Anna hung up the phone and went into the kitchen. She poured a pint of water and drank it down in one go, staring at the sea beyond her window. Then she put the glass down and took a series of deep breaths. As she did so she realized that her panic was being subsumed by rage.

Protégé? As if they hadn’t trained in the same place, at the same time! As if she was only able to cook because of Geoff bloody Rowcliffe!

Anna blew out one last breath. She’d make this the best service she’d ever delivered. She was a better cook than Geoff had ever been. She knew it, and so did he, because why else would he be here? Why else would he care? Why else would he have spent twenty years making sure she’d never thought enough of herself to realize it?

Well, he was on her turf now.

Screw you, Geoff Rowcliffe, she thought. Screw you and the spatula you strode in with.

Then she squared her shoulders and went into battle.

‘I have to admit, it wasn’t bad. Maybe not as refined as I’d expected, given the reviews, but a good show of potential nonetheless.’

Anna was collecting the last items from the bench. Her other diners had finally left, though only because the wind was beginning to get up again. Otherwise they probably would have sat there for another three hours, listening to Geoff giving them the benefit of his wisdom. As it was, only Anna was left to hear her ex downplay the success of the meal as he watched her clear.

‘How generous of you to say so,’ Anna said, as she walked past him to the door of the Fishergirl’s Luck.

‘No need to be snippy. I’m offering a few thoughts, that’s all. We all need them if we’re going to improve, don’t we?’

She didn’t invite him in, but that didn’t stop him following her. Anna went to the sink and stacked the cups for washing. She knew the meal had been outstanding, which was why he had tried to find fault with her ‘refinement’ instead. He couldn’t be negative about the food itself, because it had been perfect, and he knew it. So did she. She didn’t need him to say so, which was fortunate, because she knew he never would. Anna turned to face him.

‘What do you want, Geoff?’ she asked. ‘Why are you here?’

He didn’t answer her immediately, pausing instead to look around her home with a barely disguised expression of disdain.

‘I’m here to offer you a shot at the big time. A proper shot. A chance to turn your dabble here into something with an actual future.’

The rage Anna had felt earlier began to bubble in her veins again. She crossed her arms. ‘Oh yes? And what chance would that be?’