Chapter Text
May
“That bastard Leo!” Violet sobbed, her phone sticky against her tearstained cheek. “How could he do this to me? That utter, utter... bastard!”
“Yes, it’s awful!” Evie’s voice was still trying for soothing and sympathetic, but after an hour on the phone, Violet could sense that it was costing her elder sister some effort. “It’s shameful the way he’s treated you. And pathetic, really. If he was going to break up with you, he should have had the guts to do it properly before he got involved with Catherine.”
“That’s not the point!” spluttered Violet, trying to catch her breath. “He shouldn’t have gone anywhere near that skinny bitch! Let alone slept with her. He’s my FIANCÉ. How could he dump me after all these years? I know him better than anyone does... or I thought I did... that BASTARD!”
“I know. Of course he shouldn’t have done it. But... Do you think maybe... maybe that’s the reason he broke up with you?” said Evie tentatively. “Because you know each other too well?”
If this was sympathy, Violet didn’t think much of it. “How could I know him too well? That’s just ridiculous.”
“You’ve been going out since you were kids, more or less...”
“Yes!” broke in Violet. “We’ve always been perfect together! Everyone’s always said we’re perfect!”
“Mmm... you’ve been engaged a long time, too... Maybe the, um, mystique just wore off?” At this, Violet broke out into renewed sobbing and sniffling.
“Look, Vi, I know it hurts now, but… You know what I think? I think you’ll look back on this one day and think it was for the best.”
“The BEST?” Violet could hardly believe her ears. “How can it be for the best? It’s the end of everything!”
“You’re both still so young. Leo’s only twenty-four. I don’t suppose most of his friends have settled down yet.”
“What difference does it make what his friends do? Leo’s DIFFERENT from them.”
“Is he?”
“I don’t KNOW!” wailed Violet, fumbling for the tissues. “I thought so. I thought I knew him inside out! But I never thought he’d throw everything away for the sake of shagging that bitch. I thought he was shy around her... How could I not see it coming?”
“You said he said he was in love with her?”
“THINKS he’s in love with her.” Violet gulped down the latest sob, swallowed, then frowned. “He doesn’t know what she’s like. She’ll eat him for breakfast.”
“Well, if you’re right, he might come crawling back.”
“I don’t know if I WANT him to come crawling back.”
“What do you want?”
“I just want things to be how they were before! I want this never to have happened. I want that... that skinny, smart-arse, leggy bitch never to have come near us. I want to see her suffer... And him, too. I want him to know how he’s made me feel.”
“Oh, Vi.”
“Don’t you ‘oh Vi’ me, Evie. Didn’t you feel like this when you were dumped?”
“Honestly, Vi? Not really. But it wasn’t the same, I know. We hadn’t been going out nearly as long.”
“That’s NINE years of my life he’s pissed up the wall...” wailed Violet, with mingled pain and fury.
“Hey. Breathe, Vi. I know it’s awful...”
“The things I’ve done for that stupid boy! He’s been everything to me... Just for him to... turn around and stomp on my heart like this!”
“He is behaving like a stupid boy. Maybe think of him that way and it’ll help. Hey, Vi, I know it feels like it, but your life isn’t over. You’re only twenty-three! You’re intelligent, you’re capable, you’re cute... you’ll get through this.”
“I feel pretty stupid. And certainly not cute.” Violet glanced at her sore pink cheeks and tear-reddened eyes in the mirror across the room. “And Catherine isn’t cute, she’s bloody gorgeous.”
“You can’t compare herself with her. You’ve got a lot going for you and if Leo was prepared to risk what you had, then he is not worth crying over. Now - I think you need to go and take a hot bath or something and look after yourself a bit. And do NOT go on social media just yet. At least you’re not working this weekend. Do you want me to call back later?”
“Yes.” Violet took a deep breath. “And... Evie, can you bring Mum up to date? I don’t think I can bear going through it again today.”
