Jojo's French Escape

by Lorraine Wilson

  Considering that when the sex tape video hit the internet I took to my room and hid under my duvet, I know I’ve come a long way. I remember Mum saying quite tartly that it was a bit too late to be covering myself up now, wasn’t it? Like locking the stable door after the horse has bolted.

  There’s nothing like a bit of support from family.

  ‘You’ve got nothing to be ashamed of.’ Poppy places a hand on my elbow. For her distractedness she can be very perceptive sometimes. ‘You know if anyone ever gives you any grief we’ll set the dogs on them, celebrity chef or not.’

  I look down at the two tiny Chihuahuas, one miniature Yorkie and the blind ex-hunting dog who happens to be a total softy. My mouth quirks involuntarily into a smile at the idea of them defending me, though I’m sure they’d all give it a good go. The Chihuahuas in particular are utterly fearless. Barney is the only one who might be capable of actually defending me but all anyone has to do is give him a biscuit, scratch him behind his ears and he’ll roll over to have his tummy tickled.

  ‘I’m sure that won’t be necessary, Poppy.’ I smile. ‘Actually I’ve always wanted to learn from a professional chef so you’re right, this could be a good thing.’

  I turn my back to her to put our mugs into the sink and decide I’ll make sure it’s a good thing. It’s supposed to be healthy to step out of your comfort zone and I’ve got to get used to facing the outside world again. Les Coquelicots has been my refuge and while I’m worried about Callum O’Connor rocking my lifeboat I have to admit I’m the teensiest bit excited about meeting him. Okay, maybe more than a teeny, tiny bit excited.

  I’ve always liked cookery shows from the how-to variety to competition and reality shows. I used to watch them with Gran, cup of tea and piece of freshly baked cake in hand. Of all the celebrity chefs Callum O’Connor is undoubtedly the hottest.

  But that has nothing to do with why I’m starting to feel a little bit excited about meeting him. That’ll be because I’m interested to learn from a professional chef. It has nothing to do with his piercing blue eyes and alpha male personality.

  Honest.

  Last time I worked alongside a fanciable celeb it ended in emotional carnage. I’ve been there, done that and got the sex tape to show for it. I won’t make the same mistake again.

  Chapter 2

  ‘I hope you live a life you’re proud of. If you find you’re not, I hope you have the strength to start over all over again’

  F. Scott Fitzgerald

  From sallyvickers89@gmail.com

  To joannagrant@thestickybun.co.uk

  Subject: Time to Move On

  Come on JoJo, you can’t ignore me for ever. Can’t we be grown up about what happened and put it all behind us? I understand you’re jealous that I was the one who got to be with Aiden in the end, but we all need to move on.

  I would like the three of us to meet up, to sit down and have a civilised chat, like adults. Talking of which you need to tell your sister Annabel to grow up and stop yelling insults at us. It’s very undignified and her language is atrocious.

  All the best,

  Sally

  From annabelgrant@thestickybun.co.uk

  To joannagrant@thestickybun.co.uk

  Subject: Miss you

  I miss you lovely. Are you ever coming home? Dad said to let you know there’s been an offer on the café and will you get in touch with him? I hope you will. He misses you too, you know, and I think you’re going to have to get some documents witnessed, to do with the sale?

  Maybe I’ll have to come over to France to see you if you haven’t got time to come to me. I could bring the papers with me. Your very own personal courier!

  Lots of love and xxxx

  Annabel

  I’ve read Sally’s email five times and I’m still boiling inside. She wants me to be grown up about it? Why can’t they just leave me alone? I’m so angry I want to throw something or yell, but I can’t without Poppy hearing, and she’d be upset for me. It’s like she actually feels what I’m feeling and then I end up having to comfort her and it’s all messed up frankly.

  I wish I could go for a run – that usually helps me cope with overwhelming emotions – but I haven’t time. Callum O’Connor is arriving any minute now and this really isn’t the emotional state I want to be in when he does. Why do Aiden and Sally want to see me? It can’t really be because they want to have an ‘adult’ conversation. As if. With anyone else I’d think they want my forgiveness to make themselves feel better. Maybe Sally does, a bit. I’d like to think there’s a little bit of guilt or regret in there given we were friends, we saw each other every day, danced together, drank together and cried together. I can imagine how Aiden manipulated her. He’s good at that.

  He certainly doesn’t care about my forgiveness. He’s completely amoral. When the empathy gene was being handed out he didn’t get in the queue. I really think he believes life is one big Aiden show, and everyone around him is just a bit-part actor in the drama of his life.

  I think it’s much more likely they want to create more drama out of this somehow. I always used to joke that Sally was a drama queen. Hearing her exaggerated tales used to be funny. Until I became a victim of her rewriting of events. Well, she can send as many emails as she likes, I’m not going back to talk to them or do some stupid spin-off show. Joanna Grant, One Year On.

