A Taste of Love Page 5

  Richard had given her his personal mobile number and she decided before speaking to him that it would be best to tell the truth rather than make an excuse. While his number rang out she looked around her father’s pride and joy – his beloved garden and greenhouse. She could see his seedling trays were ready and his big pots cleaned to fill with spring plants. It was just after six o’clock. She knew Richard would have left the office and hoped she wouldn’t be disturbing him.

  ‘Hello,’ a breathless voice answered.

  ‘Hi, Richard. It’s Helen.’

  He panted. ‘Let me just get my breath back, Helen. I’m running in the park.’

  She smiled, feeling strangely reassured by his quiet, comforting voice. ‘Oh, sorry, to disturb you,’ she said, and then told him about Karen, and apologised for such short notice.

  ‘You haven’t disturbed me. I was just getting a run in before dinner,’ he said. ‘It’s absolutely fine. You take whatever time you need and we’ll see you back when you’re ready…’

  She reassured him she would be back on Friday and if not she’d stay in touch. Richard wished them both well before ending the call.

  *

  While Helen sat next to Karen in the waiting area in the breast assessment centre she nervously picked up magazines form the stand and lay them unread on her knees. ‘So how did Greg take the news? I’d like to say I’m surprised he’s not here with us but I’m not really…’ Helen remembered years ago Karen saying that Greg treated her like a fragile doll in a box – he would bring her out every now and then to be made love to, and then return her wrapped in crêpe paper till the next time he wanted to play.

  Karen gave her a shaky smile. ‘You know what he’s like. He told me I was silly to worry about something that hadn’t happened yet and then printed me out the latest research update from NBCAM about dominant traits in the female line of families with breast cancer,’ she said shrugging her shoulders.

  ‘Jesus, Karen, he’s the bloody limit at times!’ Helen muttered between gritted teeth.

  Karen nodded. ‘I know you don’t understand him. But that’s because you expect him to be something he’s not. You see, I know his limitations and although he’s not here today I know he’ll be knotted up inside, and if I do get bad news he’ll be there for me when it really counts.’

  Helen knew this wasn’t the time or the place to berate Greg although she could have cheerfully throttled him for being such a useless specimen of mankind. ‘Of course, he will be,’ she pacified.

  ‘And I did read the hand-out he gave me, Helen. It states that the research was first recorded in 1985, which is the year Mum died, and I got to wondering if the doctor had told her about the breast cancer link between her mum and sister in Milan?’

  Helen laid her hand over Karen’s and squeezed it. ‘Looking back I wouldn’t have thought Mum was capable of any coherent thought before she died even if the doctor had told her. But try not to think about her today, Karen,’ she said. ‘We’ve got to concentrate on you. All I know for certain is that you’re not going to be a victim in any of this.’

  Suddenly, Karen’s name was called and she jumped up to follow the nurse. Helen could see Karen’s legs wobbling while they walked down the corridor and she clung to her hand. They were shown into a small, clinical room and sat down opposite a man sitting at a desk while the nurse took a seat in the corner. The consultant radiographer introduced himself then explained that he thought the area for concern on the mammogram looked like a cyst and that he wanted to do a fine needle test. This would give them a base-line indication result in the next two hours. And also a few bigger biopsies which would confirm the exact results in five days’ time.

  Karen looked desperately at Helen, who gently nodded her head encouragingly. ‘Go on. You’ll be fine.’

  Karen finally let go of her clammy hand to follow the nurse behind the screen. Helen rubbed the feeling back into her hand where Karen had been digging her fingernails into the palm. She heard the nurse murmuring reassurances to Karen about how the two tests would only take around ten minutes and then asked her to strip off her shirt and bra and lie on the couch. The biopsies and needle test were soon done, Karen was re-dressed and back holding onto Helen’s hand as they walked slowly in silence to the hospital cafeteria.