Later that Saturday afternoon, showered, rested, wearing her newest jeans and a nice top, and armed with a cup of coffee and a therapeutic bar of chocolate, Violet took a deep breath and surveyed her situation. Since she had discovered her fiancé and flatmate in each other’s arms the previous night, she had been in too much of a state of shock to consider what to do. But the situation was seriously awkward. She and Catherine had only recently renewed the rent agreement on their flat, and it would cost money to get out of it, money that Violet currently couldn’t spare. On moral grounds, she felt that Catherine ought to be the one to move out, but from the little she knew of Catherine and her selfish ways, it didn’t seem likely she’d do that. And... there was the issue of Catherine being the only daughter of Violet’s boss.
Violet worked part-time as a contract chef for an events catering company, and was working towards starting her own business as a private cook and nutritionist. Catherine’s mother Irene owned the company, which was still Violet’s sole source of income; now that she couldn’t ask Leo for any help and support, she was going to need everything she could scrape together to launch her business. Irene had been nothing but nice to her, almost a mentor, but getting into a dispute with her daughter? Violet couldn’t see that being a very good idea, especially as she was dependent on Irene’s professional network for job opportunities and references. Antagonising Irene would be plain stupid. Never mind that Catherine had callously stolen Violet’s boyfriend; Catherine was hardly likely to describe the situation exactly that way to her mother.
So, Violet could suggest that Catherine move out, but if she didn’t, then Violet was stuck for now.
As for Leo... She thought of Leo, her tall, good-looking, easy-going, warm-hearted Leo, and almost started crying again. How could he do this to her, after all their time together? She knew that they were a mismatched couple to look at. He was tall, lean and darkly handsome, with a brooding air that disguised shyness; she was shortish, curvy verging on sturdy, with fluffy waves of dark-blonde hair that straighteners could never fully tame. She knew she wasn’t ugly, but cute rather than beautiful, definitely in the “girl next door” class. Literally, since they’d met as teenagers when Leo’s family moved in next door to hers.
Most of their friends didn’t know that Leo had once looked very different. When they were both fourteen, Violet’s new neighbour had still been short for his age, round-faced and chubby, with an awkward grin that showed braces on uneven teeth. At that age Violet looked... well, not too different from how she looked now: curvy for fourteen, pretty rather than stunning, and already at her full adult height, such as it was. She and Leo had quickly bonded over the course of a summer and when school started in September, she’d been his guide and protector. Leo had been bullied at his previous school, and for the remainder of high school he’d stuck close to Violet and her group. Over the next three years, Leo’s looks had changed dramatically, starting with a significant growth spurt. He’d discovered weight training; with Violet’s support he’d ditched crisps and fizzy drinks and taken up healthier eating habits, and left his ugly duckling phase behind. Despite this transformation, which Violet felt was almost as much her achievement as his, he’d stayed loyal to her through their student years and onwards. Up until now.
Catherine. It all came down to that bitch Catherine. Catherine was tall and willowy and had shiny dark hair that always bounced perfectly round her shoulders; she had flawless, creamy skin and wide dark eyes; and although it would have been satisfying to think she was just a pretty face, that wasn’t true – Violet had heard Irene talking proudly about her top degree from Durham University and her placement on the fast track at a law firm. Besides which, Catherine had the confidence that went with being the precious only daughter of well-heeled parents. She could wear skirt suits and not look like she was going to a job interview, rock a cocktail dress and never look overdressed, or throw on jeans and a T-shirt and look perfectly styled, not frumpy. She and Leo would look like a matched set, for sure. Violet sighed, but it almost turned into a growl. How was a short, slightly stocky, frizzy-haired cook supposed to compete with that?
Violet felt a deep, aching desire to hurt Catherine back somehow, though it was hard to see how. She barely knew Catherine as a person, though they’d been sharing a flat for a year; Violet’s best friend from university, Sally, was Catherine’s cousin. That was how Violet knew Irene and Catherine in the first place. When Violet thought back to Sally suggesting Catherine as an answer to her flatmate search, she recalled Sally saying that she’d have to watch out for Catherine’s man-hunting tendencies. At the time Violet had thought Sal simply meant Catherine would bring a lot of men home, not that she’d encroach on Violet’s territory. How naive. How stupid she had been.
