Back at work, Tony was no longer talking to her. When Joy announced that Sofia would be taking the sous chef role at Friday dinner service, the reception was muted, met with a perfunctory round of applause. Sofia plastered on a smile and tried to ignore the reluctant tone of everyone’s ‘congratulations’. Tony had been right. There was bitterness towards her in the kitchen; Joy had misjudged how strong the reaction would be.
Simon and Erica at least were genuinely happy for her, and she retreated out of the kitchen and into the dining room whenever she got the opportunity.
‘They’ll get over it,’ Erica reassured her. ‘Just give it some time, and I’ll try and talk to Tony.’
‘It’s hard for people, you know, to see someone else just be more talented than them.’ Sofia playfully smacked Simon’s arm and felt a thrill when he grinned at her.
‘Keep your voice down,’ she scolded, although she was giggling. ‘The last thing I need is for any of the cooks hearing you say something like that.’ Her hand was still on his arm and when he looked down at it and smirked, Sofia quickly pulled it away and blushed. They still hadn’t talked about that night, but nothing had really changed at work. Sofia sought out his company as a welcome balm to the hostility in the kitchen, and knowing that he wanted her was the perfect antidote.
‘Are you guys going to Mark’s leaving party on Sunday?’ It was Erica, who seemed oblivious to what felt to Sofia like palpable sexual tension between them.
‘Yeah I think so,’ said Simon nonchalantly, and then whilst holding Sofia’s gaze intently, ‘unless any other, more interesting plans come up.’
She blushed, looking away.
‘I think I’ll go.’ She knew it would be badly received for her not to, now that she had to consider the politics of everything.
Sofia decided that she wanted to make an effort that night. She didn’t want to admit to herself that it had anything to do with seeing Simon, but it crossed her mind a few times, as she discarded outfit after outfit onto her bedroom floor. She settled on a deep red halter-neck top but skipped the matching lipstick with half a mind that she might be kissing a certain someone. Black jeans, boots, hair piled on top of her head with curls cascading down over her forehead, and in ringlets down her neck, she was ready to go. She looked good, sexy even, and despite the anxiety of navigating the tension with her colleagues, she was excited.
On the bus, she texted Simon to tell him she was on her way, and then she texted Erica. Neither of them had replied by the time she was standing at the top of the three-storey walk-up in Camden. She could hear music thumping on the other side of the door, and the chatter of a drunken crowd. She took a deep breath, resigning herself to the solo entrance she had been hoping to avoid.
A few drinks in and Sofia was dancing with the other guests and actually enjoying herself. She had spotted Tony, but the way she quickly looked away suggested to Sofia that they were not ready for a reconciliation just yet.
‘I need to cool down,’ Sofia shouted at Mark over the music.
‘If you go out through the door at the end of the hallway, you can get up to the roof. It’s where the smokers congregate.’ She gave him a thumbs up and stumbled out into the hallway.
The roof was bigger than Sofia expected. People were clumped in small groups sharing cigarettes and passing around rolling papers. Sofia checked her phone.We’re on our tray.Erica had sent that about an hour ago. Sofia deduced that ‘tray’ was a drunken attempt at ‘way’ but was still confused by the ‘we’; perhaps Erica was bringing her housemate. Sofia took a few deep breaths, leaning into the euphoria of a cool breeze brushing against her dance-tired, drunk body. She decided to circle the perimeter of the roof before heading back downstairs and it was as she walked past the first chimney stack that she saw them.
In the moonlight, it was a romantic scene, Erica’s head of blonde curls tilted back with her hands entangled in Simon’s shaggy dark mop. They were so engrossed in their embrace that she felt confident standing in the shadows, unnoticed, if morbidly voyeuristic. A freeze of shock, and then a bolt of anger, Sofia let the emotions course through her before settling into a state of embarrassment and shame. Had she really thought that she was special? That Simon was in love with her or something? Clearly, she thought, she had been a drunken mistake for him, and she had completely misread the signals. What she had interpreted as flirty was just him being friendly, perhaps not wanting to shut her down, to spare both their embarrassment.
Quietly she took herself away, down the stairs, into the party to say goodbye to Mark and then out into the city. That night, wandering the streets alone, was the first time Sofia began dreading going to work.
The restaurant was closed on Mondays, so Sofia had a whole day to sit with her anxiety, which by that evening had reached a fever pitch. The next day she called in sick, and the day after that. She whiled away the hours, bingeing bad TV and ordering expensive takeaways. On the Thursday she received a text that made her heart stop. It was from Simon.Are you OK? Hope you haven’tgot that nasty bug going around.She contemplated throwing her phone out the window. The sight of his name made her actually feel sick.
In the evening she got a call from Joy.
‘I really need you. I know you can’t help being sick but it’s your first week as sous and I think it would be good to have you in, even for a half-day, to get you up to speed.’ Sofia felt a stab of guilt. ‘It’s been a tough week, what with Erica off as well. We’re a bit short-staffed.’ Joy sounded stressed.
‘I’ll be in tomorrow,’ said Sofia, trying to push down the panic rising in her throat at the thought of facing Simon.
‘See you then,’ was all Joy said before hanging up. This is what people meant about not shitting where you eat, thought Sofia. It made even more sense not to shit where you cook. She needed to try and be a grown-up about this. She drafted a text to Simon.Back to work tomorrow. Could we meet before the dinner shift for a chat?She hit send, her heart pounding. Now she had to work out what to say to him. She decided she would not be ‘overly emotional’. She would simply lay down the facts and voice her disappointment and suggest they try and ‘remain professional’ from now on. Her reaction to the whole affair had made it pretty clear to her that she wasn’t the sharing type, at least when it came to romance.
The conversation did not go well. Simon already seemed agitated before they began speaking. He offered Sofia a brisk hug, which she reluctantly accepted.
‘How have you been?’ he asked, reverting to his old habit of avoiding eye contact, and instead staring straight ahead as they stood side by side outside the restaurant.
‘I’m fine,’ she replied, sensing his discomfort and taking courage in it. ‘I wanted to talk about the other night, last week.’ He stared blankly, as if Sofia hadn’t said anything at all. ‘I just wanted to clear the air, or you know, just clarify a few things.’ She felt irritated that he was acting as if she was boring him. He stayed silent.
‘I saw you and Erica at the party the other night and I wanted to let you know how I felt about it.’ That caught his attention. He snapped his head round to look her in the eyes, and she felt a chill when she saw the mixture of panic and menace in his stare.
‘What did you hear?’ he asked in a strained tone, trying to feign indifference and failing miserably. He wasn’t really listening to her.
‘What do you mean? I didn’t hear anything. I just said I saw you guys getting together and well, I think it hurt my feelings. I don’t know, I guess I thought maybe...’ She was tripping over her words and she couldn’t think straight. She was picking at her thumbnail as she spoke. ‘I thought that maybe you and me were, getting to know each other or whatever.’
He let out mocking laugh. Her stomach dropped. She dared to meet his eyes. They were cold and vacant.
‘Listen, Sofia, I think you’re a lovely girl, but that night was just a bit of fun. I thought we’d both agreed to that.’ Sofia burned with shame. She couldn’t remember if she had; she couldn’t remember most of that night. ‘I don’t really have time for this shit right now. I’m sorry you were hurt by the Erica thing but to be honest I am actually allowed to sleep with whoever I want.’