  *

  Karen sat at a table with her hands clenched together on her lap while Helen stood at the counter and the assistant placed two cups of tea on her tray. Looking at Karen she felt her heart constrict with love and pity and truly wished she could take her place – she looked so small and feeble. Her own mouth was dry and her stomach churned hoping and praying that the results were going to be negative. If they weren’t she seriously doubted whether Karen would be able to cope. It was a situation that she’d often thought about, knowing she had as much chance of having the dreaded disease as Karen and, for that matter, her own daughter. It could quite easily be her sitting in that chair feeling terrified and maybe it would be her turn next year, or in two or three years’ time. The routine mammogram program didn’t start until women were fifty, but maybe she should enquire sooner about having one done.

  She paid for the tea then carried the tray across to Karen to begin the two-hour wait. Within ten minutes of drinking the lukewarm tea and making as many positive and encouraging comments as she could muster they both looked at the clock on the wall and began to count every second ticking away.

  ‘It’s like waiting for the death p-penalty,’ Karen croaked, tears welling up in her eyes.

  Helen dragged her small plastic chair next to Karen and put her arms around her squeezing her tight. ‘We are going to get through this together and whatever happens we’ll sort it out,’ she said, trying to sound confident.

  *

  Helen and Karen sat again in the same chairs facing the consultant across his desk as he smiled sympathetically at Karen. Both of Karen’s sweaty hands were grasped tightly around one of Helen’s and she could feel Karen’s legs shaking uncontrollably against her own jeans. There was a thin sheen of sweat standing along her top lip and she felt the tea she’d drank belch back up into her throat.

  The consultant pushed himself on his three-wheeled office chair to the end of the desk, holding the results in front of Karen. ‘OK. The results we have from this test show that there are some cells in the cyst that are unusual. As a gauge we use a score of one to ten where anything over five is classed as suspicious. Your score is four, which is borderline. This lump we can see is what we call an intracystic papilloma and I have to tell you that whatever the biopsy tells us we need to operate and remove this.’

  Helen noted the name had changed from a cyst to a lump and cleared her throat. ‘So this has to come out even if the results are negative?’

  The consultant nodded. ‘I’m afraid so. What we’ve found in the past is that they can turn nasty in little old ladies so it’s best to just get rid of it here and now.’

  Helen listened carefully to the plan of action because she could tell by Karen’s face that she wasn’t taking anything in.

  He continued. ‘You’ll need to come back in five days and get the exact results and then Karen will be referred to a breast care nurse and the surgical team to have the lumpectomy. Then we’ll discuss any further treatment at the next visit when we know the correct course to be taken.’

  Karen’s face was grey. With wild, bulging eyes she stared at Helen, and began to open and close her mouth without saying anything. Suddenly, she jumped up from the chair, hurried to the door, flung it back against the wall and ran off down the corridor. The nurse was quicker than Helen and set off after her while she quickly apologised to the consultant and hurried after them.

  Chapter Six

  The following morning at work Annette hugged Helen while they stood together in the kitchen and Helen told her how hysterical Karen had been, and how it had taken her and Greg nearly three hours before they could calm her down.

  ‘Oh, the poor mite,’ Annette sympathis
ed. ‘It doesn’t bear thinking about what she must be going through. I bet this is going to be the longest week of her life having to wait till next Thursday to find out what’s in store…’

  Helen slumped down onto one of the stools. ‘I know. I’m just praying that the cells are the type that can be removed and they’ve caught it early enough?’ Because she’d kept a rigid hold on herself and had stayed strong for Karen the previous day she now felt totally exhausted. When she’d finally arrived home late the night before she’d crawled under her duvet and cried herself to sleep.

  Annette looked at her through concerned eyes. ‘And you look shattered. You should have taken today off to pull yourself together.’

  Helen sighed. ‘Yeah, I am knackered. But because we don’t know what’s going to happen there might be rougher days ahead and more hospital visits, and of course, the operation. I want to hang onto as many day’s holiday as possible.’

  Annette nodded, understanding. ‘Yes, I can see that. And was Richard okay when you rang and asked for yesterday off?’

