Tulla and Ella Seivers are the owners of not only the beautifully laid out restaurant, The Kingston, but they also own the community kitchen next door to it which is used as a base for catering, for gourmet food lessons and for basics classes for women who have just got out of prison or other tough situations who need to learn cooking skills. A big thing to have going for a couple who don't look much older than I.
Tulla is a man with Jamaican and French blood, but who has lived his whole life in Australia. He looks like a thinner, more enthusiastic version of Ainslie Harrison...yes...more enthusiastic.
His wife is a chirpy little red head who frowns in thought at everything one says even on non serious subjects like how nice the inside of the restaurant looks, which is all we've talked about thus far.
They showed us at a table in the corner and had put a cheeseboard down for us to nibble at while we chat. The feeling this place and these people give off is exactly what I want to have for Adriana's Corner. I'm so glad we came here and the couple are ridiculously nice. The kind of people who are impossible to dislike and easy to talk to. We've been here for half an hour hearing about the place and how they've built it up to what it is now. The cheese board is long gone as have the drinks.
"So! What brings you all to our little place?" Tulla finally asks us, leaning back in his chair.
"Have you ever heard of the Oxford Food Garden?" I ask.
"Heard of it? We're regulars. Tulla and I get coffee and lunch there sometimes to take to the park." I look at Taffy and 'Named Brunette' and they both nod.
"Yes, they're in nearly every week. Didn't know you were the owners of the Kingston but I remember seeing you both." Taffy says.
"Didn't you clap with joy at seeing a can of something at one stage?" Named Brunette asks. Tulla nods, not embarrassed at all.
"Yes! I used to buy these small cans of chipotle in adobe paste, but my supplier stopped selling it. Low and behold, we walk into the Oxford and there it is! Life saver!"
I laugh a little shaking my head. I wish I was that passionate about something.
"So you guys all work there?" Ella asks.
"We do now!" Lauren chirps.
"Last time we went there it was closed wasn't it babe?" Tulla asks. She gives a nod in reply.
"That's where I come in." I interrupt, "Taffy and I are the new owners. The original ones took off, one of them being the chef. I can't cook to save my life, so we're looking for someone who will know how to use the ingredients we sell and keep the standard going. We heard you had to look for a new chef recently and we were wondering if you had anybody in mind...someone that can maybe only work days or something?"
Tulla and Ella look at each other in thought and I look at the others nervously.
"There's free food in it for you. There's meat in the fridges that need to go. We won't be open for a little bit anyway so..."
"I'm wondering babe if were thinking of the same person..." Tulla says to Ella, eyes on her.
"I was thinking Terry..." she says.
"No, he didn't want to work any weekends ever remember..."
"Oh yeah. Who were you thinking of?"
"Aaron...can't remember his last name. Good chef, but he could only work days and had to be home for the kids..."
"Oh yeah, his wife had just died...or left. Did he say?"
"No, I'll go and see if we still have his C.V." Tulla jumps up and makes his way to the office whistling loudly as he goes.
"How did you and your husband meet?" Lauren asks. Ella smiles, tucking a piece of her red hair face.
"I was hired by him to be the new sous chef here when he first bought the place. Six years and four kids later we are still going good so that's something."
"Four kids?" I ask, "Sheesh."
"Yep. All under six."
"Was it love at first sight?" Lauren asks.
"Oh grief." I sigh. Ella just smiles and looks down.
"For me, yes. I came here for lunch, saw him and fell head over heels. I had a thing for dark men and they were hard to find in the middle of Tasmania. I then saw a job going here and was curious. Didn't know he was going to be interviewing or that he was the boss but I was hooked. He was already in a relationship at that time though, so I had to wait...not long mind you." she grins. This is when the man himself comes back and throws a C.V on the table.
"Aaron Stewart, thirty-two. Trained in good restaurants but had to bow out when something happened with his wife and he's had to take over. Quiet, serious type but friendly enough. If he doesn't work out, give us a call and well have another dig through."
"Thank you. We really appreciate this."
"No problem." Tulla smiles openly.
The visit was finished soon after as the two of them had to pick up their kids but they've asked us to come in any time. Tulla knows Tasmania's food like the back of his hand so we were invited to use him as a research source if needed. An offer I may take up as they're both very enthusiastic and easy to talk to.
By the time I've finished up at the Kingston, chatted it all over with the girls, dropped Lauren off, chatted to her mother again and bought home doughnuts for the boys to eat, its four o'clock in the afternoon.
As I dial the number of the chef on the phone, I check my e-mails.
"Nina,
I can't sleep. Found a chef yet?
