Parcel for you...Part 15

 

Over the course of the next few days, Spencer became thoroughly preoccupied with his role as dinner party chef, browsing recipe books, researching food trends past and present, and watching online cookery demonstrations. 

 

Vanessa had suggested early on, cooking something well-known, like Beef Wellington. It seemed like a safe choice since she didn’t really know much about Stu, beside his penchant for plane crashes. She knew that Pat usually went for traditional but posh dishes when they dined out together in local pubs. After all Spencer’s digging, it came as a surprise when he approached her with his final decision.

 

‘I think I know what I’m going to make,’ he said with some enthusiasm, ‘I’ve considered everything and I’ve decided on Beef Wellington, Dauphinoise Potatoes and Yorkshire puddings.’

 

‘Beef Wellington?’

 

‘Yes.’

 

‘But..isn’t that what I said at the beginning?’

 

Spencer briefly looked confused, then shrugged, ‘No, I don’t recall that. I’m going to use roll-up pastry from the supermarket, it will be quite straightforward then I can concentrate on socialising and networking. I now know some facts about Stu’s hobbies and interests and I’m looking forward to exchanging information.’

 

There was something about this exchange which gave Vanessa a twinge of irritation and a wave of deja vu. She got up and pulled at the back of Spencer’s top. ‘You’re on normal man setting,’ she said, ‘of course you are and you’re acting just like a normal man.’

 

‘I am a normal man. You’re not allowed to decrease my operational settings to anything lower, not anymore, remember, I can only be a normal man, minimum.’

 

‘I know but you don’t have to act so much like one.’

 

‘I don’t know what you mean, Vanessa.’

 

‘Pretending that something is your idea when I suggested it right at the beginning, Beef Wellington, that’s what I said, before you disappeared into a two day long rabbit hole of recipe research.’

 

Spencer shrugged and shook his head. ‘I don’t think so,’

 

Vanessa felt deflated, crushed even. ‘It’s what my ex used to do, all of my exes actually,’ she snapped, ‘they never listened and then they’d have these eureka moments,’ she put her hands in the air and splayed out her fingers dramatically, ‘and simply repeat my own ideas back to me.’

 

‘You might be delusional. It’s common in women your age. Actually you’re the one behaving as if you’re having a,’ he held up his hands and mimicked her body language, ‘eureka moment. Luckily there’s only six seconds left of it and then we can relax again.’

 

She gave him a lingering look. His response to her felt almost like passive aggression but his face was expressionless, robotic and he didn’t appear to be gleaning any satisfaction from her distress. ‘That’s not what a eureka moment is, Spencer. I’m actually feeling quite upset right now.’

 

‘Oh,’ Spencer stepped forward and put his arm around her, ‘it wasn’t my intention to upset you. It looks as if we both had the same idea but you didn’t actually communicate it, you just thought of it. What that means is that we have a lot more in common than you might think and that we agree on things. I think this is positive for our marriage.’

 

Vanessa took a deep breath. There was no arguing with his logic. She briefly wondered whether to ask him to go back through his digital memory files and find the moment when she actually mentioned the words, Beef Wellington but it seemed like a silly request. Instead she leant into him. ‘Maybe,’ she sighed.

 

By the time Thursday evening came around, Vanessa resigned herself to putting full faith in Spencer. They had purchased all the ingredients so she just left him to it and went upstairs to get ready. When she came down to check on Spencer’s progress, he highlighted something which made her question her own priorities.

 

‘You’ve got all dressed up!’

 

‘Well, not really. I’ve changed my clothes.’

 

‘And put make-up on, you look so bright and you’ve done your hair, it’s all shiny, I can see that line between your boobs and why have you got high heels on. Are we going out?’

 

‘No, we’re staying in.’

 

‘Should I get changed too? I feel plain next to you.’ 

 

‘No, Spencer! You need to stay here and concentrate on the food. It all looks really good, very professional.’

 

‘Maybe this could be my job, in the future when I go out to work.’

 

Vanessa checked her reflection in the mirror and wondered whether she was overdressed. She questioned her own motivation for dressing up; it was what she’d always done, dolled herself up a bit for guests but this time she’d taken it a bit further. Her dress was quite low cut, her lipstick a red shade she didn’t normally wear. Was it for Stu? She picked up a tissue and wiped it off.

 

‘You don’t have to go to work. I will look after you. Anyway you don’t have a National Insurance Number.’

 

Spencer took a pause from rolling the fillet of beef up in the sheet of pastry, he turned around and held up his hand, all dusty from the flour he had scattered on the worktop. ‘We could motion the government over that,’ he said.

 

‘Mmmm. You should get that into the oven. I’m going to put on some different shoes.’

 

‘Just wear your slippers like you normally do.’

 

Slippers were not acceptable for a dinner party but the response of her husband had caused a rethink of her attire and she put on some low heels and a cardigan. There was some twisted desire deep inside her subconscious which was making her want this Stu character to find her attractive but she wasn’t sure why. Was it some one upmanship over Pat? Whatever it was, she now identified it as unnecessary and embarrassing behaviour. She was quite grateful to Spencer for calling it out and she somehow felt more confident now that she was slightly scruffy.

 

The doorbell rang. Vanessa rushed towards the hall while her husband remained in the kitchen as she opened the door and exchanged enthusiastic greetings with her guests. 

 

‘Oh lovely to meet you, Stu isn’t it. Please come in. Spencer’s just cooking.’

 

‘Wow, it smells wonderful,’ Pat lowered her voice, ‘I’ve explained it all to Stu, he knows everything about your other half.’ 

 

‘It’s all fine by me,’ Stu said, ‘quite fascinated by it actually.’

 

Vanessa nodded, unsure how to respond since his comment sounded patronising. ‘Good,’ she said, noting his appearance. He was a similar height to Pat, not very tall and he had the perverse look of a very well-groomed hippie; hair neat but longish at the back, smooth skin, a perfectly ironed shirt with a pristine tan leather waistcoat on top, open at the neck with a pendant dangling over his chest hair, some little tusk or perhaps a shark tooth. She remembered what Pat had said about him smelling nice, he really did, he smelled very expensive.

 

‘I’ve bought you a bottle of wine my dear,’ he said, handing it to Vanessa, ‘It’s from my favourite wine dealer, a four year old Burgundy from the northern Rhone, deep tart notes and jammy volatility,’ he leaned in and planted a dry, pecky kiss the Vanessa’s cheek.

 

‘Thank you,’ she said, ‘how lovely.’

 

‘Hello mate!’ Stu shouted obnoxiously as he looked over her shoulder towards the kitchen.

 

Spencer was now hovering in the doorway, clutching a tea towel and smiling the widest smile she had ever seen on him. ‘This is my husband, Spencer. He’s been very busy cooking for us.’

 

‘Great to see you again. Now I must get your name right today. Do you know, Stu, I keep calling him Wesley, I don’t know why.’ Pat threw her arms around Spencer and made a loud exaggerated kissing sound without actually kissing him at all.