.’ He waggled his hand. ‘Lucky I’m left handed, eh?’
Sam jigged around, grinning. Gabe knew the feeling: she was high on the adrenaline, and the relief it was over and had gone well.
‘I can’t believe I’m saying this but I actually enjoyed it. I was terrified but once we got started, I have to admit it was fun.’
‘You were great,’ Gabe told her.
‘Aww. You don’t have to be kind. I know I stammered a bit and my hands were shaking so much at the start. I was terrified I’d drop a pan, set fire to the set, or the dish would be a disaster.’
‘No, it was much more fun with you, and anyway,’ he grinned, ‘I never pick stuff that can turn out to be a disaster.’
She sipped her water and then became serious. ‘I was a little bit worried about you before you hurt your hand. You seemed to have a … moment when you weren’t with us?’
That moment came back to him now and he swallowed hard. ‘Yeah. Stage fright. I always have a few nerves and you’ve no business being on stage if you don’t, but it’s not normally an issue. Today was … a bigger thing than I’d anticipated. I was suddenly looking out over all those people, some of them I’d known for years. Being back here after all this time is strange and it hit me.’
‘I thought that’s what might have happened. It’s only natural.’ She smirked. ‘I liked your moment. It shows the great Gabe Mathias is only human like the rest of us.’
‘Oh, I’m human all right,’ he said bitterly. ‘But you already knew that.’
‘We all are.’ She squeezed his good hand. ‘It’s OK. You are back and no one threw a brick at you. You survived. So cheer up. You’ve still got your fingers.’ She glanced at her watch. ‘Eeek. I should be in the Institute to check on the announcer. See you later this afternoon for the next session?’
Gabe groaned. ‘Argh. I’d forgotten there’s another one to do this afternoon.’
‘There’s tomorrow too, if your hand hasn’t recovered.’
‘You won’t have time to help with all of them.’
She beamed. ‘What? After my taste of fame, you try to stop me.’
‘Now my lovers, get yourselves over to the festival marquee where the lovely Gabe Mathias will be signing copies of his new book, Gabe’s Mediterranean Odyssey.’ Evie’s voice purred over the tannoy. ‘You don’t want to miss the chance to be up close and personal with the Greek god of cooking, do you? The gorgeous Gabe has hurt his hand and deserves a great big hug. And if I wasn’t stuck on duty at Festival HQ, I’d give him one myself.’
Sam groaned. ‘Oh no. Now she’s gone too far!’
Sam scurried off to the Institute while Gabe was escorted to the marquee by one of the stewards. He’d have to pray that Ryan had made himself scarce until he could call him and tell him to keep out of the way.
It was growing dark when Gabe got home, though the festival was still going on. He’d left after watching one of the bands with Sam, Zennor and Ben and he could still hear the music from the marquee at Clifftop House.
What a day. He was totally knackered. Since their double act at the Chef’s Theatre, he hadn’t been able to talk to Sam properly again. In the end she’d been too busy to help him for his second afternoon session so one of the local chefs had stepped in. Their paths had crossed on and off during the day, but Gabe was naturally not her priority. He’d been a cat on a hot tin roof, expecting Ryan to materialise at any moment, like the creature from the black lagoon, right in front of Sam.
Gabe had stuck close to her at the festival concert, but thankfully, Ryan had kept clear. Her brother’s nerve in turning up at the Chef’s Theatre still amazed him. What was he playing at? The situation couldn’t continue.
Which was why Gabe had called him and why he was wearing out the expensive rug right now, waiting for Ryan to arrive up at Clifftop House. With Sam now back at her cottage, Gabe was pretty sure they could meet undisturbed. Even so, he’d asked Ryan to use the cliff path to avoid passing the Wavecrest.
Just as Gabe was beginning to think Ryan wouldn’t turn up, the intercom buzzed and Gabe answered it via his phone. ‘Hello, mate,’ a voice said through the speaker. ‘It’s me. Ryan.’
