Food for Love Read online

  Table Of Contents

  Other Books by C. Fonseca

  Dedication

  Acknowledgements

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Epilogue

  About C. Fonseca

  Other Books from Ylva Publishing

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  www.ylva-publishing.com

  Other Books by C. Fonseca

  Where the Light Plays

  Dedication

  For Jane and my sisters.

  In memory of our grandmothers, mothers, and aunts who shared their stories and their recipes, and who are my inspiration.

  Acknowledgements

  To many people the Bellarine Peninsula, where the story is set, is all about vineyards, restaurants, the sea, and the surf. But it is also a popular cycling destination, and home of Tour de France winner, Cadel Evans, who founded the annual professional Cadel Evans Great Ocean Road Race.

  The Bellarine is the traditional land of the Wathaurong tribe, and I acknowledge them as Traditional Owners. I pay my respect to their elders past and present.

  Thank you to my betas. Gill, your support and encouragement has been invaluable. I’m grateful to my friends Paula and Julie for their attention to detail and making this a better book.

  I am indebted to Astrid, Daniela, Amanda, Lee, and the Ylva team. Working with you on my second book—who would have thought it possible?—has been a pleasure. Michelle, my editor, was there for me when I needed her most—even though our time zones were out of sync. You were always patient and kept me focused on the essential ingredients.

  Thank you to my readers. I write about my little corner of the world: you live and read from far and wide. I am grateful for your comments and encouragement.

  Jane, I couldn’t have written this book without your love, persistence, and reassurance. I continue to learn from you daily. You are my shelter in a storm, my ray of sunshine on a cloudy day.

  When I initially thought about writing this book, I knew it would be an emotional journey. Cooking is a creative connection to my family and our heritage. Writing about food draws on childhood memories of cooking with my mother Theresa, Auntie Poppy, Auntie Olga, and my sisters.

  I am fortunate to live in Australia, with its culturally diverse population. When food is prepared and shared with love, it brings us together, nourishing our bodies and souls.

  Prologue

  In second position, with the French rider only fifteen seconds ahead and only dead-flat tarmac left to ride, Jess knew she had a good chance to win: her body soared with adrenaline, and she could almost taste victory.

  The one hundred and fifty-three-kilometre course had had multiple sections of bone-jarring cobblestones. She’d ridden her bike as hard as possible to smash the three steep artificial climbs and gained a favourable place in the lead group. But now, the canal city of Hoogeveen, where the Ronde van Drenthe race began and ended, was finally in sight.

  She hoped her team had made the right decision. Holding her back until now—picking up the workload for Jess so that she’d have fresh legs for these last three kilometres was a risky move. There was only a one-minute gap between the breakaway group up front and the approaching main field of riders. A team in that bunched-together group could still propel their lead sprint rider for a surprise dash to the finish line.

  It’s time. Jess pumped her legs hard. They rotated rhythmically—almost effortlessly, as though powered by an unknown source. No pain.

  “Go for it, Jess,” Bruce yelled from the support vehicle.

  No time for thinking. Jess was flying. Nerves like steel.

  It was within her reach. Jess would move up, overtake the lead rider, and win the race. There were only seconds between their wheels as they approached the final sprint. She could do this. For herself, and for her team.

  But then, before Jess could fully comprehend what was happening ahead, the lead rider’s bicycle kicked out from under her and wobbled, and she headed towards the barrier.

  “Watch out!” A warning blast in Jess’s earpiece from the team car came too late as the riderless bicycle flew in the opposite direction, across the road—towards Jess.

  In a flash, things became chaotic. A loud roar erupted from the crowd on the sidelines.

  As the mangled bicycle bounced across the road, Jess swerved, zigzagged, and desperately attempted to stop her slide, powerless to do anything but just hold on. Her bicycle shuddered when the missile clipped her front wheel, and she sailed head first over the handlebars. Oh hell.

  As Jess somersaulted into the air, she heard the whoosh of riders passing, then metal scraping on the ground, and then came the smell of burning rubber.

  She lay in a crumpled heap. Her leg stuck out at an awkward angle—entangled in the bicycle wheel. Her shoulder hurt like hell, and there was a strange numbness spreading down her arm.

  “Don’t move.”

  On her back, staring up at the sky—thick, grey clouds pressing down—Jess heard footsteps running towards her. She tried to lift her head.

  A hand rested lightly on her upper chest. “Stay still, Jess.” She recognised the voice of Bridget, the team doctor.

  Jess clenched her teeth. She was in pain—but she really wanted to win this. Get back on the bike. The finish is so close. Move, Jess. “I’m okay,” she murmured.

  “Sure. Sure, you are,” Bridget said. “Lie still so I can check you out.” She began to cut away at Jess’s skin suit.

  “Medic. Stretcher. Move, please,” one of the paramedics shouted.

  Jess attempted to roll onto her side and straighten her leg. It would be easier if she could lift her arm. Damn, it hurts.

