A Beginner's Guide To Salad

by Jennifer Joyce

  ‘Will you excuse me?’

  Here it comes, Billy thought. She was off. Not that he could complain. He’d had a good innings with Clare and had enjoyed their afternoon together. It had been a pleasant surprise and he was grateful for what it was.

  ‘I just need to pop to the ladies. I won’t be a minute. I’ll grab another round on the way back, yeah?’

  Billy knew Clare wasn’t just being polite, that she wasn’t planning to do a runner behind his back as she’d left her jacket behind. It was a nice jacket too, a belted black leather one that Billy bet Clare would look sexy as hell wearing. Billy usually felt self-conscious as he sat in a pub alone, but not today. Today he felt invincible. There was a beautiful woman willing to spend her afternoon with him, without even a hint of coercion. Billy felt his confidence raise another notch, a sensation he’d had little experience of before.

  ‘There he is. I told you he’d still be in here.’

  Billy cringed into the pint he was draining. Oh God, no.

  ‘Hey, Billy. Where’s your loser mate?’ Erin cackled as she sauntered towards him, arms laden with shopping bags. She dumped them on the bench next to Billy and plonked herself on a low stool. Billy waved to Ruth at the bar and shook his head when she asked if he wanted a drink.

  ‘You’re not on your own, are you?’ Ruth asked. ‘Where’s Theo?’

  Erin wrinkled her nose. ‘He’s pulled, hasn’t he?’ She took Billy’s shrug of his shoulders as an affirmative and turned towards Ruth, calling out across the pub. ‘Theo’s pulled some slapper. Probably shagging as we speak.’

  ‘Becki’s not a slapper, actually.’

  Billy groaned, squeezing his eyes shut. Childlike, he convinced himself that if he couldn’t see Clare, she wasn’t there. Could she have timed her re-entrance any shittier? He wondered whether Clare would snatch her lovely jacket from beside him or mark it as a loss before she stormed out of the pub.

  Thank you, Erin. Thank you very much.

  From: s.lynch

  To: billy.worth

  Subject: Tickets

  Good news! Bought the tickets for the reunion and booked the flights this morning so I’ll see you in August!

  How’s Ruth?

  From: billy.worth

  To: s.lynch

  Subject: Re: Tickets

  Cool! I have good news of my own. I have a date. An actual date! And I didn’t even meet her on the internet. Ruth’s friend almost ruined my chances but she must like me as she gave me her number before she left the pub. Result!

  Ruth’s fine. Over Gideon (turns out she felt the same way we did about him). She’s really looking forward to the reunion too!

  FIVE

  Ruth

  ‘Look at you, all domesticated. You’ll be having dinner parties next.’ Erin and I were in the kitchen, Erin perched daintily on the counter while I grilled a couple of salmon fillets and chopped the salad. It was hardly cordon-bleu-style cooking, but since I struggled to heat microwave pizzas, it was quite an achievement. ‘Who would you invite? Not me, obviously. I’m way too common for dinner parties.’

  ‘Do you think I’d host a dinner party and not invite you? You’d be my star guest.’

  ‘Really?’ Erin sounded genuinely surprised, her eyebrows and tone rising with the question. ‘Thanks, doll.’

  ‘You’re easily pleased.’

  ‘Ha! If only.’ Erin slipped off the worktop and headed for the fridge, sticking her head inside and emerging with two bottles of beer. ‘Did I tell you about Christian? The salsa guy?’ She proffered one of the bottles but I shook my head.

  ‘I don’t think I can drink beer on this diet.’

  ‘Not even one?’

  I caved in and grabbed the bottle. One would do no harm. ‘So what happened with Christian?’

  ‘Not a lot.’ Erin dragged out a chair and sat at the table, slumping against the surface. ‘Oh, he was going like the clappers, having a jolly old time. I barely felt a thing. No wonder his girlfriend always has a face like a slapped arse. Frustration. Pure frustration. Poor cow.’

  ‘So you won’t be seeing him again?’

  ‘No, I will not be seeing him again. Total waste of time.’ Erin rummaged in the kitchen drawers for a bottle opener and opened both our bottles before slumping back at the table. ‘So who would you invite to your dinner party then? Apart from your star guest?’

  I gave the salmon a prod. How did you know they were cooked? ‘I’d have to invite Billy.’