Gabe hesitated a moment before replying. ‘You’d better come in.’
Seconds later, he opened the door to a man who had changed the lives of so many people in Porthmellow all those years ago.
He hadn’t seen Ryan close up in the flesh for nearly a year. Since then, he’d cultivated a beard any Shoreditch hipster would be proud of, but Gabe didn’t hold it against him. He looked fitter and healthier than Gabe had seen him for a long time. He had Sam’s hazel eyes and slight build. Gabe vowed to keep a lid on his anger with Ryan, whatever the provocation.
‘Thanks for seeing me.’ Ryan looked around him wide-eyed. ‘Wow. I always wondered what this old pile was like inside. Impressive. You’ve fallen on your feet.’
‘I’m only renting it. The owner did it up.’ He led the way into the sitting room. Ryan crossed immediately to the window and looked outside. Gabe had left the balcony door open now the weather had improved.
Gabe stood behind him, arms folded. ‘Why did you come back to Porthmellow without warning me?’
Ryan scuffed the rug with his trainer and took his time before answering. ‘Probably because I knew you wouldn’t like it.’
‘Did you come back because I was here?’
‘Yeah. Partly. Bit of a coincidence in some ways though.’
‘I don’t believe in coincidences.’
Ryan nodded. ‘I should have warned you. I’d heard you were at the festival.’
‘Ryan. Everyone heard I was at the festival.’
‘Yeah and I – me and my girlfriend – had been thinking of making a move down here anyway. You know that addiction rehab charity I work for? Well, they’re opening a new centre near Truro and need a counsellor so I applied and got the job. Tilly’s managed to get a post as a teaching assistant down here, starting in September.’
Gabe fought the temptation to swear. Ryan seemed to have everything worked out. ‘Does this mean you’re moving back permanently?’
‘Might do. We’ve found a cottage to rent in Roche while we decide. Tilly loves it, and her kids love it. They’re great lads. I’ve missed Cornwall.’
‘But Sam doesn’t know,’ said Gabe, anger with Ryan bubbling beneath the relief that he was still keeping his life on track. ‘Unless you’ve managed to tell her in the past hour.’
‘I haven’t told her. I was testing out the water.’
‘By hanging around the festival. Jesus, Ryan, why did you take a big risk like that? She might have seen you.’
‘I’ve been careful. I’d no idea she’d walk on stage with you and we’ve been through it before, Gabe. I was in a mess for years when I got out. I’d caused enough trouble and seeing her and Zennor again would have meant coming clean about everything. For both of us. But …’ He paused and sat down on the leather sofa. ‘I think it’s time. I can’t do it unless you agree. I presume you and her – well, it’s all on again?’ He grinned. ‘Despite me.’
Gabe swallowed an expletive. ‘Whatever you think is on again, you’re wrong. Sam still hasn’t forgiven me for turning you in, let alone for the other stuff you had planned. She’s come to terms with it to a degree and she and I – well, let’s say it’s early days between us. Very early days and I don’t want that jeopardised in any way.’
‘So you don’t want me to tell her I’m back in Cornwall?’
Gabe groaned. ‘Yes, I do.’ He walked to the window, unable to look at Ryan. ‘I do want you to, but not today or tomorrow. Not yet. Shit. She’s coming round tomorrow night after the festival ends.’
‘Shall we tell her then?’
‘I don’t know. Maybe. Hell. Yes, I suppose so.’
‘There’s never gonna be a good time, mate, if you don’t mind me saying. I have to be back for a meeting at the new centre on Monday so, you know, if we’re going to do it, then we should just get it over with and take the fallout.’
Gabe put his head in his hands. ‘Remind me again why I ever agreed to keep your secret from Sam? Why I carried on doing this and helping you?’
Ryan hesitated, shrugged and then said, ‘I dunno, mate, but probably because you love her …’ He hesitated. ‘How do you think she’ll react?’
‘I don’t know,’ said Gabe, his stomach stirring unpleasantly. ‘But it’s not going to be pretty.’