Bill’s words came back to her later in the evening when she was on the set of Master Baker and studying a pair of desserts. ‘There were circumstances that provoked that one. I didn’t just start punching him. He’d threatened me with a knife.’
She didn’t know why the words seemed important, or why they should echo around her thoughts as though they were relevant. But they seemed to be stuck inside her mind like the refrain from some maddeningly catchy song.
‘I didn’t just start punching him. He’d threatened me with a knife.’
Trudy vividly remembered the incident Bill had been discussing. She had been working in the kitchens of Boui-Boui and the Smurf, one of Bill’s commis chefs, had caused a scene.
The commis chef wasn’t a particularly pleasant individual. He had a thin, angular face and an unlikeable sense of entitlement. He was always the last member of staff to arrive and the first to sneak out for a smoke break. If anyone was going to steal a last-minute sick day, it would be the Smurf. If anyone in the kitchen was going to make a vulgar comment or spread a piece of malicious gossip, it would be the Smurf.
The Smurf was his nickname in the kitchen. Everyone called him the Smurf because his fingers were invariably blue with the kitchen’s detectable sticking plasters.
‘I didn’t just start punching him. He’d threatened me with a knife.’
On that particular night, it seemed as though the Smurf had taken umbrage with the fact that Trudy was young and inexperienced, yet she had been brought into the Michelin-starred kitchen in the role of a high-ranking sous. Looking back on the situation Trudy could understand why any commis chef with career aspirations would be upset by such a development. But the Smurf had no real career aspirations and his reaction had gone beyond understandable annoyance.
He had snatched one of the blades from the kitchen wall and threatened Bill.
Watching the confrontation had been an unsettling experience.
Bill had tried negotiating and offered him a couple of opportunities to back down and retract his threat but the Smurf seemed intent to cause trouble. Eventually, Bill had disarmed the Smurf, punched him to the floor and then notified the police.
Bill spent a night in police cells as a consequence of defending himself.
The action had earned him a reputation for being violent and volatile. Fortunately for Bill it was a reputation on which his agent was still trying to put a positive spin.
The following day Trudy had been shocked to discover the Smurf had not been particularly angry at Bill for the way he ran his kitchen. The Smurf had been bribed by Donny to cause upset at Boui-Boui.
‘I didn’t just start punching him. He’d threatened me with a knife.’
Trudy shook her head to try and drive Bill’s words from her thoughts. Remembering that evening brought back every unsettling emotion she had felt at the time. There had been anger, fear and distress and she couldn’t understand why her subconscious seemed to need a surfeit of those feelings spoiling her day.
Instead of thinking about that morning’s conversation, or the drama of several months earlier in the Boui-Boui kitchens, she wanted to focus on the pair of desserts that sat in front of her.
She was looking at a pastry-encased coffee muffin and a dacquoise. And she needed to make a decision as to which was the best.
Trudy and Charlotte had spent a busy day at Sweet Temptation HQ. With Daryl absent they had both discovered how much work was done by the company’s most junior partner. To their shared surprise, and their private embarrassment, it seemed Daryl regularly did more than either Charlotte or Trudy managed on their most industrious and productive days.
Daryl usually staffed the reception desk. She liaised between production and dispatch. She organised orders, payroll and invoicing. She invested time in marketing and promotion. Daryl even went out to get the lunchtime sandwiches. And she did it all while wearing designer fashions and fuck-me heels.
‘It’s no wonder she’s so bloody thin,’ Charlotte had grumbled during their lunch break. Charlotte had done the sandwich run and returned looking harried. She had only purchased half the stuff she had originally set out to buy and some of that was wrong. ‘I’d be as thin as Daryl if I could spend my day managing to do every damned thing without breaking a sweat.’
Trudy nodded agreement and nibbled politely at the cheese and pickle sandwich Charlotte had given her. Trudy disliked the acidic flavour of pickle but she didn’t want to let Charlotte know that she was useless on the sandwich run.
Overall the day’s production and distribution had gone smoothly. It had taken a lot of effort and, by the end of the day, both Charlotte and Trudy were exhausted.
It had been particularly busy for Trudy because she was having to cover the majority of Daryl’s work on her own. Charlotte and Harvey were in the process of trying to negotiate the sale of Sweet Temptation products through supermarkets and fast-food outlets. Because this involved Charlotte making a lot of telephone conversations from the privacy of her office, Trudy had been left to single-handedly manage the reception desk and oversee production.
She had also had to deal with an unexpected call from Mark.
‘I know it’s a little cheesy to call the place where you work,’ he explained. ‘But I wanted to make sure you were OK after our date the other night.’
‘I’m fine,’ she assured him. ‘It was a lovely evening.’
‘Fancy doing it again?’
He didn’t leave the question there. He suggested a movie followed by a meal at the pizzeria adjacent to the cinema. He made the offer sound like nothing more than a pair of old friends going out to share an evening’s food, company and entertainment.
She was on the verge of stopping him to say that she couldn’t accept the invitation because she was seeing someone. She didn’t make the interruption because she knew, if she said that to Mark, Daryl would find out and want to know who she was seeing.
