Atkins?’ I said, bending forward to look in the open passenger window. ‘What are you doing out here by yourself?’ He leaned forward, resting hi... arm on the empty seat. ‘I thought it was a nice night to walk,’ I wiped the drying tears off my cheeks with the back of my hand. ‘Where’s Jonathan?’ ‘Ha, Jonathan? I don’t give a shit where that piece of shit is,’ I huffed, standing up. ‘What happened?’ he asked, leaning closer to the open window. I couldn’t answer. I just shook my head and. I wasn’t bright enough to be able to sit for a university place, much to my parents dismay, but I had shown this remarkable talent for cooking. With me professing that this was what I wanted to do, they agreed to fund me to attend Derwent College which was basically a school for aspiring chefs located in Stanmore. So at the age of eighteen, I left home to attend this college for the next two years. It wasn’t really a college per se, but an old hotel that had been adapted to take in twenty. More

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