She looked across at her neatly made double bed. Well, if it turned out Catherine wouldn’t leave, Leo could certainly move out of this bedroom. Though most of her anger was directed at Catherine, she knew Leo was no innocent victim; he had slept with Catherine and then kept quiet about it for days. What if Violet hadn’t caught them? How long would the deception have gone on? She reclaimed a cardboard box from the recycling pile, reassembled and taped it and began opening drawers and filling the box with Leo’s stuff. The books and albums were hardest. They’d bought so many of them together over the years that it was hard to remember whose were whose, originally. She picked up a framed picture of the two of them together and took the back off, meaning to remove the picture, or at least turn it around for a bit.
Violet’s heart lurched in her chest. Underneath the recent photo was an old one, a snap of Leo in school uniform, aged fifteen or sixteen maybe. The contrast with the Leo of today was striking. No braces on his teeth by then, but he still had round chipmunk cheeks and his white shirt looked a tiny bit too short in the sleeves, and a little bit tight on his chunky body. But his smile was innocent and sweet. I just wish I had that Leo back, Violet thought. I already loved him when he was still a fixer-upper, before he turned into Mr Gorgeous.
Then she thought, I bet if Leo was still fat, then Catherine would never have looked twice at him.
Over the next few days, the flat-dwellers settled into an uneasy truce. Not at all to Violet’s surprise, Catherine wanted to stay. As she was already renting the larger bedroom, Catherine said Leo would move in with her, and she seemed to think that allowing Violet to keep paying an unchanged rent for her own room was a favour, since it was now single-occupancy. The word “single” burned in Violet's ears. While Violet hadn’t confronted Catherine woman to woman about stealing Violet’s boyfriend, Catherine seemed to her to be wearing an aura of put-on innocence and Violet had no doubt that if asked, she would claim that Leo had made the first move. Which was what Leo was saying too… but Violet didn’t believe him for a minute.
Violet couldn’t adjust to the new situation. Every day when she woke up, just for a moment she wouldn’t remember, and then she realised Leo wasn’t beside her and reality came crashing in. And every waking minute she dwelt on it. She couldn’t get used to Leo not being around to talk to when she came home; of course, he was keeping a very low profile indeed. But even when he was hiding out in Catherine’s bedroom, she always knew when he was in the flat, and knowing he had left her, yet not gone away was excruciating. She’d thought she might have to keep clear of the living room while the new couple smooched on the sofa, but worse, they spent hours and hours in that bedroom. It was all Violet could do to keep her mind from following them in there. She knew exactly how he made love – she and he had discovered how to do it together – and the thought of Catherine in her place was unbearable.
And all Violet’s habits were those of half a couple. She’d never been single as an adult before. She kept cooking too much food for one person. She found herself tidying up Leo’s stuff when he left it around the living room, and had to stop herself. In the bathroom, as she stood at the sink she noticed that Leo’s shaving gel was getting low, making a mental note to buy some next time she did a grocery run. Then she caught herself. No, this is NOT my job any more... Violet rolled her eyes at herself in the bathroom mirror and tossed her hair back in frustration. This situation was nuts.
June
One evening Violet came into the kitchen and found Leo, who had clearly only just returned from work, rummaging around in the fridge. Catherine was nowhere to be seen. After he’d taken out several plastic tubs containing leftovers from Violet’s meal miscalculations, there wasn’t much left in there. Or not much that Leo could cook... having gone straight from living with his parents to living with Violet the super-cook, he was rather helpless in the kitchen. He looked disconsolate. Despite herself, Violet took pity on him.
“You can eat any of those leftovers if you fancy them. I’m not keeping them for anything special.”
“Oh, thanks, Violet. I really appreciate it.” Violet sighed inwardly. This was so weird and awkward.
Leo selected a container of shepherd’s pie and heated it in the microwave. He inhaled as he opened the door. “This smells so good. I was supposed to pick up some ready meals on the way back from work but like an idiot, I forgot. And Catherine can’t cook much better than I can, and anyway she’s still at work now... this’ll be the first proper hot meal I’ve had this week.” Leo sighed, then laughed, embarrassed. “God, that sounds pathetic. Brought it on myself, didn’t I?”
