Page 34 of New Beginnings on Railway Lane

‘What about your boyfriend?’ he asked. ‘Don’t you go out much?’

She looked at him surprised. ‘I don’t have a boyfriend,’ she said. ‘Not any more. We broke up recently.’

There was a long silence whilst he seemed to digest that particular bit of information. In fact, the silence became so awkward that Katy felt compelled to fill it.

‘What about you?’ she asked, shuffling at the awkwardness of the question.

Ryan shook his head. ‘No time for dating when you work in a restaurant every night,’ he told her.

‘So you’re just as much of a workaholic as I am,’ she said, with a soft smile.

‘I guess so,’ he replied, standing up. ‘But all this talk of restaurants is making me hungry.’

‘I agree.’ She stood up as well. ‘It must be nearly dinner time, so I’ll sort myself out. Do you need me to fill the kettle for you too?’

He looked confused. ‘What for?’ he asked.

‘I’m going to have a Pot Noodle for dinner,’ she told him.

He gave a shocked laugh. ‘You’re kidding, right?’

‘No,’ she replied, with a shrug. ‘That’s pretty much all I know of cooking apart from toast.’

He looked horrified. ‘A Pot Noodle?’ he asked, his eyes wide.

‘I don’t have the time nor the skills to cook,’ she told him, feeling a little embarrassed about his judgement on her choice of food. ‘I mean, I have no great desire to winThe Great British Bake Off, so what does it matter?’

He was still astonished. ‘So if I were to look in your larder at home, what would I find?’ he asked, interested.

‘Cobwebs and a bottle of gin most probably,’ she told him with a sheepish grin.

He laughed before giving her a mock-stern look. ‘Right,’ he said. ‘Follow me.’

Not knowing what else to do, she went with him into the kitchen.

He turned to her. ‘A decent meal doesn’t have to take long to cook.’

‘Doesn’t it involve lots of planning and ingredients?’ she asked suspiciously. ‘Because I never have time for all that.’

Ryan laughed. ‘Nope. No planning, just spontaneity. Look, I’ll show you. I’m going to teach you something easy to make.’

‘Easier than a Pot Noodle?’

He grimaced. ‘Something with less additives and more taste hopefully. Right, you grab the wine in the fridge and pour us out a glass. I’ll get going on the pasta.’

She poured them both a drink and then watched in starry-eyed admiration as he flew around the kitchen, grabbing ingredients here and there with smooth assurance.

Pretty soon, pasta was on the hob simmering whilst he cut up some tomatoes and placed them under the grill.

‘They’ll only take ten minutes to soften and charr,’ he told her.

Meanwhile, he grabbed a few ingredients, such as basil, garlic and olive oil, which he mixed in a small bowl until they formed a rich pesto. He quickly toasted some pine nuts in a frying pan.

Katy thought it was amazing the way he kept on top of everything, like one of those magicians keeping all the plates spinning on the poles.

‘You must miss cooking each night in the restaurant,’ she said, looking at his face lit up with joy as he worked.

He stopped for a moment and looked a bit stunned before he gave her a sad smile. ‘I guess I do. In fact, this is the first time that I’ve cooked Italian food since I came home. Dad prefers his meat and two vegetables.’