Chapter 5
F ilming did end at the scheduled time that evening, for the first time in two weeks. Zoe wasn’t the only one who was happy. The film crew was much more relaxed. Cans of beer were cracked open as they put everything away.
“Do you think I can take some of that winter soup home?” Nicki suddenly appeared next to Zoe, pointing at the pot on the stove.
“If you like the taste of marbles, you can go for it.” Zoe smiled.
“Marbles?”
“Yes, that’s what we put in soup so that the other ingredients stay close to the surface. This way, soup looks more like soup on TV.”
Nicki sighed. “Once again, TV is lying to me.”
“I’m going to blow your mind: it’s not really Christmas yet, we’re just pretending it is.”
“That’s it, Zoe. I quit.”
“When you’re done being silly, help me get out of this dress. I’m going to die of dehydration.”
After Zoe slid back in her normal clothes, she sat down next to Nicki in a row of folding chairs next to the entrance of the set.
“We can quickly go through the catering agenda then you can go home.” Nicki was swiping at the tablet again.
Zoe hesitated. Tom was not at the house tonight and she had too much energy to just stay home alone. It was the one time that filming didn’t end stupidly late, and it felt like a waste of an evening.
“Do you have any plans for dinner?”
Nicki looked up from her tablet. “Not really. My girlfriend is on a work trip so it’s just me and the cat tonight.”
“Wanna talk about all this over dinner then? It’s my treat.” Zoe regretted the invitation immediately. How pathetic was it that her fiancé was not spending the evening with her after he’d been gone for weeks? And that her only friend she knew would be available was her assistant?
“Sure. I’d love to. Can I pick a fancy restaurant?”
A wave of relief flowed through Zoe. Of course Nicki wouldn’t think she was pathetic.
Nicki eventually settled for some upscale fish and chips, which Zoe happily agreed to.
If there was one thing she’d learnt in Belgium, it was that good fries just made life better.
A few heads turned as they walked into the restaurant.
Probably people who recognised Zoe from TV or from her books, though even before she was famous, people would turn their heads to look at her.
Zoe wasn’t always comfortable with it, but she knew she was a pretty woman.
Her career had evolved so fast, from her shared flat’s kitchen just outside London while she attended culinary school, to her first apprenticeship with a well-known chef, to a famous cooking TV show contest. At just 27, she’d made it to the semi-final and knew that this would be her once in a lifetime opportunity.
Zoe had quickly looked for an agent who’d helped her publish her first recipe book, then the calls started pouring in, until she’d secured her own TV show on public television.
She knew that some of it was because she was easy to look at, - so many sleazy producers had told her that when she started -, but Zoe refused to coast on her good looks, always looking for new challenges and working with people who had her best interests at heart.
She was a chef, a proper and talented one. She’d earned it.
They sat down at a table that Zoe couldn’t describe as anything else than a repurposed and over-designed chippy table.
Somehow, everything in this restaurant looked like it belonged in a modest diner, but upon further inspection it was all expensive material, from the black and white tiling on the floor to the dark wooden chairs.
They ordered two plates of fish and chips, a pint of beer for Nicki and a glass of Pinot Grigio for Zoe.
“Back to business.” Nicki pulled her tablet out of her backpack. “Here’s a few events that you can easily do because they’re in the same area.”
Zoe leaned over the tablet. “Lots of English events. Oh, and some in Milan and Florence? That’s quite nice.” Zoe stopped. “Belgium?”
“Yeah, someone wants you at the racetrack. Some rich famous guy who’s trying to attract sponsors for his race car, I think? And then directly after that, there’s this wedding that’s in the same area. The Ardeens?”
“The Ardennes. I know the place.” Zoe stared at Yasmine’s name on the screen.
“Yes, what you said. Is it from your crazy Belgian year?”
“It is.” Zoe leaned back in her chair. “It’s an old university friend of mine.
She’s getting married and wants to hire me.
” She took a sip of her white wine. She still hadn’t made up her mind about this.
What was Julie up to these days? Would she even remember Zoe?
Was she married? Maybe she even had kids. What type of woman was she with?
“You don’t want to do this one?” Nicki confusedly stared at Zoe.
“No I-” Zoe didn’t know how to finish this sentence. She was saved when the waiter came with their food.
They ate in silence for a short moment.