Of course, thought Violet, Miss Swanky Lawyer Girl is far too high-powered to bother herself cooking dinner. She took pity on Leo. “Look,” she said, “in future why don’t I put a sticker on anything it’s OK to take?”
Leo was right, though, Violet thought – he did sound pathetic. How many grown men in this day and age wouldn’t be able to scare up a meal in their own kitchens? Or take the initiative enough to order a pizza or something... Violet shook her head, poured hot water on her coffee and went back to her own room to watch Netflix, alone. She was altogether too used to looking after Leo; that was the trouble. She needed to get a proper personal-chef gig, a live-in one, and get out of this flat.
Early next morning, she found that Leo had almost cleaned the fridge out of leftovers. At least he’d washed and put away the empty containers. That was a surprisingly big meal then, thought Violet. There’d been some cold lasagne and pasta salad as well as the shepherd’s pie; it was pretty heavy on the carbs. Violet found herself wondering just how much Leo actually knew about healthy eating. Ever since she’d been cooking for the two of them she had controlled the portions as a matter of course, made sure they had protein and veggies... she couldn’t recall Leo ever complaining, but he hadn’t had much input into their meals at all. Maybe she ought to give him some suggestions.
Or maybe not. Back off, girl, it’s not your job to keep him healthy.
Violet’s early start was for a catering event that day, a buffet lunch. She drove her motor scooter over to the industrial complex where the caterers were based and quickly got down to preparing sandwiches, frittatas, vegetable kebabs and other finger food. Irene and the other assistant chef arrived shortly afterwards and were soon hard at work too. As they began to package everything into trays and secure them in the back of the van, Irene drew Violet aside.
“Vi, I heard about an opportunity that might interest you. One of my wedding clients, Liz Halloran, remember her? – her sister-in-law is Allison Ekland’s PA. Yes, the Allison Ekland. She’s going to be living in London for a year or so with her family while she’s working here – producing and acting in a TV show, I think – and she wants a cook, but not a live-in one. Just someone to provide food for meals and go away again. I think it’s just breakfast, her children’s evening meal and the occasional dinner party. And she particularly wants someone with a background in nutrition who can do gluten-free; one of her children is celiac.”
Allison Ekland! Violet had never thought she would cook for a movie star. Certainly not yet. “You think she would have me? Am I experienced enough?”
“I think she would with the right references,” said Irene. “I know it’s not exactly the kind of personal-chef gig you might have been thinking of...”
“No, it sounds amazing!”
“Well, it would definitely be a great stepping-stone. If you do well on this, it could open a lot of doors for you.”
Late that evening, Violet sat at the kitchen table, composing a cover letter to Vanessa Halloran, the PA. This was the most nerve-wracking job application she had ever done, and she barely knew how to approach it. Her stomach churned slightly and she calmed it with a sip of tea from her favourite mug and a nibble of chocolate. She heard the key in the lock, and voices and laughter as Leo and Catherine returned for the night. Violet could hear what was probably kissing as the two of them banged through the hall and into their room. Here we go again. She sighed, rummaged in her bag for her headphones, plugged them into the laptop and pulled up Spotify.
Catherine breezed cheerfully into the kitchen in a sexy black dress, carrying her high heels. She spent some time going through the kitchen cupboards with much banging of doors, and looking in the fridge. She pulled out a bottle of wine, then reached for a couple of glasses. Despite Violet’s headphones, she leaned over her and said loudly “Ooh, chocolate! Can I have some?” and snagged a large chunk from the half-unwrapped bar before Violet could respond.
Popping it in her mouth and licking her lips, Catherine gathered up her shoes and lurched coltishly out, giggling and swearing as she stumbled, the bottle and glasses all clutched precariously in her other hand. Catherine even manages to look elegant when she’s tipsy, thought Violet with annoyance. She hoped she wouldn’t end up clearing up broken glass.
Soon there was more laughter and some loud music from behind Catherine and Leo’s door, which Violet could hear over her own music. Violet fumed. It was clear she wasn’t going to get much chance to concentrate that night. She gathered her things up, wrapping up the last little bit of the chocolate that Catherine had poached, and retreated to her own room, trying not to distract herself by thinking about what the lovebirds were up to.
