A Taste for Life by Unknown

Author:Unknown
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 0000000000000
Published: 2021-10-01T01:00:22+00:00

In the warm glow of the embers, the glimmer of an opportunity, driven by a burning ambition

Chapter 10

Fire at the Seven Spur

‘A LLEN, ALLEN !’ said the voice on the line, cutting into the quiet of a Sunday night in our little bungalow above Second Beach, Clifton. I could hardly blame Reina, every time the phone rang on what was supposed to be my day of rest, for thinking that I was married first and foremost to my work. I had grown used to putting out fires in the business, but I could tell from the caller’s tone that this was a bigger than usual emergency. It wasn’t a staff member swigging leftover wine from a table, or a customer trying to sneak out without settling their bill. (That had happened one night at Golden Spur, when I saw a young guy walking backwards towards the exit, like a film clip playing in reverse. ‘Hey!’ I shouted, and I called him over to pay it forward. I realised he must have done this a few times before – he was that practised at the routine.) Now, as I grabbed my keys and headed for the door, I echoed the urgent communiqué that was sending me on my way. ‘Seven Spur,’ I told Reina, ‘is burning down.’

My headlights swept the curves from Clifton to Sea Point, the city shining up ahead, the waiting ships casting a faint flicker on the dark water. It was just after 10 pm on the ebb-tide of the weekend, the ideal time to breathe in, breathe out, take stock, and reflect on what the busy new week would hold in store. But all I could think of as I sped towards London Road, was the poor relative, the problem child, in our growing portfolio of classic South African steak ranches. Seven Spur.

The name was a tribute to the original Seven Steer House of Steaks in Highlands North, where I had served my apprenticeship as a waiter during my student years, learning everything I could about running a restaurant. I remembered driving my Mini up and down Beach and Main roads in Sea Point, as a prospective junior franchisee, searching for a suitable site for a steakhouse, within sight and scent of the raging Atlantic. But life sometimes takes a funny turn, leading you forward to new frontiers, at the same time as it doubles you all the way back to where you started. We were still putting the finishing touches to what would become the Golden Spur, far from the sea in an arcade in Newlands, when I got a call from a shrewd commercial estate agent named Tolly Novick.

‘Allen,’ he said, ‘I’ve found the perfect place for you. It’s on the first floor of a block on London Road. When can you come by and take a look?’ It was like jockeying your horse down the final straight of the race, with the finish in sight, only to have the favourite come charging past you … in the opposite direction.

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