“Is it the wedding part that’s making you sad? Because of what we talked about before the interview?” Nicki asked bluntly.
Zoe sighed. “No. It’s not the wedding that’s the problem.” How many personal problems could she dump on her assistant today? She could maybe talk about this later with Tom instead. But how would she even start to explain this to him?
“Do you want to tell me what the problem is?”
Zoe wanted to. And if Nicki was nice enough to care about it, she wasn’t going to push her away.
“It’s a woman.” Zoe bit her lip.
“A woman?” Nicki cocked her brow.
“You’re not helping.”
“Sorry. Keep going.”
“I had a very close friend during my time in Brussels. She was my best friend and we were inseparable. I can’t really explain, but we just hit it off as soon as we spoke to each other for the first time.
It was amazing.” Zoe smiled. Memories of time spent with Julie flooded back to her.
The times they’d skipped class to go to the movies.
Small independent French movies that taught her all of the bad vocabulary until Julie had to tell her not to use “ fils de pute ” so profusely.
Times when they would just chat endlessly in somebody’s kitchen because the party was lame.
Julie’s tiny bed they had to share every time she crashed at her place. Zoe blushed.
“And then?”
“And then… I don’t really know? The year ended and I moved back here. I’ve never heard from her again. Except maybe polite messages for birthdays or something, but it was never the same.”
“And that woman will be at the wedding, I presume?” Nicki paused, like she suddenly had a realisation. “Oh my god, is she the one who’s getting married?”
“What? No! She’s not the one getting married. She will be a bridesmaid at the wedding though. And that’s my problem. I don’t know if she hates me or not. I don’t know what happened.”
“She just stopped being friends with you? Out of the blue?” Nicki squinted. “That’s so weird. You cannot think of anything that might have prompted this?”
Zoe felt her face turn redder. There was one thing that she could think of. But could it really be that? And also, did she really want to tell her assistant about this?
Nicki’s stare was insistent.
A silence fell between them as the restaurant chatter was going on.
“There was a kiss.” Zoe took a breath. “After the exams, a bit before I had to go back home, we got very drunk - like students do - and then Julie and I kissed. And before you ask, yes Julie was gay.”
“I’m so happy I said yes to this dinner invitation.”
“Nicki, if any tabloids get hold of this I will know that it came from you,” Zoe hissed, before sighing again.
She knew Nicki would never do that, and Nicki knew that Zoe knew that - she was utterly unoffended.
“Anyway, yes we kissed that one time and then things were a bit awkward. I had to go home afterwards and I never saw her again.”
“Ouch. How awkward?”
“I don’t know. I was young at the time. I didn’t know what to do with this so I just pretended nothing had happened.”
“That’s bad.” Nicki made a pained face. “But do you really think this girl will still be mad at you for something that happened twenty years ago when you were both drunk?”
“It was 10 years ago. God, Nicki, I’m older than you but I’m not ancient!” Zoe frowned. Nicki had a point. She had known Julie very well. If anything, she was the definition of too nice. Zoe couldn’t even remember Julie holding a grudge against anyone. “So you think she’s not mad at me?”
“I think you’re all grown adults now and you can probably talk about it.
If you feel like this might impair your professionalism at the wedding, you shouldn’t take the job.
” Nicki paused, took a sip of her beer then leaned forward.
“But between you and me - and I say this as a friend and not as your assistant - sometimes there are more important things in life than work. Maybe you should get to the bottom of the situation with this woman - what’s her name? Julie?”
Zoe smiled at how Nicki said the name the English way, with a hard J and emphasis on the first syllable. It didn’t seem like her old friend’s name at all - some hypothetical English version of Julie who was even more abstract than the girl floating in Zoe’s memories.
“Part of me really really really wants to go to this wedding and talk to her about it. And part of me wants to put it in the past.”
“At the same time, it’s been ten years and it still seems to bother you. Can you ever put it in the past without figuring out what went wrong?”
Zoe stared at her assistant. How could she always be so right? “OK.” She took a deep breath. “It’s settled then. You can tell the race car guy I’ll be at the racetrack and you can tell Yasmine I’ll be at her wedding.”
Zoe instantly felt a rush of excitement. She couldn’t believe she was going to be back in Belgium with Yasmine and Julie.
Just like old times.