She met Leo in the kitchen the following morning as she was getting ready to go out. He looked hung over and somewhat sheepish. “Hey, Vi. Sorry about disturbing you last night – and Cat says to say sorry too, for being obnoxious. I suppose we were a bit noisy?”
“Looks like you were having quite a party.” Violet knew she sounded judgmental, but she didn’t care. Leo knew she didn’t work nine to five and had early starts, even if Catherine had conveniently forgotten... and it wasn’t even the weekend yet. She did feel a little sorry for Leo, who was going to have to go to work with his hangover, but not that sorry.
“Um, yeah. We had had a few drinks. Catherine’s firm just finished a big court case and they’re about to start another one which is apparently going to take months. We won’t get much chance to go out once it gets going...” At this, Leo looked glum. “I know it’s not an excuse...”
“Well, no, it isn’t really. You’re not kids. And honestly, Leo, my heart doesn’t exactly bleed that you and your new squeeze are going to have to cool it down for a while.” On this note Violet picked up her bag and swept out.
It was a busy morning at work. During a late lunch break, Violet received an excited message from her friend Sally, with a picture of her hand sporting a diamond engagement ring. She called Sally up to congratulate her, thinking of the lonely ring in her dresser drawer that Leo had refused to take back, but managing to keep the bitterness out of her voice. Sally was her closest girlfriend, and she didn’t deserve to have the shine taken off her happiness by Violet’s heartbreak.
“Vi, will you be one of my bridesmaids?” asked Sally. She clearly wondered if Violet would want to. Violet only hesitated for a second.
“Of course I will!”
Sally took a deep breath. “Just one thing... My sisters will be bridesmaids too, but I’m going to have to ask Catherine as well. I know it’s a big ask for you to spend extra time with her, given how she’s treated you, but if I don’t Aunt Irene will be so upset and there’ll be drama. She is my only girl cousin, after all... and we were close growing up.”
Violet stifled a sigh. “Maybe Catherine will say no. Leo says she has a hectic time at work coming up. And I think she’s studying for some kind of exam as well.”
Sally laughed a little uneasily. “The wedding won’t be for about a year. Can you see Cat passing up the chance to dress up, drink from an open bar and flirt with lots of Tom’s friends? Or has she given up the rabid flirting now she’s supposed to be in a relationship?”
“I honestly don’t know about that last one, but you have a point,” said Violet.
“Look, Sal, don’t worry about it. I do live with her after all – I can cope with her for one hen weekend, a couple of dress fittings and the big day. Leo won’t even be there for most of that, so they can’t behave too sickeningly, can they? It’s only the lovey-dovey stuff I can’t deal with.” She rang off, feeling much more conflicted than she’d let Sally know, but buoyed slightly by a sense of her own maturity and magnanimity.
At home that evening, Violet was making coffee when her phone chimed. It was an email from Ms Halloran, the film star’s PA. She wanted to meet for an informal interview... and she wanted Violet to cook a sample breakfast. Violet’s heart leapt up. This was amazing... and she was amazingly nervous. Whatever happened she mustn’t mess this up. Involuntarily, the thought I must tell Leo! flashed across her mind, but she damped it down with a shake of the head, and settled for calling Evie, who was thrilled for her.
It didn’t take Violet long to come up with a list of sample dishes to make. Allison Ekland had a lifestyle Instagram, so it wasn’t hard to gauge her tastes and which ingredients she liked. It would certainly make a change from wedding catering. Allison was vegan, and as Irene had mentioned her younger son was celiac, so that would provide some interesting challenges, but she mentioned ancient grains, acai berries, an interest in fermented vegetables... You got this, Violet told herself.
Then she had to think about the logistics. Allison Ekland’s huge rented house was quite a distance across London from Violet’s flat, and she wasn’t sure she wanted to trust her lovingly prepared food to the box on the back of her scooter – not for a first impression anyway. So, taxi.
And she needed clothes. She had seldom had a job that didn’t come with a uniform, and looking at her wardrobe, nothing looked right. Her few vintage dresses were cute but not hugely professional, most of her other clothes were much too casual, and she didn’t feel comfortable about wearing the skirt suit from her graduation to cook in. She laid out all her options on the sofa and took a step back.