  ‘Billy? But he’s your housemate. And quite boring. Why would you invite him?’

  ‘Billy’s not boring and he’s one of my best friends. Plus, he’s a better cook than me. I’d have him prepare everything while I made the table look pretty.’

  ‘Good plan.’ Erin tipped her bottle at me in appreciation. ‘You wouldn’t invite Theo though, would you?’

  I spluttered. ‘Course not. What do you take me for?’ I gave the salmon another prod. ‘Do you think this is cooked?’

  Erin joined me at the grill and the pair of us peered at the fish, neither having a clue. Erin was a worse cook than I was.

  ‘Shall we give it a go?’

  Erin took a contemplative swig. ‘Yeah, why not? What’s the worst that can happen?’

  We could die.

  I kept my gob shut and served the salmon onto two plates instead.

  ‘What’s she doing here and why is she drinking my beer?’ Theo paused on the threshold of the kitchen, leaning against the doorframe as he eyed Erin with deep suspicion.

  ‘Erin’s my friend and therefore welcome in my home. But sorry about the beers. I’ll replace them.’

  Theo remained in the doorway, observing us through narrowed eyes. I hoped he wasn’t going to ask to join us. My diet was quite restrictive and the portions pretty small, so I wasn’t in the mood for sharing. He stepped fully into the room and I held my breath.

  ‘Where’s Billy?’

  ‘He’s out on a date.’ I slowly placed the plates onto the table, hoping the careful movement wouldn’t draw any attention to my food.

  ‘A date? Billy? Are you sure?’

  ‘Yes, I’m sure. He’s with some girl he met at the pub.’ I placed the bowl of salad in the middle of the table, not bothering to hide it. There was plenty of salad to go around so there was no need to be stingy.

  ‘There’s a first time for everything, I guess.’ Theo sauntered towards the fridge and I was relieved when he pulled out a massive, greasy meat feast pizza that had been tempting me since the weekend big shop. Not only was he disposing of the temptation, he wouldn’t want to share my salmon with that yummy tyre-sized pizza all to himself. Although, if he wanted to swap…

  ‘Do you have to be so horrible? Billy is a nice young man with a lot to offer.’

  I gaped as Erin jumped to Billy’s defence – hadn’t she labelled him boring only a few minutes ago?

  Theo sniggered. ‘Name one thing our Bill has to offer any woman.’

  ‘Well…’ Erin filled her plate with salad while trying to fill her brain with an answer. The room fell into an unbearable silence. Could she really think of nothing positive about Billy? When Erin’s plate was piled high with salad and she still hadn’t mustered one measly point, I felt I had to wade in on Billy’s behalf.

  ‘He’s kind and caring and mature. He can look after of himself unlike some people. He’s funny and smart and he makes a gorgeous curry. You should try it, Erin, it’s amazing.’

  ‘Sounds like someone wants to shag our Bill. I’ll be listening out for creaking bedsprings tonight.’ Theo winked at me while I glared back.

  ‘Grow up. Billy and I are friends. A girl can appreciate a man’s good points without wanting to jump into bed with him.’

  ‘Hmm, yeah right. Erin, do you believe that?’

  I turned to my friend who shot me an apologetic look before shaking her head. ‘Utter bullshit.’ Theo grinned in triumph, the smug bastard.

  ‘She would say that. Erin jumps into bed
with everyone. She’d probably even shag you.’

  The kitchen erupted into gagging sounds and protests to the contrary while I sat back with glee and polished off my salmon. I wasn’t entirely convinced it was cooked through but I was hungry and had no alternative option.

  I swallowed the last piece of chicken and fell back in my chair, rubbing my stomach. It was a shock to find that I was actually full. That day’s grilled chicken and salad had turned out to be a huge success, unlike the previous day when the chicken had still been pink, practically bleeding, in the middle.

  ‘That was lovely. Thank you.’ Asking – or begging, if I’m being completely honest – Billy to cook the chicken for me had been a genius move.

  ‘You’re welcome. But you know this means you have to wash up, right?’ I played along, giving a drawn out sigh as I gathered the plates but I’d happily wash the dishes if it meant someone else cooked my meals. At least washing dishes wouldn’t poison me.