‘That sounds lovely.’
She said the words quickly for fear that, if she thought about what she was saying, she would regret the idea and tell him that she wasn’t interested. It wasn’t that she wanted to have a relationship with Mark. She wanted to have a relationship with Bill. But the only relationship she and Bill could share was a secret one and a part of her seemed insistent that she deserved something more.
‘I can’t make it tonight,’ she told him. ‘I’m filming tonight. But I’m free tomorrow.’
Mark sounded thrilled. They exchanged mobile numbers and agreed they would meet outside the cinema once Mark had confirmed the time for an appropriate movie.
Not sure why she had agreed to the date, and wondering how she was going to explain this to Bill, Trudy tried to busy herself with handling calls and orders and not thinking about what she had done.
She had started to do some of the necessary invoicing but the process was complicated and she was repeatedly interrupted by phone calls and queries. She finished the day exhausted and believing she hadn’t managed a half of what Daryl could usually achieve. More annoying than anything else was the fact that she hadn’t even attempted to do any of the jobs with Daryl’s usual flair for dressing in designer fashions. The woman was a powerhouse and Trudy wondered if they could make it company policy that Daryl was never again allowed to have time off.
As soon as Sweet Temptation was closed for the evening Trudy and Charlotte drove to the Master Baker TV studios. Trudy spent an hour in wardrobe and make-up while her friend sat nearby, busying herself with phone calls, texts and tweets to Harvey. Charlotte shared occasional comments with Trudy, talking about the progress of the supermarket deals and the plans for her wedding, and mentioning her growing concern for Daryl.
When filming finally began Trudy felt exhausted. She was weary from the excesses of a day when she didn’t think she’d stopped. She trudged like a zombie through the first hour’s filming and was only brought back to some semblance of lucidity when she was asked to judge the first round of desserts from a group of semi-finalists.
The theme for the first of the semi-finals was coffee.
The majority of contestants had produced variations on tiramisus and traditional coffee cakes. There was nothing inherently wrong with any of those desserts but, because each one was so similar to the other it was difficult to think of them as other than commonplace.
The two pieces that stood out for Trudy were a hazelnut-mocha dacquoise and an imaginatively fashioned coffee-flavoured bun encased in a pastry shell.
The dacquoise was delicious. Consisting of layer upon layer of mocha-flavoured mousse over hazelnut meringue, it was a mouth-watering combination of tastes that had her convinced she had encountered the evening’s first winning dish.
But the presentation of the coffee-flavoured bun in its pastry shell made her rethink that decision. The contestant had sculpted a small pastry handle and attached it to the side of the pastry shell so it looked like a coffee cup. The presentation had been completed with a swirl of whipped cream on the top, sprinkled with the faintest dusting of cocoa powder.
She was consulting with Carlos and he shared her view that the two dishes were the best on display.
‘It has to be one of these two,’ she said firmly.
He nodded agreement. ‘The coffee-cup appearance of the bun is cute enough to win,’ he said. ‘Whilst I think the dacquoise tastes divine, it looks shoddily put together.’ He laughed and added, ‘It looks like it’s been constructed during an earthquake by someone with Parkinson’s disease.’
Trudy stared at him aghast.
‘You’re not going to say something that offensive on the show, are you?’
Carlos shrugged. A small smirk played on his lips. ‘Is that too much?’
She nodded.
‘Should I say it looks like it’s been made by a drunken sailor during a rough crossing?’
She didn’t know why he needed to say anything unpleasant. The dish was a dacquoise. It was never going to look particularly tidy. She shook her head in disbelief and tried to think of a diplomatic way to tell Carlos he was being unkind.
Before she could form the words, the triumphant contestants were brought on to discuss their creations. Trudy discovered that the dacquoise had been made by a young woman called Carol-Ann, a very strong contender since the earliest episodes of the show, with a likeable personality.
The coffee cup had been produced by Donny’s mysterious friend Victor.
Trudy gave Victor the warmest fake smile she could muster.
Both contestants seemed delighted with the results and pleased that their dishes had been ranked so highly. The production team called a halt to filming while the technical team set up the evening’s next round of the competition.
Trudy excused herself from Carlos’s company and hurried back to make-up to find Charlotte. Her friend was just completing a phone call to Harvey. Trudy had to listen to Charlotte’s farewell kisses before she had a chance to talk.
Eavesdropping on the intimate exchange made her smile.
Charlotte and Harvey were ideal for each other and Trudy was delighted that her friend had found someone. Obviously it hurt to think that Charlotte was in a relationship that could be made public, whilst her involvement with Bill was being kept quiet like a shameful secret. Trudy brooded on that thought and wondered why she had been so foolish as to accept Mark’s invitation to go to the cinema and the pizzeria. She pulled out her phone, ready to send Mark a text and tell him that she wouldn’t be able to make the date.
Charlotte said her final goodbye and severed the connection.
‘Did you want me?’
Trudy put her phone away without sending Mark the text message. Dismissing the issue of her date from her thoughts she asked, ‘Do you know who Victor is?’
