Page 2 of Cooking Up a Christmas Storm
Jodie stared at the dead phone in her hand. No job. Fine. That completed the set with no girlfriend, no car and no flat. It was a royal flush of failure. She weighed her phone in her hand and hit 2 on her speed dial.
Calling Gemma
It would go to voicemail. It had gone to voicemail every time Jodie had called since Gemma left. The first few times she’d left messages asking to talk. Then she’d explained how she’d do better in future. Then there’d been the times – regrettable times, late at night after she’d downed one bottle of wine and opened another – when she’d yelled and called Gemma some pretty unforgivable names. In her defence she’d followed all of those up with longer messages full of profuse apologies. And then there’d been the begging phase, imploring Gemma to come back. She wasn’t proud of that. Now she was being cool. Friendly, chatty, casual. Not needy at all. Just cheerily trying to catch up with an old mate.
The beep sounded on the end of the line. The recorded voice started. ‘The number you have called is not in service.’
She hung up and rang again.
‘The number you have called is not in service.’
Gemma had changed her number. Jodie stared at her handset. It was her only link to her ex and it had been severed. No warning. No message to let her know. Nothing.
That meant there were only two choices left. There was the one she’d been mostly making ever since Gemma had gone. That involved staying in bed and ordering Deliveroo she couldn’t afford on a dangerously close-to-maxed-out credit card.
The other option was unthinkable. And Jodie was thinking it.
The ringing phone startled her. And then confused her. She stared at her mobile, trying to marry it up with the repetitive trill she could hear. It wasn’t her mobile ringing. It was the landline.
Jodie almost smiled, realising Gemma’s apparently endless competence hadn’t extended to terminating the landline contract she’d insisted on keeping up.
Jodie pulled herself to her feet and grabbed the handset from the breakfast bar that divided the living area in the flat. Nobody rang this number. Nobody she could think of, apart from Gemma’s nan, even knew the number. Gemma did. Jodie pressed the answer button on a wave of hope. Maybe this would be her explaining that she’d lost her phone and that the last few weeks had been a horrible mistake and she was desperate to come back.
‘Hello?’
‘Gemma Bryant?’
‘Yes!’ What? Wait. No. The person on the other end of the line wasn’t saying she was Gemma Bryant. She was asking if Jodie was. Too late.
‘Hi. I’m so glad I got hold of you.’
‘But…’
The woman on the other end of the line didn’t even pause. ‘I tried your mobile but I think I must have written the number down wrong.’
‘Sorry. Who is this?’
‘Oh God. I’m sorry. This is Bella Smith at Lowbridge Castle. The cookery school. I should have said that to start with, shouldn’t I?’
Jodie was, obviously, none the wiser. And the last thing she needed today was to waste time talking to someone who thought she was somebody else entirely. She had enough to worry about with the no-home thing.
‘I’m sorry. I’ve never done this before.’
And the no-money thing.
‘You’re the first person we’ve officially hired.’
And the no-job thing. Finally, what the voice on the other end of the phone was saying filtered through. ‘What?’
‘Yeah. So I know it’s been a little while but if you’re still interested I’m ringing to offer you the job.’
‘The job?’
‘We were all blown away with your ideas, and we can’t wait to get started.’ The woman paused. ‘I mean if you’re still keen. It’s like we talked about on the phone. We know the money isn’t brilliant but accommodation’s included and you’re welcome to join us for meals if you want to, or not if you don’t, of course. So what do you say?’
A job. Accommodation included. It was like the universe had finally looked down on Jodie and given her a break. It wasn’t her break though. It was Gemma’s. She couldn’t just take it. Could she? ‘Just like you said on the phone?’
‘Oh, thank you again for doing the interview that way. The downside of living in the back of beyond – there’s no way our Wi-Fi will handle a video call!’