  “Lie still,” Bridget repeated. “Jess, it’s okay. We’ve got you.”

  Jess grimaced when she glimpsed her twisted leg through the tattered remains of the red, blue, and white racing shorts. It finally dawned upon her that she was in trouble.

  She saw the dream of a win fade as blood from a large gash near her knee covered her leg and spread on the asphalt beneath her, and her vision blurred.

  Chapter 1

  London, England.

  “Ten more minutes, and we’re done,” said Cassie Jones, the rehab centre’s lead physiotherapist.

  As far as Jess was concerned, she was done half an hour ago. Ten minutes was an eternity. The once simple, painless act of pumping her legs on the stationary bicycle now felt like hours of climbing the steepest course in the Alps.

  Finally, Cassie moved beside her to indicate the session was over, and she slowed to a stop. Jess pushed her sodden hair from her eyes and wiped her forehead with the back of her sleeve. She glanced down at the hand that rested on her thigh, avoiding eye contact with Cassie. “You
are right. I am so done.” Jess sighed. It had been another gruelling afternoon session of physical therapy, stretching, and exercise.

  Cassie moved even closer and dragged her hand from Jess’s thigh down to the hem of her shorts. She traced the thin, raised line across her bare knee and gave her a slow smile. “You’re doing way better than we expected. It won’t be long before you’re back out there, collecting another bunch of medals.”

  “Sure.” Jess slid off the exercise machine and walked haltingly across the room. She reached for the towel and mopped at her face and neck. As the nagging pull of self-doubt and worry gnawed at her stomach, Jess doubled over, leaning heavily on the balance bar. How long would it be before she was back to her old self? Before she got back to racing, got back her rhythm, and regained her full strength? What if she didn’t?

  Jess pushed herself upright and pulled the towel over her head. She wasn’t ready to face the possibility of never being able to race again.

  “Hey, are you okay?” Cassie snaked her arm around Jess’s shoulder. “You’ll feel better after you’ve had a shower. Then, since you are my last client today, you could join me down at the Rose and Crown for a drink or two. How about it, Jess? You deserve it.”

  A protein smoothie in front of the television had seemed like a good option, but it was Friday night, and Cassie was high-spirited and a lot of fun away from the rehab clinic. She glanced up into the woman’s eager hazel eyes.

  Jess shook her head and stepped back, out of Cassie’s embrace. “Hmm…sorry. I really am done. You’ve worn me out.”

  “Oh. That’s my fault.” Cassie frowned. “Serves me right, then. Maybe some other time?”

  “Maybe,” Jess said. “Tonight’s not a good night for me anyway. My sponsors arranged an appearance at South Ham Ladies’ College tomorrow, and I haven’t yet prepared my presentation.”

  “No problem, Jess. That is perfectly understandable. Another time. Good luck with your preparations.” She smiled and backed away. “You do like to cut things fine.”

  Jess collected her gear and dragged herself to the locker room. What is wrong with me? It was Friday night, and she had just turned down a date. Her social life was in the doldrums, and she couldn’t seem to pull herself out of this negative space. She sighed. This wouldn’t have happened a few months ago.

  But the truth was Jess knew that after a couple of drinks, she’d end up blubbering on Cassie’s shoulder, recounting the devastating news about Ben’s recent death. She didn’t need that. Anyway, it wouldn’t be a good idea to start something with her physiotherapist.

  Jess hated public speaking, but being here wasn’t just about maintaining a favourable image or giving supporters a return for their investment. It was about giving back. She put down her notes and lowered her gaze to the auditorium across the sea of young faces.

  Today, she was addressing three hundred teenage girls about herself and her career. Well, what’s left of it. Jess’s passion and commitment to the sport was her driving force, encouraging women to get active and make cycling part of their lives.

  Nearing the end of her presentation, Jess drew a bolstering breath. “I’m taking a break in my pro cycling career because of the injuries I sustained in the Netherlands.” She didn’t have to recount the details of the crash or the extent of her injuries—that would be pointless and unnecessarily distressing for her audience. She clutched the podium tightly and forced herself to focus on the students.

  She tried to ignore the restless movements of some of the girls who clearly had more important things on their minds. Jess couldn’t expect everyone to be engrossed in her talk. Overall, though, they were curious about her life as an elite cyclist. She answered their questions and incorporated a short account of the list of races she had won—her Palmarès—and about some of the famous, colourful characters she’d met on the international circuit.

  “Enough about me,” Jess said. “I’m here today to tell you about a nationwide scheme. Un-Chained is an organisation that encourages girls and women of all fitness levels to participate in the joy of cycling.” When Jess glanced around the room, she noticed the intense look from a young student in the front row. She sat bolt upright in the chair and her lips set in a straight line. Too thin, Jess thought. Did she suffer from lack of self-esteem and anxiety as Jess had at her age?

