A Dish Best Served Cold
Bitter black coffee
I remember the first time I met Peter and I wish I'd known then what I know now. It was quite a big deal, us meeting him. Joanna had told us so much about him but this was the first time she'd persuaded him to come and meet 'the parents'. Silly I know, but I'd got myself into a bit of a state about it. It should have been him on approval to see if he was good enough for our darling daughter, but I found myself wanting to make a good impression.
Perhaps I should have stuck to something simple, but I'd heard so much about his exotic life travelling all over the world that I decided to make paella – a dish I'd never attempted before. I bought the ingredients well in advance and had a practise so hadn't completely taken leave of my sense.Then Joanna called on the morning to say he couldn't make Sunday lunch after all. Some business problem of Peter's. I should have been suspicious then, I suppose. Anyway, he didn't come until Friday and by then the seafood had gone a funny colour and smelled, well I don't choose to remember how it smelled. I made a cottage pie that seemed to go down well.
Since then, Peter has let down our lovely Joanna, time after time. We learnt why when his wife turned up. That's the wife in Spain, she tracked down his English wife and the French one.
I wished I'd known that rancid seafood is toxic. I'd have fed him the lot.
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