  Billy made a cup of tea and sat at the table to chat to me while I cleared up but in the end he joined me at the sink to dry. He’d make someone a good husband one day.

  ‘I’m just going to jump in the shower before A Beginner’s Guide,’ I told Billy as I dried my hands on his tea towel. Twenty minutes later I was nestled on the sofa in a pair of clean pyjamas, my wet hair still encased in a towel. The opening credits began and my mouth watered, anticipating a sugary treat I was no longer permitted. Damn this diet!

  Billy jumped up from the sofa. ‘Oh, I almost forgot…’ The rest of his words were lost as he dashed off towards the kitchen. I heard the fridge open and close, followed by the rapid footsteps of Billy’s return. I’d have to remind him that I couldn’t eat chocolate on my diet. And then I’d let him talk me into eating a tiny piece.

  ‘You know, I can’t actually eat chocolate on my diet. Although I have been very good…’ I paused as Billy stepped into the room. Something was wrong. Billy was carrying a large bowl, which wasn’t unusual in itself as we sometimes shared a bowl of popcorn, but this didn’t smell like popcorn. It didn’t smell like sweet cocoa goodness either.

  ‘It’s ok. It’s not chocolate.’ This, I’d already established. ‘How insensitive do you think I am?’ So what was it then? A mountain of Haribo? Ooh, Jelly Babies! ‘Ta-dah!’ Billy presented the bowl with a flourish before flopping onto the sofa beside me. I looked inside the bowl. I looked at Billy. I looked back inside the bowl, my excitement well and truly slapped down.

  ‘It’s fruit.’

  Billy beamed. I sat on my hands so I didn’t swipe the grin off his chops. ‘Not just fruit. Fruit salad. I made it myself.’

  ‘You chopped up a load of fruit?’ Big whoop. Give the guy a Michelin star.

  ‘Yep.’ He looked pleased with himself. ‘I know it isn’t technically allowed on your diet, but I figured fruit is healthy so it’d be ok as a treat.’

  Who gave a toss about healthy? I wanted chocolate. Sweet, fattening chocolate. Screw the diet and screw the reunion. But no, let’s not be hasty. Billy was right. Chocolate was bad for the next six months. I took a couple of deep, calming breaths, envisioning Zack’s face when he saw me glide into the school hall looking svelte and glamorous.

  Svelte and glamorous. Svelte and glamorous.

  ‘Thank you, Billy. That was very considerate of you.’ I plucked a slice of apple from the bowl and popped it into my mouth, choking back a sob at its lack of sugary creaminess.

  SIX

  Ruth

  The bus ride into work was as hellish as ever, cramped and damp with the added bonus of vomit streaking down the back of the front seat and pooling on the floor, but the journey wasn’t the reason for my drooping shoulders and downturned mouth as I shuffled into reception. It was a Monday morning, so of course I was feeling a little blue (it would be abnormal if I was happy to be at my place of employment first thing on a Monday) but again, that wasn’t the reason for my slump. I had failed at another diet.

  After the Simply Salad Diet hadn’t worked out, I’d started a new diet, which was still heavily salad based (which worked out well as I still had a fridge full of the stuff) but had the luxury of adding a small portion of grilled chicken, salmon or tuna and I’d also taken it upon myself to add a second slice of wholemeal toast for breakfast. The new diet was going well and I managed to stick to it. Until Friday. And Saturday and Sunday.

  ‘Morning!’ Quinn’s bright features faded as she took in my misery guts features. ‘Don’t tell me you’re still hung over after Friday.’

  Friday, aka Diet Destroyer Day.

  ‘No. I’m not hung over.’ If only it were that simple. I’d take a couple of paracetamol, buy a large strawberry milkshake and a bacon butty and I’d be sorted.

  ‘It was a great party though, wasn’t it?’

  I rested my elbows on the reception desk and allowed myself to crash. ‘Hmm, great party.’

  Friday’s party had been in honour of the purchasing manager, who was leaving H. Woods and moving on to somewhere far superior (or so I guessed. After working at H. Woods, the only way was up, after all). The party was in full swing and I was enjoying myself, drinking vodka and diet coke and dancing away on the sticky makeshift dance floor at The Bonnie Dundee. And then the buffet was opened. Uh-oh. I tried, really I did, but the lure of all those sausage rolls, greasy chicken legs, crisps and cake was too much. I demolished the buffet, not even giving the token bowl of salad a second glance.

