b'Ridhi Kotecha 05:20. My hand trembles as I slip it between my lips. I have to flick the spark wheel several times before it manages to ignite a flame and light the tip. I inhale deeply, closing my eyes as I feel the smoke rushing into my lungs, trapping it there, letting it reacquaint itself with my cells, letting it seep into my soul. I exhale with a long sigh, open my eyes and watch the smoke circle away into the clouds drifting by. Its been four months since I quit. Four months since I lost my husband. Its almost time to go inside and open up, but I still have time for another one, another breath of fresh air.05:26. I always get here forty minutes before my staff arrive. I need that quiet time in the morning, alone, to myself. I need time to sharpen my knives and prepare myself for the unwelcome questions and publicity, the infamous what is your secret ingredient? Like a magician never reveals their magic trick, a chef never reveals their secret ingredient. I never used to have a secret ingredient, not until a couple of months ago. Ive been getting a lot of nosy interviewers asking me about my personal life ever since it was unveiled that my husband had gone missing and has now been presumed dead. Theyre so full of shit, acting like they care, giving me pity. They dont care. They just want some juice, something new to write about, another story to make the headlines and their dirty, dirty money. I hate reporters, they thrive off other peoples misery. Everyone expected me to hit rock bottom when he went missing, but I didnt, I just kept going and I just got better. I even made the front page in a bunch of newspapers as Widow Turns Death Into Delicacies. Then suddenly, everybody started asking me what is your secret ingredient? I never spilled the beans though, Ive always been somewhat of a clean-freak.05:58. My staff should be arriving anytime soon. Ive opened everything up, checked all the surfaces and ordered todays ingredients fresh from the market. Im a vegetarian, I always have been; the idea of serving dead animals to people honestly disgusts me - Id rather serve human flesh. All of my restaurants serve vegetarian food only.06:00. My first member of staff has arrived, Rose. Shes always the first one to come. Shes a lot like me, much prettier though. We used to be close when my husband was around. We arent anymore. My husband introduced us at a party at his house a couple of years ago, she used to cater a lot for his mothers parties. She was looking for a job back then and, coincidentally, I had just fired my sous-chef and gave her a chance at taking his spot - she was brilliant and has been with me ever since.06:03. The other staff start trickling in now, heading straight towards the sink. Its like watching a line of ants hurry towards the spilt honey. I detest dirty hands. I always tell my staff that they must have hands clean enough to perform an operation on somebody.06:10. Everyone is ready at their stations. This time four months ago my husband was still in our bed, fast asleep. I would make fresh crpes with jam for him every morning before I left for work, it was his favourite thing to eat. He only went to work around eight oclock. By the time hed come back, Id be asleep. We open up for breakfast at seven oclock. I start writing my newest creations, The Specials up on the board. Savouries: Blackberry Brie Omelette, Basque Potato and Camembert Frittata, Baked Egg Danish with Kimchi and Spinach. Sweets: Brioche French Toast with Vanilla-Bean Ice Cream, Chilled Blueberry Soup, Coconut Cream Muffins. I love creating new and weird dishes, throwing in the unexpected ingredient, not sticking by the recipeI cook like I live my life. Well, at least like I used to live my life. Everything has changed now, ever since he disappeared. I feel guilty, all the time. But at least my cooking got better, I mean, ever since I got back in the kitchen after you know I became a starA sensation. I have my own special freezer now, in my office, no one has access to it except me, its where I keep all my stuff for The Specialsmy secret ingredient.10:50. The last customers should be leaving around now, we open-up again at one oclock for lunch. I normally stay at the restaurant till then, I never used to go home for lunch, its not like Id have anyone to eat with anyways. Rose would always leave for lunch though, she doesnt anymore now, not since the past couple of months. Its always just the two of us now, lingering behind. She doesnt speak to me, and if we happen to make eye contact, she darts her eyes elsewhere very quickly. She seems nervous nowadays.37'