  Helen thought she could see a small smile creeping around Annette’s lips and wondered if she had noticed her interest in Richard. She hoped she hadn’t been making it obvious that she liked him because the last thing she wanted was to make a fool of herself. ‘Oh, yes. He was fine,’ she said, avoiding Annette’s eyes. ‘I’m going to get on with some research today and throw some ideas together for the new Sushi products which will help keep things off my mind. And if I work through my lunch break I’ll be able to leave early and call into Karen’s on the way home to check on her…’

  They walked back into the office together with mugs of coffee and sat back at their desks. By lunchtime she’d spoken to an outside supplier who had new products she’d never tasted or used before and had ordered samples to arrive the following week. There were tempura battered prawns, prawn and pork dumplings in wonton wrappers, chilli rice crackers and dim sum parcels which she hoped to use in her new pack ideas. She’d also found a supplier of Inari, a deep-fried, soya bean curd, which in England is called tofu. The Japanese, she knew, used this regularly in their Sushi lines.

  She could smell and feel Richard’s presence behind her desk before she lifted her head up from the computer screen and swung round to face him. Thankfully, Annette was in a meeting and Tom had gone out for an early lunch. ‘Oh, hello,’ she greeted him warmly, noticing his cream shirt and dark brown jacket which seemed to deepen his brown eyes.

  He grinned back at her, dragged a chair next to hers and looked at the photographs of the products on the screen. ‘What are you up to? They look scrummy.’

  She smiled at the word scrummy and imagined him as a young lad licking his lips before his favourite meal. He was such a genuine type of guy, she thought happily. ‘I hope they’ll be scrummy when we taste them next week,’ she teased, and for the first time in two days she felt her spirits lift.

  He laughed. ‘Probably not quite the correct sensory term to use?’ he asked. ‘But they do look good.’

  She agreed and told him about the new supplier and a little about the ideas for a new lunch-box pack and how the Japanese called them Bento boxes. ‘One of the most challenging aspects of this job is trying to develop new lines suitable for our English palate,’ she said. He raised an eyebrow, looking puzzled. She explained further, ‘Because Sushi is a relatively new food group, if we put a full range of Japanese Sushi pieces into our packs many of our customers in the supermarket won’t know what they are. And we certainly couldn’t use the Japanese names or they’d be completely confused. But as our brief from the retailer is to introduce authentic Japanese Sushi into the packs we’ve got to find a way of easing it in.’

  He leaned further towards her to look at the screen and she showed him the Inari / Tofu product to support the reasoning behind her theory. She could hear his breathing as his chest was so close to her and for one split second she would have given anything to put her head on his shoulder or snuggle into his chest.

  He asked, ‘But I suppose there will be customers who’ve been eating Sushi for the last ten years or so and will know the Japanese names and different ingredients?’

  She shook herself out of her reverie and nodded. ‘Yeah, and Annette has a whole marketing strategy, which she’ll talk you through, about the different types and ages of Sushi eaters. And when we go into London you’ll see the difference for yourself…’

  He sat back in the chair and she immediately missed his body heat and closeness.

  ‘I’m looking forward to it,’ he said.

  They arranged the trip for Monday and agreed it would be easier to take the Tube into London Bridge.

  ‘You’ll need walking shoes on though,’ she said. ‘Because Itsu and Wasabi are at London Bridge, and Yo! Sushi is in the Food Hall at Selfridges. And if we’ve got time we can squeeze in some more places en route…’

  Stretching out his long legs his eyes danced mischievously. ‘Don’t worry about me – I’ll keep up with you, no matter how quickly you walk. I’ll be right there alongside you,’ he stated. Their eyes locked together for what seemed like an age and she knew, without any more deliberation, that he felt the same attraction.

  *

  On Monday morning, after an emotional weekend running between Karen’s house, her father’s bungalow and talking to Rachel for hours on her mobile, Helen spotted and then waved to Richard as he hurried along the road towards Acton Tube station.

  They settled themselves on seats in the middle carriage and chatted briefly about the plan for the day and in which order they would visit the Sushi places. She’d dressed carefully that morning in her new brown leather jacket, knee-length pencil skirt and cream shirt. And although she had reservedly tried to fasten the buttons up to the neck of the shirt, the plunge-bra did such a good job at thrusting her breasts outwards and upwards, that the buttons gaped. Admitting defeat she gave up and left the top three buttons undone.

