Marble’s Marvels

Chapter 3

Chapter Three

Aidan Marble muttered to himself when his wife left him washing up the eight plates and four cups. Who the hell did she think she was? Ordering him about like he was her lackey. They were partners, and if he wanted to, he could be brutally honest.

The majority of the capital they put into the restaurant came from his parents, not hers. If anything, it made Marble's Marvels more his, especially given that he cooked the food, without which there wouldn't even be a business. She drove him mental sometimes.

Looking around his once magnificent kitchen, Aidan wanted it to go back to the way it was before the crash, with his teams running around, trying to get their starters, mains or desserts out, nearly bumping into each other in the process. Not many people knew how much blood, sweat and tears went into keeping a busy kitchen.

He took pride in knowing that in all seventeen years, fifteen of which were successful, not one customer had ever waited for over thirty minutes for their meals. Nowadays, he scoffed at pub owners giving warnings of more than forty-five minutes wait on service when the building was all but empty.

Back when he had staff to manage, Aidan split his team into three. He had two chefs on starters, three including himself on Mains, and a further two on desserts. When the starter and dessert teams ran out of orders, they helped with the mains. He found this system worked better than giving each member of staff a specific section, although it did add to near accidents.

Behind the line, Aidan started wiping the steel surfaces, spraying them with cleaner, because contrary to Kate's assertion, he took health and hygiene seriously, as he should. When the Food Standards Agency inspected his kitchen, they had not brought up one area of concern. All issues were to do with the building's upkeep, and their landlords were responsible for that.

His mobile buzzed in his blue and white checked trouser pocket. Checking it, an email appeared from Roderick's Foundation, the charity they applied to for a medium sized loan. He and Kate spent days filling out the relevant forms.

"Oh no!" He hung his head at the words, 'We regret to inform you.' That was it, over. There was no more money coming their way. He slammed his phone down, the steel making a loud metallic echo.

Kate was going to be devastated; she had scoured the internet for loan opportunities, having visited numerous bank managers, all to no avail. The Roderick's Foundation counted as their last chance at breathing life into Marble's Marvels.

He couldn't tell Kate, not yet. Aidan had to wrestle with the idea himself first. Squatting, he wiped the front of the salad bar down, making it spotless for tonight's service, such as it was. Four tables, twenty customers in total, all staggered.

Unable to put it off any longer, he picked up his phone and strolled out to the restaurant to find Kate at table thirty. Pulling out a chair opposite her, he sat down, placing the mobile with the email open in front of her. "This came through just now."

After reading it, Kate put it back down, her elbows on the wood, her fingers massaging her temples. "So that's it? We're done? We don't have any more money?"

"It looks that way, unless you found somewhere else to apply?" He would do anything to take away Kate's look of desperation. She shook her head. "We've still got enough in the bank for a few months, haven-"

"One month, tops." She stared at the wood. Kate looked up, regarding him for a second. "Well, that's that. The last resort it is then. You need to suck it up, pick up that phone and ask your parents for help."

"I'm going to be off now, Kate," Francesca said from across the restaurant. "I'll see you both this evening." She waved, walked to the front door, and left.

Aidan stood, staring at his wife. "Forget it! I'm not asking him for a penny." His wife knew how he felt about begging his parents for financial assistance in his business. "You don't want dad as a silent partner, trust me."

"No, you're right, I don't, but these are desperate times." Kate stood; her eyes unblinking. "We have a few thousand left in our account. We need a cash injection if we're going to keep her doors open." Her eyes softened. "Please, love, for me?"

Ordinarily, he would do anything for Kate. "I can't. I won't. He'll want a percentage, like Alan Sugar on steroids. If we accept more money from him, he'll be interfering and causing mayhem before you can say, 'Bill, please.' I would rather close than have dad as a partner. And you know this. Why are you asking?"

"Because I'm desperate here, Aidan, that's why." Her voice wobbled. Wiping her welling eyes, her chin crumpling, Kate stared at the wood again. "I don't want to lose her." She looked up at him. "This place is all we have left of-"

He put his hand out, squeezed her arm. "Alright, I'll phone him. Please don't say it." His wife was about to say this restaurant was the only thing they had left of their life before the crash. Before Vinnie died. If they lost this place, it would be like losing him for a second time. And he would do anything to not let that happen. "I'll phone him later. But don't be expecting miracles; he's still an arsehole. And if he accepts, don't come running to me when he starts meddling in this place. Agreed?"

Kate nodded, wiping her face. "Agreed. Thank you!"

Aidan smiled. "Anytime."

"What about now?" Kate stared at him, awaiting his reply.

"What about now, what?" He tried to seem confused.

"What about ringing your dad now? We really need this money, love. Without it, we're finished; we'll be closing her doors by the end of February at this rate."

Aidan took out his mobile, put the phone to his ear, and pretended to call his old man. "It's going through to his answerphone," he mouthed to her. "Yeah, dad, hi, it's me. Long time no speak. Erm, listen, I need to talk to you about something important. Could you give me a call back when you get this? Thanks."

"Oh, thank you for doing this," she said after he hung up. "I know you don't want to involve your parents, but we need them." She kissed him on his cheek.

"You're welcome!" He slipped his phone in his pocket, guilt rising at lying to her. She would be on his case from now on. 'Has he called yet?' She would pester him until he relented. Now all he had to do was pretend to have a row with his dad, and that would be the end of it. Aidan would prefer to close the restaurant than have him sticking his oar in.

While he pretended to be in communication with his dad, Aidan started looking into possible revenue streams himself. Instead of playing Angry Birds during service, he would put the time to good use. There had to be more small charities out there like Roderick's.

After wiping the surfaces and mopping the floor, he went into the restaurant, waiting for Kate to finish the paperwork. After five minutes, he stood when she picked up her laptop. "Are you ready?"

At five to three, Aidan let his wife out of the restaurant, stepped outside. He closed the front door behind him and locked it. "Let's go home!"

Their Range Rover was parked behind the restaurant, but to get there they had to walk past four shops. A florist, Flo's Flowers, run by the charming Florence; an actual greengrocer that every resident of Bishops Drake bought from - it was the hub of the community and the owner, Albert, was also vice mayor of the village. Next to the grocers was a little convenience store with a tiny post office, and lastly a small model shop.

He and Kate said good afternoon to a couple of residents as they walked past.

It made him sad to think of how Bishops Drake used to be before the crash. They'd talked to everyone. It split their home in two; there were those on his side, who believed his Vinnie was killed by a drink driver; then there were those who somehow suspected his son steered into the wrong side of the road, causing the fatal collision.

The father of the lad who crashed into Vinnie, Christian 'Chris' Ashcroft went around telling the locals that Vinnie went into his son. Aidan had nearly punched Chris in the King's Head for that slur. Ashcroft's son, Liam had been found to be over the legal drink driving limit.

Up ahead was the village church, an imposing figure that sat judging everyone. Aidan had not been to a service for over a year.