From Me."
***
"Miles. What's your number? I demand to have it!"
"Aaron here." A rather preoccupied voice calls into the phone. In the background I can here chattering of kids and the clanging of things. I decide to get straight to the point.
"Hello Aaron. This is Nina Merelize. I hear you were looking for work. Is this still true?"
"Uhhhh, yes. I can't work nights though."
"That's fine. It's why I've called. You were recommended by Tulla and Ella at the Kingston. We need a chef relatively fast...a good one. Have you heard of the Oxford Food Garden?"
"Yes. In Sandy Bay?" he asks.
"That's the one. I'm one of the new owners. Sound interested?"
"Ummm, yeah, maybe..."
"When are you free to talk?"
"Um..." he laughs a little as I hear a child scream in the background. "Sorry. Kids back from school and they're tetchy."
"Okay, well, if you're not doing anything now; there are people here who could baby sit while we talk, if not today then maybe..."
"Today is good...um...half an hour?"
"Good." I smile excitedly.
After giving Aaron the address, I look at the email from Miles declaring he's scared, then giving up his number.
I can't believe he's not sleeping again...I can't believe I haven't thought of how to help him earlier but the perfect idea has just formed in my head. Must be the new sense of purpose.
I rush back into the lounge and to my bag where I begin to pull things out. Taffy is still here but 'Named Brunette' has gone home. I really should ask her what her name is again. It's getting ridiculous. I pull out my address book victoriously and find the name I'm looking for while I dial in the number Miles gave me.
"By the way, Aaron will be here in half an hour." I call out to Taffy.
"That was quick. Is he interested?"
"We'll see."
This is when Miles answers
"Hi." he says ever so quietly. "Should I be scared?"
"No, don't worry. Why can't you sleep?"
"Flatmates had a party and they're still here." he replies with a yawn, "I'm so shattered."
"I bet..." I frown feeling sorry for him.
"Found your chef?" he asks.
"Uh maybe. Meeting one in half an hour so we'll see but hey, here's the reason I've called. I need you to do something for me."
"Mmm."
"Is that okay?" I ask getting the sense he's about to nod off at any stage now.
"Yes. I don't mind. What is it?"
"Tomorrow after work...are you listening?"
"Yes."
"Okay. I want you to go to where my apartment and ask for..." I look at the book, "Mrs Lento in number 22. Got that?"
"Mrs Lento, number 22. What for?"
"She has a key to my apartment. Tell her you're a friend of mine, in fact, I'll call her later and tell her you're coming and I want you to go to my flat...and stay there."
There's a silence on the other end.
"What for?" He eventually asks.
"Miles. You need to sleep. You can't do it while you are living with those people..."
"Nina..." Miles moans softly. I ignore him and begin cleaning up the dining room.
"Stay at my flat until you have to go on your O.E or your sisters wedding. You need to sleep. This isn't a request. This is a demand. You've sounded so tired Miles. I can't bare it. I don't know how you do it. There is a coffee machine there. You will stay there. End of story."
There's another silence and I hear him sigh.
"Are you sure?"
"Yes." I say clearly. "Please Miles. Get some sleep or you will get sick and I...I don't want you to get sick. It's no trouble to me. I'm over here so promise you will."
"But...its huge of you to do this."
"No. I'm not giving you the flat. I'm just letting you stay. Think silence, bed, sleep."
I hear him laugh a little.
"Okay..." he says quietly. "Thank you. I mean it Nina. Thank you so much. I don't know what to say."
"Please! This is nothing compared to the crap you have to put up with from me..."
"It's not crap Nina and I've told you before that I like it..."
"You like hearing about my life falling apart?" I ask doubtfully as I shove things back into my bag.
"No. I like helping. I like hearing you feel better after talking to me."
I smile.
"And now I get to thank you by giving you back sleep."
"Yes. Thanks again. I can't wait to sleep and I really can't wait to come see you and your café."
"And the sun."
"And the sun." he repeats with a laugh. "I can't wait to get out of the cold. I can't stand it."
"Where were you born? I still can't place your accent." I ask, flopping into the couch.
"Born in Kent but moved around a lot. We hardly spent two years at a time in the same place probably because of my fathers' ever decreasing reputation wherever he went. Even I can't place my accent."
I laugh a bit.
"And your dad?"
"He's upper-class proper English."
"He was rich then?"
"For all the wrong reasons. He ran a business that bought furniture from deceased estates. He'd convince people that the furniture wasn't worth as much as they'd been told, and in some cases that they were fake. He'd pay them a fraction of what it was worth then sell it for mega bucks at auctions. Good money in antique furniture too so. . ."
