The night after my dinner at Claridges, I had twelve people coming for dinner. It had been the perfect date. The sort you dream about. A real life person who knows people I know, and who has even met my ex husband on a professional level. But it all felt like it happened to another person now.
Funny how life can change in an instant. Fear prickled up the back of my neck as the door slammed. The chocolate cake was cooling on the kitchen table - the second one - the first time, I was so discombobulated that I added twice the quantity of sugar and had to throw it away. The patatas haras had just the right touch of har and the muhammara contained the exact amount of absolutely no ham but was as red as its name promised. Howevertthe tomato tart had turned as soggy as I had, while the aubergines and I had both grown cold. I wanted to ring everyone up and say 'don't come'. But the table was set, the wine was opened, the paella was cooking, very unevenly, on the stove and the doorbell was already ringing.
The show went on.
But let me tell you. Sometimes my acting skills impress me.
