Maddie watched him as he served, and she poured herself a glass of water when her father topped up his glass of wine.

He was by no means a natural chef but he had a good grip of several dishes, recipes his wife had excelled at and insisted he learned. Whenever possible, if he had the time and energy, he cooked the food he had grown up with to keep hold of that heritage for Maddie. 'Doenjang jjigae,' he said, ladling the stew onto the rice. 'What's this?' she asked absent-mindedly as her father spooned rice onto two deep plates. Maddie wrapped her cardigan tighter around herself and pulled the sleeves down over the heels of her palms.

She padded into the room in overstretched socks that sagged around her ankles, worn out after years of use and washing.Īs the evening drew on, the air cooled and though it was still light outside, dark rainclouds loomed on the horizon. 'Supper's ready,' Jung-min called from the kitchen, holding up an empty plate to beckon Maddie away from the comfort of the sofa. Rather, she loved Hugh Grant and would watch anything he was in, and though her father wasn't much of a fan, he would always just go with the flow if only to keep the peace. Maddie couldn't always remember which was which, the plots and characters melting into, but she loved them all. There had been the occasional disparity of opinion, and Maddie wasn't nearly as level-headed as her father, but for the most part they were a perfectly matched father daughter team.Ī Hugh Grant film was about to start playing on BBC 2. Her earliest memories began around the age of four, her recollection not quite reaching the years she had shared with her mother, and as far as she knew, she and her father had always existed in peaceful harmony. In her twenty years, Maddie couldn't recall a time she and her father had ever properly argued.

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