  Richard had dressed more casually and she admired the beige V-neck sweater and black jeans he wore, which also gave her the first glimpse of his taut, neat bottom. ‘So, if we see some Sushi that we don’t pack on our site shall we buy it to take back to work?’ he asked, matching her long strides as they walked towards London Bridge.

  She smiled at him and nodded as they entered Itsu and took menus from the stand. They bought coffee and sat down at one of the round, white melamine tables. ‘Shall we look through the menu first and I’ll describe some of the Sushi to you?’ she offered. ‘Then we can decide what we’d like to taste and what to order.’

  ‘Sounds like a good idea,’ he said, awkwardly perched on a small, round pink stool.

  As it was just after eleven o’clock the eatery was quiet, which gave them the time to discuss some of the products on the menu. They both liked the potsu cartons which had chicken, duck or vegetables and dumplings.

  ‘They’ll be a great lunchtime grab to buy from a supermarket and then heat up at your desk in an office.’ she said. ‘But I don’t know whether the site will have the equipment to deal with cartons in production.’

  He nodded and they ordered Sushi boxes with California crab rolls, avocado and green beans to taste.

  ‘Also, we’ve never had crab on site before but I’m sure it will be okay. I’ll just have to run it past our technical manager first,’ she said, tucking into the roll. The fresh taste of the salty crab with the beans and avocado was delicious and she licked her lips with relish. She saw him staring at her lips which, thinking about how she’d told Karen they were her best feature, made her want to giggle. ‘What?’ she cried, grinning at him.

  He shook his head slowly – his lips twitched in amusement and then he laughed with her.

  While she explained that California rolls were given the name by a Californian staying in a hotel room in the USA, they ate edamame beans, which he declared moreish. Then they tried sandwich salads, which were flatbreads covered with salmon and tuna with all the vegetables piled on top. They
left Itsu with the three products they’d tasted in her cool bag then headed towards Wasabi, where, after comparing the two menus, they picked out favourites again. Finally, they made their way to Yo! Sushi.

  ‘Phew,’ Richard exclaimed when they found themselves a seat on the Tube and placed the bags by their feet. ‘I can see what Tom means now by eating so much Sushi.’ He pulled a comical face and patted his belly.

  She nodded but sighed happily at such a lovely day out. It was a long time, she decided, since she’d enjoyed someone’s company as much. They seemed to be on the same wavelength, had many common interests, and most importantly shared the same sense of humour. But, as relaxed as she felt with him, a tiny nagging voice in the back of her mind reminded her he was married. And this, she thought, was a dangerous situation to be in.

  Leaning back in the seat while he answered a call on his mobile she recalled a couple of times in the past when she’d felt slightly attracted to guys at work but nothing had ever happened because she was a married woman and they were married too. But now, she reasoned, was it different because she wasn’t with Rob any more and she could do as she pleased? And that, she decided, accounted for her behaviour. But what about his? How could he be happily in love with his wife and react to her in this way, or maybe it was just his way of having fun with a work colleague and she was misreading his body language.

  Helen collected her car from the car park and drove them both back to site with the cool bags.

  ‘Thanks for today, Helen,’ he said. ‘It’s really helped me to get a handle on the products I’m going to be working with. And I’m amazed at how much you’ve learnt in just two short years in development.’

  She relaxed her shoulders while driving and revelled in the happy feeling of weightlessness. ‘I didn’t have much choice. There was no one here to show me the ropes and I just had to pick it up as quickly as possible,’ she said. ‘I’ve sort of worked my way up in the industry from starting as an assistant in the technical department of a frozen food factory where I worked part time around Rachel’s’ school hours. Rob sneered at me for working in a factory but I didn’t care because I loved the job. Then I started helping out in development and a technologist taught me the ropes. And of course, when I saw this Sushi developer position advertised I applied and miraculously got the job…’