OYSTERS AND ZABALIOGNE

'Oysters. OYSTERS! Pushing the boat out a bit aren't you mate?' Bodie stared at his partner as Doyle carefully scrutinised the fish counter.

'It's Betty isn't it? You've pulled Betty haven't you?' He chortled with delight and playfully punched Doyle on the arm. 'Soft lights, champagne, good food. Well done my little stud muffin.'

Doyle turned to face him. 'You, Bodie, need to get out more and stop thinking that everyone behaves like you', he said severely.

Bodie's blue eyes sparkled with merriment. 'What are you cooking then, to impress the Ice Maiden? How will you melt her cool reserve and ignite the passion that burns beneath that smart business suit? I know, I know – dark chocolate cheesecake!' Bodie smacked his lips as the thought of such a decadent dessert.

'Actually, I'm doing garlic mushrooms for starters, seafood paella for the main course, and zabaglione for dessert. Now can you stop fantasising about Betty . . .'

Bodie almost drooled. 'Hmm, she'll melt into your arms after that lot. Paella – never forget the first time I had that. Loved it at first bite. I love garlic mushrooms too. Zabaglione? That's a new one on me . . ..'

Doyle interrupted his salivating partner. 'Lemons, eggs and double cream with some Marsala wine, he said. Bodie sighed with delight at the thought of so much food.

Doyle continued his way round the supermarket, checking his list while Bodie kept a running commentary on how the evening with Betty could develop. Being Bodie, he naturally took things to the limit.

'Hope you've cleaned the place up,' he remarked. 'Betty's only used to the best. Don't forget to put fresh towels in the bathroom, for afterwards'. Bodie's face crinkled up with glee at the thought of Betty and Doyle 'afterwards'! Clean duvet, Ray! Candles! You'll need candles, Scented ones!'

Doyle levelled his green eyes and stared hard at his partner. 'You are supposing a lot', he said. 'I never said I was going out with Betty, or cooking dinner for her.'

'Ah, but your menu speaks volumes sunshine. This is not comfort food. This is food to turn a girl's head. Food to make her show her gratitude to you in ways you've only dreamed of! This is getting inside Betty's bodice food! Don't deny it mate, I know you too well. You'll turn up for work tomorrow hollow eyed, unshaven and looking like the cat who got the cream.'

'I may well,' Doyle agreed, 'but because I'll have spent the night washing up, NOT because of Betty.'

They reached the check out, and began to unload the trolley. The young girl began to swipe the items through the checkout. Doyle was still engrossed in his list, and paid scant attention to Bodie whose imagination had clearly gone into overdrive.

'I wonder how long it will take the statuesque Betty to melt in your arms. Before or after the zaba whatever. Have you planned breakfast in bed too?' he asked slyly. 'Murph won't be happy. He's been after her for ages, and yet you, you skinny little waif just march in and sweep her away on a cloud of garlic mushrooms and oysters!'

Doyle shot him an exasperated look. 'Blimey, you won't rest until you know will you?' he huffed.

Bodie cackled. At last he'd gotten under Ray's skin enough for him to spill the beans. Victory was sweet, and Bodie meant to savour it slowly before broadcasting the news of Doyle's conquest around the rest room.

'What's today.' snapped Doyle, as he handed over his debit card to the checkout girl.

Bodie stopped laughing and thought. 'April 24th.' He said.

'And what's that', asked Doyle in a voice one uses with a small child.

'It's my birthday', replied Bodie slowly, 'I'd clean forgotten.'

'Well, I hadn't,' retorted his partner, 'dinner at my place. 7.00pm tonight, Casual dress.' Doyle broke into a wide chipped tooth grin as Bodie suddenly realised that all this was for him.

'Ray. mate, thank you so much,' he gasped. 'I don't know what to say . . .' His mouth crinkled into a boyish grin. 'Well perhaps you can forget about the scented candles', he said.

The End