Charlotte shook her head. ‘Which one’s Victor?’
Linking arms and dragging her friend back to the studio, Trudy slyly pointed him out. ‘He’s the one sitting on his own over there,’ she explained. ‘He has the bald head and goatee beard.’
She waited until Charlotte was looking in the right direction before saying, ‘I know him from somewhere, but I can’t remember where. When I saw him here last week he was in the studio with Donny.’
‘Donny?’ Charlotte couldn’t disguise the panic in her voice. ‘Is he still here?’
‘No,’ Trudy promised. ‘At least, I don’t think so. Donny was here last week but I haven’t seen him here this week.’
Charlotte looked to be scouring the studio audience with her gaze. The ‘V’ on her brow was set at its deepest. She snorted with disgust as she glared towards one darkened corner of the studio.
‘Is that Donny over there?’ she asked softly.
Trudy squinted where Charlotte was pointing and wondered if her friend was right. The figure she was indicating could have been Donny but he was far away and the lighting was poor.
‘I don’t know,’ she said. ‘But what about Victor? Do you know him?’
Charlotte glanced again and snapped her fingers. ‘Of course. He worked with Donny for a while, until Donny got sacked. He came out drinking with us a couple of times at Stanzas. Don’t you remember?’
Vague recollections were coming back to Trudy. They were accompanied by a disturbing sense of unease. ‘It rings vague bells,’ she said. ‘But –’
‘Donny had been working at Boui-Boui,’ Charlotte decided. ‘This must have been around the time he got Imogen pregnant and then dumped her.’
‘I’m sure you’re right,’ Trudy said earnestly. ‘But I don’t recall anyone in our group at the time being called Victor. The name just doesn’t –’
‘Donny didn’t call him Victor,’ Charlotte told her. ‘The guy had some silly nickname. He was one of those clumsy chefs who always had blue sticking plaster on their fingers and –’
‘The Smurf!’ Trudy exclaimed.
The memory of Bill’s words pounded through her head again in a triumphant exclamation: ‘He’d threatened me with a knife.’
‘That’s it!’ Charlotte cried happily. ‘I knew I’d remember the name. Donny called him the Smurf.’
‘Shit,’ Trudy muttered. ‘The Smurf is the one who tried to stab Bill.’
Charlotte frowned. As Trudy rushed to find one of the producers and explain that she knew the Smurf, Charlotte tried to stay by her side. When her mobile rang Charlotte excused herself and said she would catch up as soon as she’d dealt with the call.
Trudy found the producer and tried to compose her thoughts. She couldn’t say that Victor had tried to stab her ex-boyfriend because that sounded tawdry. It would also mean explaining who her ex-boyfriend was, and potentially dredging up a media storm as everyone wondered why she had been in a relationship with Bill Hart six months earlier, yet now he had remarried one of his former wives. Deciding to brush over the knife incident she said, ‘There might be a conflict of interests. I hadn’t realised it before but it seems I’ve worked in the same kitchen as Victor.’
The producer raised an eyebrow. ‘How long ago was this?’
‘Maybe six months ago.’
‘And you’ve only just noticed today?’
‘He’s changed his appearance a lot since then.’
Trudy knew the words sounded foolish as she said them. She could see the producer studying her as though she was a self-important diva – someone who couldn’t be bothered to remember what other people looked like as she focused only on herself and her own career.
The truth was she’d tried to find out who he was but Victor had been evasive and Trudy hadn’t wanted to pry into something that was potentially personal.
‘Fair enough,’ the producer said easily. ‘Thanks for letting me know.’
‘Are you going to kick Victor out of the competition?’
The producer laughed. ‘Of course not. You worked with him once. It’s hardly compromising, is it?’
‘I didn’t just work with him,’ Trudy explained. ‘There was a violent incident in the kitchen. He was bribed to cause upset there.’
The producer shrugged. ‘I can’t get rid of him because of that. If I had to run this show with any sense of ethics we wouldn’t get a single episode out on air.’ Smiling sadly, speaking in a whisper, the producer added, ‘Tom’s sister-in-law was amongst the finalists last year. To my knowledge Carlos has screwed three of this year’s contestants. And the judge you replaced, Kelly White, she used to buy drugs from one of the contestants.’
‘Jesus,’ Charlotte marvelled. ‘This is a real den of iniquity, isn’t it?’
The producer considered her coolly. ‘This show is entertainment. If a few unimportant principles get put aside for the sake of our making a good show, then I can’t see any reason to worry about it. Can you?’
Trudy wanted to argue that she could see plenty of reasons to worry but she simply shook her head. The producer’s indifference told her it would be no use saying anything further. She exercised a diplomatic smile and said, ‘I just wanted to make sure that you knew there was a potential conflict of interests.’
The producer nodded again, thanked her and then walked back to overseeing the progress of the next round’s preparations.
Charlotte came running over. ‘How long until this evening’s filming is finished?’
‘Why? Is there a problem?’
‘You and I need to get back home. We’re needed at the police station.’