"I think it needs a little bit more sugar, darling," Richard suggested. The boy desperately tried to keep a smile on his face. He was surprisingly convincing given how abysmal the concoction Darjeeling had conceived tasted. It looked nothing like compote. It looked more like pitch.

Richard Stanfield had finally decided to confront Darjeeling's ability to cook, or lack thereof. Several attempts were made, but the boy ultimately realized that the hand of a professional was needed. Enter Jacques Laurent, Jack, the Stanfield family chef and one of the best in Europe – self-proclaimed. Regardless of the validity of his claims, Jack was a spectacular cook and, no matter how much of his craft he had taught Richard, sublimely better suited to teach Darjeeling. Unfortunately, things didn't go as smoothly as Richard had originally planned.

"Jesus Christ! This dish has so much oil, the US want to invade!" Jack cried. He was very harsh, many times more than he had been with Richard, but Darjeeling was a different kind of student. Even salads appeared to be beyond her ability to create. But she would not give up. Perseverance was in her blood.

"A tad less salt, sweetheart." Richard put the fork back in the salad platter. Darjeeling's second attempt at food was less likely to turn into poison, but just as likely to be uneatable. Compared to his chef, Richard was like honey. He had to accept Jack's conditions – the man would not have it any other way – but the young Stanfield wasn't exactly happy with them. He didn't very much enjoy how harsh the chef was with Darjeeling, but he trusted him implicitly. Jack was not just an ordinary servant for the Stanfield household, he was a friend.

"Are you trying to reenact the Chernobyl disaster?!" Jack yelled. "Don't put ketchup on it!" Darjeeling's lack of common sense at cooking was surprising, especially given she didn't seem to lack it in any other domain. It was almost comedic, as if taken from a sitcom.

"Don't put tea in it, Darjeeling!" Richard grabbed her hand, saving the soup from certain destruction.

"Oh, I'm sorry," Darjeeling said. Her face betrayed nothing. She seemed as bright and happy as always, completely unaffected by constant failure and the harsh words thrown at her. Richard couldn't read anything but pure tenacity in her demeanor.

"My God… it looks like you dropped napalm on it," Jack said.

"Err… let's take a break," suggested Richard.

"Very well," said Darjeeling. "Then I'm off to take a quick shower." The girl left the kitchen, leaving the two lads to contemplate on their failure.

"I'm starting to think it's a lost cause," Richard said. He wiped the sweat off his brow. The kitchen was brimming with heat.

"What? Don't stop now! She's actually improving," said Jack.

"Really?" At a glance, the man didn't seem to lie. He had no reason to. "I didn't notice. Guess that's why you're the chef and I'm not." Richard chuckled.

"Don't put yourself down, you're a decent chef."

"You sure you want to continue?" Richard stood up. Jack remained seated at the table. The smell of food permeated the room.

"Hey, when else will I get to pretend I'm Gordon Ramsey?"

"OK, let's have a taste," said Richard. The boy slowly brought the spoon to his lips, not very eager to taste it, but trying to look confident. Darjeeling gazed at him, wide-eyed with enthusiasm, awaiting his conclusion. He munched on the omelet for half a second. His expression was blank… then a smile crept on his face.

"This is actually pretty good!" Richard exclaimed. "You've done it, dear!"

"Oh, jolly day!" Darjeeling said. "You know the saying: if at first you don't succeed, try and try again." The girl's smile had grown even warmer.

Jack took a spoonful as well. His aggressive mask was instantly off. His job was complete. "Congratulations, my girl. You've outdone yourself," he said. His tone was sweet, a shocking contrast to his previous bitterness. The unending frown on Jack's face was gone, replaced by a smile that suited him much better.

"With no little help from you. Thank you kindly," said Darjeeling, proud of her accomplishments. "Now I'll cook for Richard, not the other way around."

"But I like cooking," said Richard.

"No buts!" Darjeeling insisted. "Can't wait to tell the girls."

"We've pacified the lethal chef," Jack said to himself.