  I intended to resume the diet the following day, but the weekend turned into a calorie disaster. I joined Billy and Theo in a Saturday night takeaway curry, complete with onion bhajis, popadoms and samosas on the side, and I visited my mum and dad on Sunday where I ate a huge roast followed by sticky toffee pudding.

  ‘You should have seen me on Saturday. I thought I was going to die. I couldn’t get out of bed until three o’clock.’

  See, that’s where I went wrong. I should have drunk myself into oblivion like Quinn, rendering me comatose all weekend and thus unable to consume any calories. I made a mental note of the plan for next time.

  Quinn looked over my shoulder, her eyes widening as she stood up straight. ‘Kelvin’s car just turned into the car park.’

  With a yelp, I scurried through reception to the stairwell, racing up the first half of the stairs before I was reduce to a crawl. I still had plenty of time though as Kelvin was even fatter than me so he’d still be de-wedging himself from his car by now and he’d still be sweating on the first step by the time I reached the office. The blinds were open and both computers were switched on by the time Kelvin wheezed into my office. I was sitting at my desk, somehow controlling my breathing while composing an email. It was to Stephen and Billy, but Kelvin didn’t have to know that.

  ‘I’ve got a meeting scheduled with Angelina in ten minutes. Bring us coffee – and I spotted a packet of Jammy Dodgers in the kitchen yesterday.’

  ‘Good morning to you too,’ I muttered as Kelvin shut himself in his office. I raced to finish my email and sent it before heading off to the kitchen. I found the Jammy Dodgers but they were labelled ‘Lisa’, so I shoved them to the very back of the cupboard, where Kelvin would be too lazy to look, and filled a plate with his usual chocolate digestives instead.

  ‘Send Angelina straight through when she arrives,’ Kelvin said by way of thanks as I placed the tray of coffee and biscuits on his desk. ‘And we’re not to be disturbed, under any circumstances. This is a very important meeting.’

  ‘And quite urgent too, I should imagine.’

  Kelvin narrowed his piggy eyes at me. ‘And what do you mean by that?’

  ‘It’s first thing on a Monday morning. You’ve barely had time to take your jacket off, so it must be urgent if you need to see Angelina right this second.’

  ‘It is. Extremely urgent. We have important matters to discuss.’

  And it had nothing to do with the bulge in his trousers, the randy, disgusting bastard.

  ‘Knock, knock!’ Angelina had
arrived, singing out instead of actually knocking on the door like a normal person. ‘Sorry I’m late. I was hoping to catch a glimpse of the new purchasing manager before I left the office, but Sammy’s taken him on a tour of the building.’

  ‘Never mind, you’re here now.’ Kelvin turned to me, his fingers itching to whip down his fly. ‘Is that the phone ringing out there? Remember, we’re not to be disturbed. Close the door.’

  I did as I was told, shuddering as I imagined what was about to happen in there. Kelvin and Angelina had been having an affair for months. And by affair, I mean a series of quickies in his office.

  I hurried away from the door, worried I may actually hear the affair in action, and answered the phone.

  ‘Is Kelvin there?’

  ‘Who may I ask is speaking?’ I knew who it was, of course, but I had to do something fun to brighten my day.

  ‘It’s Susan. Put Kelvin on.’

  I paused, relishing the thought of annoying the hell out of Kelvin’s stroppy little wife. ‘I’m afraid Mr Shuttleworth is in a meeting. Can I take a message?’

  ‘No, you bloody can’t take a message. What I have to say to my husband is none of your damn business. I want to be put through to him.’

  ‘I’m afraid I’ve been asked not to disturb Mr Shuttleworth. I can ask him to call you back shortly.’ Very shortly. Kelvin wouldn’t last long enough to allow the coffees to grow cold.

  ‘You’ll put me through to him now.’

  ‘I’m afraid I -’

  ‘And I’m afraid you’ll lose your pissing job if you don’t put me through to my husband.’ The more irate she became, the wider my smile stretched. ‘So stop being an annoying bitch and let me speak to Kelvin.’

  ‘Mr Shuttleworth is in an important meeting and was quite clear he is not to be disturbed.’