Whatever Floats your Boat

Chapter Nineteen

This is a bit longer, don't you think ;-) Have a great day lovelies xx

Copyright © Georgie E. - Fruitea on Wattpad  

Chapter 19

"Right, you can't be on veg-cutting duty anymore." Geoff took the knife away from me and pushed me away from the carrots. I snivelled, wiping my nose with the back of my hand as I looked up at Geoff with swollen eyes.

He placed the knife on the side and pressed his cold hands to my forehead. "You're burning up, Lou. Are you sure the doctor said it was okay for you to be out in public?"

"It's just I cold," I said thickly.

Geoff's face screwed up at the sound of how ill I was. "You sound disgusting." He shooed me over to the wooden stool in the corner of the kitchen. "I'll put you on bins, get Nikita to take over dicing the carrots." He sighed and tapped his fingers. "You can do bins, mop the floor and change the barrels over tonight, okay?" I nodded glumly. "Then you can go home, get some sleep and not come within the vicinity of the restaurant until you're better, okay?"

I huffed but nodded anyway.

"You've been ill for – what? – two weeks now."

"And counting."

It had been horrible. I had been trapped in my bedroom for the past two weeks whilst I tried to get better. Mum was back in London and wasn't able to take care of me properly. I was stuck with Dad and his horrible boiling of everything into a stew. He even stewed tea badly.

What was the worst about Dad was that he didn't know what to do with me. I cried with the fever, cried over nothing at all and instead of asking what could possibly be the matter with his daughter he just patted my head, handed over another bowl of decomposed rice and suspicious looking sauce and left the room.

Geoff laughed as he brought the next dish to be served to the waiter's counter. I hadn't been able to socialise with the public in ages, I was too sick for Geoff's liking. "Right, I'm going to fix you up my grandma's Sick Person Stew, and some chilli tea."

"Chilli tea?" I said apprehensively. I wasn't partial to things that made my eyes water and my tongue zing.

Geoff smiled. "It's the best for colds, melts everything away."

"Great," I said slowly. "Tell me, was your grandmother Italian too?"

"Of course."

I nodded, moving my head made me feel really slow and tired. "She sounds more like a Spaniard with her torture culinary."

"And what would you know about Spanish food?" I shrugged. I knew absolutely diddly-squat about foreign food apart from Indian curry would never have meat and that Geoff made a mean linguine. "You do look rough, Lou." I smiled weakly. "I hope your boyfriend is acting as chief nurse."

I laughed. Last time I had talked to Geoff about Kendal it had hardly been in my control. But what he knew was that we weren't talking. He, the Italian romantic in him, must think that with my bug Kendal had swept me off my feet with a flower in a jar, hand squeezed orange juice and homemade soup.

"Not even close."

"Oh?" Geoff was now rummaging in the spice cabinet, putting powders and spices of alarming colours to the side for his creation. He looked over at me with my silence stretching too long; "What's he done for you then?"

I smirked, it was sweet to think that he thought Kendal had to do anything. "I haven't seen him since I got ill."

Geoff straightened, looking over at me in shock. "He hasn't even called?"