Christmas at the Log Fire Cabin: A heart-warming and feel-good read. Catherine Ferguson

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      ‘So do you think I could actually run a successful catering business?’

      Harrison stares down at the floor, an intense look on his face. He’s obviously considering the idea very carefully indeed, and my heart lifts. It’s so lovely having Harrison on my side, backing me in everything I do.

      ‘I honestly think I could do it, you know?’ With Harrison’s support, I really feel I can. ‘I mean, obviously I couldn’t give up work straight away. I’d have to build up the business slowly, then—’

      ‘There’s a snag in this carpet. Look.’ He points, still staring down, clearly not having heard a word I was saying. ‘I thought I was seeing things for a minute. I think we’ll go for quality over price next time.’ He looks up and smiles. ‘You were saying, Puss?’

      ‘The catering business,’ I repeat, a touch frostily. ‘Do you think I could do it?’

      He pulls me closer and nuzzles my neck. ‘Oh, there’ll be plenty more chances to show off your talent for cooking, don’t you worry about that. Mum’s coming over from Spain at Easter, remember? She’ll be thoroughly impressed. As long as you avoid sprouts and beans of all varieties.’ He shrugs. ‘Flatulence. Cabbage is okay, though. As long as it’s red.’ Absently, he massages my waist while keeping one eye on the TV.

      I pull away and arrange myself so that I can look at him in the eye. ‘The thing is, Harrison, that’s not really the point.’ He turns in surprise at the unusual sharpness of my tone, and I smile to show I’m not really cross with him. ‘I don’t want to “show off” my cooking. I want to explore the possibility of turning cooking into a business.’ I’m surprising myself here, never mind Harrison, but it suddenly seems really important that I convince him I’m seriously considering Erin’s idea.

      ‘The tutor at the course said I could do it, and I think he might be right. I’ve got a little money saved up, so it’s not as if I wouldn’t be able to pay my way …’

      He nods slowly, and I wait on tenterhooks, subconsciously preparing myself for the put-down.

       She’s far too timid. She’ll never amount to anything.

      ‘You know what, Puss? It’s time.’

      I look at him quizzically.

      He smiles. ‘It’s time you gave up your job at the hotel.’

      There’s a beat of silence.

      ‘Sorry?’ I must have misheard him.

      ‘Give up your job,’ he repeats, taking my hand. ‘They obviously don’t appreciate you. I was going to suggest it, actually.’

      I stare at him in astonishment. ‘You were?’

      ‘Yes.’ He smiles and pulls me towards him again, and I melt into his kiss, my head reeling happily. I should have known my lovely, caring boyfriend would be one step ahead of me. My brain is racing. What a difference a day makes! Me, planning a possible business? Perhaps Mimi Blenkinsop has actually done me a favour.

      ‘We could continue this upstairs,’ I suggest coyly.

      He frowns at his watch.

      ‘You’ve got a full twenty minutes before the news comes on,’ I point out.

      He smiles sheepishly. ‘You know me too well.’

      ‘News junkie! Honestly, I swear you’d get the shakes if you ever missed the late bulletin.’ I smile impishly and start tickling him.

      I can usually tease him out of his serious moods, and tickling is very good for that. There’s a particular spot on Harrison’s side that’s guaranteed to render him utterly helpless, like right now. It makes me giggle to see him so vulnerable. It’s quite sexy, actually, despite the peculiar brays of laughter that my tickling produces, which make him sound like a donkey gasping for breath.

      We end up in bed, and it’s lovely. I even help him when he puts the second condom on over the first. (Harrison believes firmly that the arrival of children should be scrupulously timetabled, just like everything else in life. And until babies are on the agenda, why take a risk when it’s well documented that condoms can tear?)

      As he takes his shower, I linger in bed, marvelling at myself for daring to think about stepping out of my comfort zone and giving up my job. I never thought Harrison would be so relaxed about the idea. But it was he who suggested it! Maybe we’re rubbing off on each other. Perhaps, under my influence, Harrison’s losing his need to plan everything to the nth degree. Loosening up a bit …

      He knows how passionate I am about cooking and he’s always saying how much he enjoys my experiments in the kitchen. So, I guess he’s finally realising, as I think I am, that it might be the right move for me. Of course, there’s a lot to be said for erring on the side of caution – but on the other hand, if you don’t try, how will you ever know what you might have achieved if you’d been that little bit braver?

      I’m in my absolute element when I’m dreaming up a new menu, sourcing the best ingredients from the market (you can tell a perfect, ripe tomato just by breathing in its wonderful aroma), and getting happily steamy in the kitchen. And tasting. Always tasting, adjusting the seasoning, and tasting some more. (It’s a wonder I’m not the size of a modest detached house. Mind you, Harrison did once slap my bum playfully and remark that he liked his women ‘well upholstered’, so I guess I’m not a slender studio apartment either.)

      If I had my way, I’d spend most of my life in the kitchen. And I love creating Italian dishes best of all.

      Not that everything I attempt is a success.

      On my second date with Harrison, I tried to impress him with slow-cooked lamb’s liver and braised cabbage because he’d mentioned he liked traditional British food. I should have stuck to shepherd’s pie. It was definitely not my finest hour. The cabbage made my little flat smell like a hospital, and the liver – after stewing in the slow cooker for a full eight hours – basically disintegrated to a thick, brown mush, leaving us with a sort of warm offal smoothie. Luckily I had the number of an excellent local curry house to hand.

      I was seriously amazed when next morning, as I sprayed air freshener around to banish the evidence of the liver-and-cabbage disaster, Harrison phoned to say he’d had a great time and did I want to go on another date?

      I’ve come on a lot since then. It sounds corny, but the cookery course really lit the fire in me. I’d been making my own pasta for a long time and perfecting sauces to match the different pasta shapes. But on the course, I learned how to refine and combine flavours to incredible effect, using lots of fresh herbs to lift a dish to a whole new level. (The effect of adding fresh basil to a homemade tomato and mozzarella sauce was a real turning point for me. The flavour!)

      I also learned that the trick to producing dishes that people get excited over and demand the recipe for, is to create the sort of food you’re genuinely passionate about.

      Stretching out my arms and legs, I glance lazily around the room, which has only recently been decorated, revelling in having the whole bed to myself for a while. When we rented this house three months ago, we decided to decorate, and Harrison left the colour scheme entirely up to me, saying that a ‘woman’s eye’ was always so much better than СКАЧАТЬ