"How old were you when you got out of it?"
"Eighteen. Girlfriend at the time helped me get out of it. Mind you she got me into things a tad worse but at least I was away from him. We argued constantly..."
"I can't imagine you arguing." I say with a smile.
"Because I don't any more. My father and I argued all the time about everything and look where it got us. That's why I refuse to argue with you or anyone else...mainly you. Especially over the phone. I don't want you to be angry with me and so far we haven't had a conversation that's worth my being angry at you so you'll have to find somebody else to yell at. I don't want to be that person and I don't want you to be the person who I yell at."
I shake my head brushing my fringe out of my face wondering how he does it.
"I'm sorry Nina. I hope I'm not coming across as grumpy. I slip into a dark place when I talk about all that..."
"It's fine. I now know why it is I can never get a strong word out of you. I won't try any more. I'll just stick to getting sharp words from Joe...which is way too easy by the way. At least you were a challenge."
I hear him laugh a bit then yawn. I rest my head back with a sad smile.
"I'll let you go now. Try and get some sleep. I have to prepare for this chef..."
"Let me know how it goes okay?"
"Will do. Don't forget to use the heater at my place."
"Okay. I'm paying the bills."
"No your..."
"I don't argue remember?" he says. I smile with a glare.
"I can see that will be a problem."
"Night Nina." He laughs "Thanks again."
We hang up and I smile, glad I've finally been able to help him with something. I wasn't planning on talking to him for that long but that's kind of how it is with us now. I just know not to use up that time trying to get him to argue. Now to make sure my bills for the next month are pre-paid.
Try arguing with that Miles Whatever Hamilton!
***
Aaron Stewart is a tall blond man with a strong jaw and serious, dark eyes. He looks completely out of his depth with his three children which makes me curious as to what happened with his wife and how recently.
The children are outside with Joe, Alyssa and Eli while Taffy and I interview Aaron.
I put a coffee down in front of him and sit down next to Taffy. Aaron folds his arms and leans forward on the table.
"So what would be involved in this job. Café food?" The way he says this indicates he wouldn't be too happy about that, so I smile. I don't blame him. If he's as talented a chef as Tulla and Ella made him out to be, it would be insulting to have to make muffins and sandwiches for a living.
I lean forward also, coffee in hands.
"Yes and no. It is a café to some extent but it's different in the sense that it uses flavors and ingredients that people may not be used to."
Taffy then decides to put a word in.
"Our pies for instance are big sellers but they aren't mince and cheese or anything. Our best seller is called a Man Pie which is stuffed with bacon, mince, aged cheddar, spinach, potato and a whole egg. Everything in it is sold at the shop. We need someone there who can give people more than your average pie or pasta salad or Panini. We want someone who will make people want to cook and buy the ingredients they've just tasted. You get to design your own food combinations, cook them and be home in time to do homework with your kids."
"That's why we want a chef." I add, "We need a place where chefs and foodies can come for a drink, lunch and not be served a risotto that tastes like wallpaper paste or a chicken sandwich with ninety percent lettuce, you know? The food at the Oxford was raved about. We need someone to keep up that standard."
Aaron leans back and nods.
"What are the hours?" he asks. Taffy has the answer for this.
"You'll know better than me how long it will take to get those things out before nine which is when we open and as long as everything is well stocked then you can probably leave at three, just before it starts to slow down. If you can train me as you go then we'll have back up if you get stuck with the kids or whatever."
"I didn't think of that." I mumble.
"That easy?" he asks. I grin.
"No. We still don't have any proof that you can cook. When is your next free day?"
"Tomorrow or Sunday but I'll have to find a baby sitter."
"We can do that. That's fine. If you come to the Oxford, which is being renamed by the way, you will have an open pantry to show us a few idea's of what you'd put on the menu. You'll get paid for that day whether you get the job or not, how does it sound?"
There's a silence for a while and he nods.
"Tomorrow?" he asks. I look at Taffy and she nods.
"Meet me there at 8.30 and I'll show you around. Chat more about pay." she says. I smile, quite proud of her. She seems to be acting more like an owner now rather than just an employee and her confidence has sky-rocketed. That's yet another thing I don't have to worry about. I was worried for a while that I would have to take the lead in everything but she's picked up nicely.
Also, if she's going to take care of Aaron tomorrow, it means I can spend the weekend in the garden, sorting through boxes and sleeping. I may even find some time to have a breather and let everything I've done these last three weeks and everything I'm about to do sink in.
A/N: I know not a lot happens in this chapter but things pick up fast soon, I promise. Be kind. Bear with....