Catherine came through. “Oh, hi, Violet. What’s the occasion?”
Catherine wouldn’t have been Violet’s choice of confidante, but she was too excited to keep it quiet. “I have a job interview to cook for Allison Ekland.” Catherine looked suitably impressed. “The job sounds amazing, but I’m not sure what to wear for a personal chef interview. Whatever I choose, I have to be able to cook in it.”
Catherine cast an analytical eye over the clothes before her. “Yes, you can’t wear your usual uniform whites with the caterer’s logo on them, but you need something smart but simple... tailored trousers maybe. You need to feel comfortable in it, since if you get the job it’ll be your work uniform. Maybe you could get a chef’s jacket and put it over the top when it gets to be time to cook? Or a nice-looking apron?”
“Yes, either of those could work. I just need to figure out where to look. I don’t have much time to find something, or to order stuff – I wouldn’t have time to change it if it isn’t right.”
Catherine looked thoughtful. “Would you... Look, I’d like to help. Can I look online for you for styles that are in stock somewhere we can easily get to, and then you can go and try on tomorrow?”
The next day, Violet looked at herself in her full-length mirror and smiled. Surprisingly, Catherine’s input had been exceptionally helpful. She might be a selfish, annoying, irritatingly attractive man-eater, but she knew clothes. She’d sent Violet to several upscale stores with petite sections, and Violet was pleased with the simple yet well-fitting grey trousers and neat white shell top that she’d ended up with. She had ordered a dazzlingly white chef’s jacket and would collect it tomorrow, after the sleeves had been shortened and some darts put in it. If she got the job, she’d buy spares since she wouldn’t be able to use Irene’s laundry service any more.
The interview was in two days. She had already shopped for most of the ingredients, called to check which kitchen equipment would be available and what she would need to prepare in advance... She was pretty much ready.
After the interview, Violet was feeling nervous but energised. She still hadn’t met Allison Ekland, but Vanessa Halloran, who turned out to be tall, thin and mildly terrifying, had been there as well as Allison’s two teenage sons, who seemed surprisingly normal. Despite the formidable Ms Halloran, she felt she had acquitted herself well. She’d brought a homemade gluten-free granola, made a vegan “eggs Florentine” with silken tofu and spinach, a delicious chia and coconut cream whip with chunks of mango and fresh berries... I gave it my best game, thought Violet. I just need to wait and see if it’s good enough.
As Violet was about to take her leave, Ms Halloran had fixed her with a stern gaze and said “Now, as with any public figure, working for Allison isn’t just a job, it’s a commitment. While you won’t spend much time actually around Allison, you’ll be expected to abide by certain standards of behaviour, whether you’re at work or not. Nothing unreasonable,” – she favoured Violet with a thin, fleeting smile – “but we look very poorly on our staff doing anything that might produce adverse publicity, as Allison has her brand to consider. It will all be in the contract.” Violet assured her this wouldn’t be a problem.
I wonder if she says that to everyone, Violet wondered, as she gathered her things from the sparkling clean kitchen and prepared to depart. It’s probably not too wise to read too much into it. Whatever happened, she was sure there’d be another interview stage.
She went home and with nothing much to do for the rest of the day, spent the afternoon constructing exactly the kind of thing she wouldn’t be able to make if she got the job: a chocolate fudge cake laden with wheat flour and refined sugar, and dripping with decadent ganache. She’d made it for a wedding cake before now, with a white icing instead of the ganache, and served it in very small slices; it was so rich that Violet could only eat a little at a time. Why did I pick this to make? she wondered to herself. It’ll go stale before we ever finish it all. Not liking food to go to waste, she decorated the edge of the plate with one of the stickers she used to indicate to Leo which leftovers were fair game, and left it in her cake dome in the centre of the table. Leo had a sweet tooth; she knew she could count on him to eat some of it. Then she went out for a long walk to think.
