Leo flopped onto the sofa and turned on the television. How come Monday night TV was so boring? He flicked over to Netflix and clicked on his profile, next to Veronica’s. On Saturday night, the first night they’d spent in together since Esme had left and she moved in, she’d made him change Esme’s profile to hers. But not before grabbing the remote and having a flick through to see what programmes Esme had liked. He hadn’t realised how much trash she must have watched when he was working late and she wasn’t out with her weirdo friends. It was a wonder her brain hadn’t turned to mush and dribbled out of her ears. Leo chuckled to himself at his joke and made a mental note to use it again in conversation with Veronica – it would definitely make her laugh. Thinking of which, where was she?
He checked his phone to see a text message. It must have pinged while he was lost in thought. He worried for a moment it would be Esme, begging him to let her come back, for them to try again, and the muscles in his legs tensed but relaxed down as he saw it was from Veronica. Oh, she was working late again. As he wasn’t due to meet any clients tonight and his friends had been a bit iffy with him since he’d announced his relationship with Veronica (jealousy no doubt), that meant another dinner in on his own.
The only trouble with Veronica being senior to him was that she had more nights out with clients than he had. He knew that tonight Veronica was seeing her biggest client, an American who needed a lot of schmoozing, and she’d warned him she probably wouldn’t be home till late. At the time it had been fine. He’d planned to go out with his friends, but it turned out his friends were busy again. A niggling in his mind told him it was an excuse. He knew they thought he was playing with fire, dating his own boss, but they didn’t know Veronica. Not like he did.
Leo found a programme to watch. A bit of Bear Grylls always cheered him up. After a few minutes he sighed and reached behind him to remove a mauve scatter cushion. He hadn’t wanted them ruining the sleek lines of the expensive grey leather sofa, but Veronica couldn’t get comfortable without them. Esme had never gone in for all these extra bits and bobs but Veronica had started sneaking them in. Leo had dropped some subtle hints, but she’d argued with him and the pesky things kept appearing in all manner of colours and with strange adornments and tassels. After piling them at the far end of the sofa, he was able to get comfortable. The programme was an hour long, so surely she’d be home by the time it ended.
The show finished at just gone nine o’clock and his stomach was rumbling even louder. He thought about giving it another five minutes, but it was no good, he just couldn’t concentrate when he was this hungry. He texted Veronica asking when she’d be home and she responded straightaway, a bit stroppily in his opinion, saying she didn’t know and accusing him of being clingy. Clingy? He wasn’t clingy. He just wanted to know what was going on so he could plan his own evening. It wasn’t much to ask. Veronica might be a dab hand with clients, but she needed to work on her communication. Still, it was early days of living together, they could work it out. Things were moving quickly, and that was good, wasn’t it? It showed they were meant to be. Veronica was so like him — career-oriented, ambitious. They were sure to go places. Though Leo did still feel a little disappointed she hadn’t liked the ring he’d bought her. She’d called it loud and insisted they go and find something together so she could choose for herself.
Huffily, Leo went to the kitchen. It would have been nice if her response had come an hour ago – even that one – so he could’ve eaten. He wasn’t used to waiting around for people. Opening the fridge, Leo perused the contents. A mouldy tomato, half a soggy lettuce and some eggs were all that remained. Veronica wasn’t a shopper or a cook, not like Esme. When Esme had lived here the fridge had been stocked with all manner of delights from exquisite cheeses to delicious meats from all over the world. She always made him the tastiest leftovers too, so all he had to do was throw them in the microwave. He’d have a quick chat with Veronica about doing the shopping. Leo remembered one night when he’d been really late home from work and Esme had been out with her friends, he’d arrived home just after her and was starving. In her jolly and slightly tipsy mood, she’d pulled together an amazing picnic that they ate on the floor in front of the telly. They’d met at a picnic, weirdly. In Hyde Park with her friends. They were playing some silly game and she’d fallen backwards laughing, only to crash into his path and trip him up. He’d been mesmerised by her straightaway and when she was still there when he returned from his meeting, watching him walk past. He knew she was interested and doubled back to ask her out. Things had been so much better back then. And it wasn’t her fault he’d got bored with her. That was life.
Leo eyed the eggs and squared his shoulders. He’d make an omelette. He could do it. French people made them all the time so how hard could it be? Ten minutes later and feeling a bit like a student, Leo glared at the soggy scrambled egg on barely toasted bread. He wouldn’t hear from Veronica again this evening he knew that much, and who knew what time she’d be in. But he wouldn’t interrupt her meeting. He used to hate it if Esme did that to him.
Taking his disappointing plate and going back to the sofa, Leo decided to watch one more episode of Bear Grylls before going to bed. He ignored the thought that this whole evening should be working out the other way around, with him out all night and Veronica sitting at home waiting for him to crawl in at a ridiculous time, perhaps a little pissed, and slide into bed beside her. A sudden image of Esme’s blazing red hair splayed out on the pillow next to his shot into his brain. He ignored it and scooped up some runny egg only to watch it promptly fall off the fork.