Read In the Kitchen for Free Online Page A

– got to be honest – she's out of my league, she is.'
    Charlie's hair fell to her shoulders in thick waves. It was strong red, like an Irish setter, and her skin was creamy white. 'How was it today?' she said.
    'How was work?' She laid her arm along the bar and took Gabe's hand in hers.
    'Fine,' said Gabe. 'What do you want – red or white?'
    She perched on the bar stool and crossed her legs. The dress was tight. It made her sit up straight. 'You're kidding me,' she said. 'Fine?'
    He thought about the girl, Lena, darkness hollowing her cheeks. He raised his beer and drank slowly, as if to hide the picture in his mind.
    Charlie twisted her hair over one shoulder. She sought him out with her cool green eyes and smiled in her lopsided way. 'Just another normal day. Nothing to report.'
    'I don't know,' he said. 'Yesterday was ... well, I told you. I'm half expecting the shit to hit the fan but nothing happened today, really. Maybe it's not going to.'
    Charlie asked the barman for a large glass of Chablis. 'Accidents will happen, right?' She pressed a stiletto heel against Gabe's shin. 'I might break my neck in these.'
    When Lena came in again he would talk to her, privately, about what she was doing there this afternoon. Her hair was blonde, almost colourless. He had never liked blondes much.
    'Calling Planet Gabriel. No. No sign of intelligent life.'
    'Sorry,' said Gabe. But Lena would not come again. She had been fired.
    'My day was terrific, thanks for asking.'
    'Was it?' He nodded. 'Good.' Though if she hadn't seen Oona, she wouldn't know that she had lost her job. So what made her run away?
    Charlie swirled the wine round her glass. She wore a large amber ring that she had bought in a souk in Marrakech on a long weekend with Gabe. 'I spent the morning in a so-called studio – a tape deck in a bedroom, that's a studio –
    recording a song that may or may not be released as part of a compilation CD
    in Japan. And this afternoon I auditioned for a regular slot at some private members' club in Mayfair. The guy had sleaze coming out of every orifice and he thought I was too old, I could just tell, and I really feel like I'm getting somewhere now, you know, my life's just taking off.'
    If she seemed to be inviting sympathy it was not a good time to offer it. Gabe had discovered this through a process of trial and error. 'Try out for one of those TV talent shows,' he said. 'It's the only thing left to do.' The police wanted to interview Lena. She would have to be found again.
    'Thanks,' said Charl ie. 'I'll do that when you have your own cooking show. How come you don't have your own cooking show? Nana Higson wants to know.'
    Nana was Gabriel's maternal grandmother. She lived with his father now.
    Phyllis Henrietta Josephine Higson. Gabe called her Nana. Dad called her Phyllis or, in the old days, 'the shapeshifter', but only behind her back. The neighbours still called her Mrs Higson, even after twenty years. Only Charlie referred to her as Nana Higson, and she hadn't met her yet.
    'I'm not telling you anything any more,' said Gabe. He put his hand on her collar bone, just below the choker. He thought, as he had thought so many times before, everyone here can see that I'm the one with her.
    'Can't stay for the second set, sweetheart.' The man was a loser in a patterned jumper. He had a paunch and was going bald in the worst way, a forlorn ridge of hair between two receding tracks. He leaned between Gabe and Charlie to deposit some glasses on the bar. 'If I stay it'll be three more rounds at least and I get an acid stomach, you know. So I'm off now, sweetheart.' He winked. 'Don't take it personal. You're a cracker, you really are.'
    Charlie kept a straight face. 'It's the fans that make it all worthwhile.'
    Gabe looked round the club, at the smoked glass on the pillars, the slippery banquette seats, the penguin-shaped ashtrays and the waitress who was emptying them, old Maggie, who was reasonably penguin-shaped herself. Everything