Page 11 of Seven Reasons to Murder Your Dinner Guests
“No, she’s not,” Patten snapped back, then quickly concluded the meeting.
As the others filed out, he laid a hand on Vivienne’s shoulder and closed the office door.
“Don’t make me regret hiring you,” he muttered through clenched teeth. “I want to see ten workable ideas by the morning, and don’t let me ever see you crying again. This is a place of work.”
Vivienne stepped out of that meeting knowing emotion equaled weakness and must be avoided at all costs. So she’d never cried at work again. Instead, she’d let her tears—of frustration, sadness, loneliness, and occasionally joy—flow while she lay in the bath at home. They’d roll freely and abundantly down her face and plop into the soapy water. But never, never at work.
Now here was this young woman, around the same age Vivienne was when she’d started. Cat had everything on her side: an equal opportunity employer, a university degree no doubt bankrolled by wealthy parents, and (let’s not pretend it doesn’t help) a beautiful face. And yet here she is, cryingagain. Time to wrap this meeting up.
“You’ve worked here for two years now, Cat,” she sighs, her words heavy with disappointment. “I expect better than this.”
“I’m so sorry Vivienne,” Cat splutters. “I started a bar job last week, and I’ve had to stay until 2:00 a.m. to clean up.”
Vivienne has to admit, Cat’s usually porcelain skin has an unhealthy gray sheen today, and she looks like she got dressed in the dark. But we all have busy lives—and we’ve all had to get on with the terrible pay that media jobs bring. Hell, Vivienne has lived in the same poky cottage in Teddington for twenty years now.
“Read through my notes carefully. I want this rewritten by first thing tomorrow. If it’s no better, I’ll have to pass the Travel section on to Lauren,” Vivienne barks, standing up.
A surge of wicked joy shoots through her as she observes Cat’s look of horror. Lauren is the office intern, has made it abundantly clear she has ambitions to write, has already started a charm offensive on the editor.
“Yes, of course. I’m working again tonight, but I’ll find the time.”
“Remember, in this industry, there’s a queue of people after our jobs—younger, with more enthusiasm and less expectation,” Vivienne says.
With that dark warning, Vivienne marches out of the office back to her desk. She doesn’t need to know that the article’s deadline isn’t for another week. Vivienne just wants to teach her a valuable lesson and make her feel some of the pressure that she herself is always under. Cat should consider herself lucky to have such an experienced mentor.
Sitting down, Vivienne brings up her emails. She flicks past the spam messages, some PRs trying to promote their inane products,news agencies sending their story ideas—then one email catches her eye. She frowns at the sender’s name, Melvin Williams, from a metropolitan police email address. It’s vaguely familiar. Then she remembers: Melvin the police officer from that odd dinner party two weeks ago.
She hesitates before clicking on the message.
From: Melvin Williams
To: Serendipity’s group
Subject: Some sad news
Hello everyone,
Following the dinner party of November 26, 2015, I ran some searches through Land Registry and discovered that a Serendipity’s restaurant is not registered on Salvation Road or anywhere else in London. So we can only assume that we dined at a pop-up restaurant as part of a PR stunt, or practical joke, and put that night behind us.
On a separate note, a report came into the station late last night of the passing of a young woman after she accidentally fell in front of a London Underground train. I’m sorry to inform you that the woman was Stella Cooke, who we all had the pleasure of meeting at the dinner party.
I have added below a news report about the accident in case this is of interest.
Kind regards,
Melvin
Vivienne clicks on the link to a news website.
YouTube Sensation StellaStylez Dead at 23
Popular fashion vlogger Stella Cooke has tragically died after falling in front of a London Underground train on Friday night.
Twenty-three-year-old Stella had been attending a celebrity-studded fashion label launch earlier that evening—from where she posted a series of videos and pictures—before leaving around 10 p.m. and falling in front of the train at Sloane Square Station.
Tributes have flooded in for the young fashionista, known online as StellaStylez, who was famous for her YouTube videos advising teenagers on affordable alternatives for designer clothes and accessories.
One tribute, from JBFan98, reads: “RIP StellaStylez!! I’ll always love you and will never take off my pink cowboy boots in your memory.”