  “Cycling is an incredible sport,” Jess continued. “You can do it on your own—you can do it with a group of friends. It’s great for fitness. It gives you the physical preparation, emotional strength, and mental toughness through life to deal with the unexpected. Do it just for fun or take it further. Competitive cycling can take you all around the world. Participating in one of Un-Chained’s activities is an opportunity to make new friends, experience an amazing sense of freedom, and build your self-confidence.” Jess pointed to the table by the main entrance of the auditorium. “Please, help yourself to the information packs outlining our programmes. Registration forms are inside.”

  “You have all been wonderfully attentive.” Jess smiled. “Thank you so much for inviting me to your school today. Good luck. You never know—I may see some of you on the circuit one day. You’ll have to catch me if you can.” Jess gave a slight bow at the waist to a hall full of giggling girls.

  She collected her notes as the students rose to their feet and showed their appreciation with polite applause. They filed out of the hall, and Jess noticed the girl who’d earlier drawn her attention pick up one of the information packs and tuck it under her arm.

  Jess glanced down at her watch. “Okay, I did it,” she told herself. Even if she’d managed to reach only one person today, it was worth the effort. The appearance had gone better than she’d hoped, and Doctor Waters would be pleased. Her rehabilitation psychologist encouraged Jess to stay connected with the cycling community and continue her volunteer work while she recuperated. Today was another step in the right direction.

  Heels clicked authoritatively on the wooden stage. The dean was fast approaching with her hand outstretched. Dressed in a smart navy business suit, with her platinum hair pulled into a daring topknot bun, her every move spoke of strength and assuredness.

  “Thank you, Ms Harris. It was a real pleasure. The girls will benefit greatly from your knowledge and experience.” Her eyes danced with interest as she glanced over Jess from head to toe. “And humour.”

  “It’s been my pleasure, Dean Holcombe.”

  “Please call me Kathryn.”

  “Thank you, Kathryn,” Jess replied. Uncomfortable under the dean’s scrutinising gaze, Jess shifted her weight from one foot to the other. She’d dressed in a classic white button-down shirt and tailored black linen suit to present as professional and capable, but as Jess stood in front of the dean, she was back at school and fourteen years old again.

  “If you’re free later this evening, would you care to join me for dinner?” Kathryn asked. Her imposing voice pulled Jess from her thoughts. Had the dean truly invited her out for dinner?

  Jess cleared her throat. “I’m sorry. That would have been lovely, but I have an engagement this evening.”

  Kathryn smoothed her skirt with one hand. She didn’t quite manage to hide her disappointment. “Never mind. Perhaps another time. It’s been a pleasure to finally meet you.”

  “Thank you for the invitation, and for the opportunity to address your students. I hope I’ve sparked their interest in cycling.”

  Kathryn arched an eyebrow. “I’m sure you’ve sparked their interest,” she said.

  Jess reached behind the podium to collect her trench coat and briefcase as she surreptitiously looked towards the nearest exit. She’d raced at the elite level for over six years, and despite her manager’s official announcement about the respite in her professional career, reporters still followed her about, hoping for a snapshot that showed her in some vulnerable or compromising position.

  As Jess made
her way to the door, she looked back at Kathryn, who was still watching her. Jess nodded and smiled once again before she left the building. If she hadn’t made plans for an early supper with Jonathan, maybe she would have accepted the dean’s invitation.

  Thankfully, the spacious ground-floor bar was still relatively empty, and Jess easily located Jonathan seated at a table for two at the back of the room.

  When he noticed Jess, Jonathan stood up and moved towards her. “Here you are at last.”

  She smiled, comforted to see his welcoming face. “I am sorry I’m late.” She unbuckled her trench coat, slipped it off her shoulders, and threw it over the back of the chair that he pulled out for her. “You look so different without your beard.” Jess leaned forward and ran her fingers along his angular jaw line. “What made you finally shave it off? You’ve had it for years.”

  Jonathan rubbed his chin. “Maxine. She gave me an ultimatum. Either I cover the beard when I’m near Rupert or shave it off. It was giving him a rash.”

  “Well, it suits you. You look handsome. Who’d have thought becoming a father would shave a few years off you?”

  “Thank you.” With a low chuckle, Jonathan drew Jess into his arms, and she held on tightly, enjoying the strength of her friend’s embrace. “How are you?”

  Jess released him. “I feel so lost,” she said, and settled into the chair. “I still can’t get my head around what’s happened. I can’t believe Ben’s gone.” She stared down at her hands to avoid the look of sympathy she saw crossing Jonathan’s face. “God, I literally have no family left now.”

  “You have us, Jess. Me and Maxine,” he said.

  Jess looked up and held his gaze.

  “Wine?” Jonathan didn’t wait for her response. He poured it into a glass and placed it in front of her.

  “Just what I need.” Jess gulped a generous mouthful. Anything to relax the jittery, sick feeling in the pit of her stomach.