She felt rather flat, facing another lonely evening in her room. Most of her friends in the catering business worked afternoons and evenings; she couldn’t think of anyone local to call to meet up with. That hadn’t mattered when she was with Leo. She regretted now that she hadn’t made more close female friends during her years of coupledom. Maybe if she’d made an effort to get to know Catherine as a person, and let Catherine get to know her, then Catherine wouldn’t have done what she did...
She shook her head. You’re spending far too much time thinking about that woman.
She came home to find Leo and Catherine in the kitchen, dining off leftovers from the fridge once again. Catherine started up when she came in and said “Oh hi, how did the interview go?”
“I think I did okay...” Violet shrugged. She didn’t really want to hash it over with Catherine. “Thanks for your help with finding the outfit.”
“Oh, it’s the least I can do...” said Catherine, awkwardly for her. “Wait, I’ve been meaning to say... thanks for all the amazing food we keep eating.” She laughed nervously. “We ought to be giving you some money for it. They’re your groceries, and it’s your work to cook it too.”
Violet felt extremely weird at this idea, and perhaps a little condescended to, but what the hell, Catherine and Leo both earned way more than she did. “If you want to shoot me some money for groceries that’s fine, but...” Then it occurred to her that they could do something better for her. “If this is helpful while you’re so busy, we could formalise it. I could give you mates’ rates for providing you with a few dinners per week, so long as I can call on you as a reference for personal-chef gigs in future. That would be worth more to me than the money at this point.” They agreed that Violet would work out a suitable rate for this.
On the phone that night, Evie said “You’re doing WHAT?”
“Cooking dinner a few nights a week while Catherine has this big court case on. Is it that much of a deal? Even if I get the Ekland job, that won’t be full-time; Leo and Catherine have been eating my leftovers anyway, and this way I get some money out of it and can use them as a reference.”
“I suppose so... But it’s not exactly going to help you move on from Leo, is it?” Evie sighed. “I suppose I hoped you’d start something new soon that would help you get out of that flat. Instead, you’re getting even more tied up with Leo and Catherine. She doesn’t think it’s weird that you’re cooking for your ex?”
“It was actually sort of her idea.” Or was it? Violet hardly knew.
Evie laughed. “Well, whatever works for all of you, I suppose, but if I was her, I’d be watching out for poison in the soup.”
Later on, when Violet went back into the kitchen, she found that a substantial chunk of the chocolate cake had disappeared, and there were two dirty cake plates in the dishwasher. Catherine has a sweet tooth too, she thought, remembering the chocolate-grabbing incident. Interesting.
Violet didn’t have too much opportunity to think about whether Evie was right about the weirdness of her situation, because Ms Halloran called her back and asked her to come back the next day and cook a sample dinner for Allison Ekland and her husband Ben. This didn’t involve any more interviewing, but Violet paid particular attention to looking neat and professional, and took meticulous care over the preparation. She was clearing up when Allison herself came into the kitchen to say hello and to thank her for the meal; in person she was tiny, impeccably dressed and her famous red hair glowed like polished copper. She had a noticeably Southern accent compared to the way she usually sounded on film. Violet tried to look cool and collected and not to gush, and apparently succeeded, because a couple of hours later, she got a phone call to say the job was hers. She was to meet with Ms Halloran the next day to discuss the arrangements, but then she wouldn’t start till the next Monday.
She came home to find Leo and Catherine looking tired, but drinking wine and eating the pasta dish she had prepared for them earlier. It’s going to be hard work balancing the two gigs, whatever I said to Evie, thought Violet, but I can do this. In a weird way, it was actually nice to see them enjoying her food. She smiled at them and told them her good news.
Violet was interested to see what the contract would say about behaviour, but despite what Ms Halloran had said, it was somewhat vague. She was forbidden from “any activities which cause reputational, professional or personal damage to your employer or her family or impact on the Ekland brand.” And there was a health questionnaire, even down to her height and weight, exercise and drinking habits, which struck Violet as a little intrusive, but she’d seen something about a health questionnaire in an American TV show… maybe this was normal for an American employer? Violet wasn’t sure what any of it meant, but she didn’t feel too concerned. Her current schedule really didn’t allow for wild living and she didn’t have any health issues anyway. She filled it in, signed the contract and sent it back.