  I look in the mirror and stare at the beautiful turquoise sundress Poppy bought me from the market at Mirepoix. I smooth the fabric down over my hips. I love it. It’s knee-length so not too revealing but it’s pretty figure-hugging. Having larger than average breasts can make some dresses look almost indecent. I don’t think I’ve got a vest top that would go underneath it though. Most of my wardrobe is still in England at my parents’ house. I stare critically at the cleavage-hugging bodice and try to tug it up a bit. Sod it, I’m wearing it. I can’t meet Callum O’Connor in ripped denim shorts and a T-shirt. He practically oozes Gaelic charm from every pore and he’s pretty damned sexy.

  But that’s not the reason I’m determined to look nice. It’s for my own benefit. I shouldn’t have to hide under baggy clothes. I’ve got nothing to be ashamed of.

  So there. I address my reflection in the mirror.

  At least I think I know my motives. It’s so confusing being me nowadays. I overthink stuff, I know I do. It comes from spending too much time alone and not really sharing things with anyone, except Poppy. I’m not sure I recognise the woman looking back at me in the mirror. My face is thinner and tanned and my long, light blonde hair has turned a shade of white blonde in the sunshine. I’ve regained the weight I lost in the early months. That’s the effect of French patisserie combined with weak will power for you. I look healthy though, just different from the old me.

  Maybe if I don’t recognise myself then Callum O’Connor won’t either. I’m ‘Just Joanna’ who helps in the guesthouse. No one special. Move along, nothing to see here and all that.

  I run a hand over the beautiful turquoise cotton fabric that skims the curve of my hips and an unwanted image of the sex tape video comes to my mind. It’s forever burned into the hard disk of my memory banks, the image replay of me putting on a show for Aiden. He used to like watching me strip and touching myself. It’s why it looks like I’m staring right into the video camera. It’s why most people think I was complicit. That I did it to extend my fifteen minutes of fame.

  It’s why most people seem to think I got exactly what I deserved.

  I was, in fact, staring directly at Aiden who was leaning back against his desk, just to the right of his open laptop. The laptop that was recording footage of me. I didn’t think anything of the laptop at the time. I mean, who would? It was always on his desk and usually open.

  I know, because I’ve been told, that it goes on to show me enthusiastically giving my narcissistic boyfriend a blow job and then getting fucked by him, doggy style. He always did have a high opinion of his bottom.

  I say I’ve been told becaus
e I couldn’t bring myself to watch the rest of it. Annabel watched it for me and told me what was in it. I had to know. Quite why I’m a slut for having sex with my boyfriend in the privacy of a bedroom I don’t know. Maybe my ‘sin’ was to enjoy it. I like sex and I miss it but the humiliation was far too high a price to pay for a sex life.

  It’s why, despite wanting to look attractive today, I don’t have any designs on Callum. Dating someone you’re working with is never a good idea but dating someone whose celebrity would put me straight back into the firing line would just be suicidal.

  I won’t ever let myself be humiliated like that again.

  I try again to hike up the neckline of the dress but to no avail. It’s like the dress is saying, ‘You have boobs. Live with it!’

  Fine, the dress wins the argument. I have boobs and I refuse to be ashamed of them. I head downstairs, Pickwick, Peanut and Treacle following at my heels like my own personal entourage. I feel slightly sick. I’m excited to meet Callum but I’m also nervous. I’ve built myself a safe life here. I don’t want anyone upsetting the balance just as I’m finding my feet again.

  By the time I get outside Leo’s jeep is pulling up, back from the airport, and both Leo and Callum are getting out of the car. The dogs desert me instantly and converge on Callum, mutt-mobbing him. Even Barney trots out of the kitchen and heads towards the group, picking up on the excited woofs of the others. Callum picks up Pickwick and is cuddling him. He certainly gets full marks so far. Poppy really ought to get a sign made for the guesthouse: ‘Must love dogs’. It’s a bit of a house rule around here.

  ‘I’m glad you changed your mind and decided to come after all.’ Poppy greets Callum by kissing both his cheeks, French style, while Leo grabs Callum’s bags from the boot. ‘I think you’ll like it here.’

  I hadn’t realised that Callum coming was ever under any doubt. I wish I didn’t have mixed feelings about him being here, but I suppose it’s natural. I just need to rise above them and be brave, new life and all that.

  ‘Cal, this is Joanna,’ Leo introduces me. I fold my arms across my chest, suddenly self-conscious about the amount of cleavage my extrovert dress is showing.

  ‘Yes, I know, I recognise you from Sex in the Suburbs. My twin sister is a fan of the show. I thought you normally preferred to be called JoJo, or was that just on TV?’ Callum is smiling politely and he looks friendly but there’s something cool in the way he’s appraising me that unnerves me.

  I know he can be tough, I’ve been watching downloads of Callum O’Connor’s Kitchen Cook Off on my iPad ever since Poppy said he was coming. In that series he goes into restaurants and tells the head chef everything they’re getting wrong. To be fair he does then help them to make improvements before they go on to compete with other restaurants, but he can be pretty … intense. It didn’t help any anxiety I felt about cooking this evening. I thought maybe it was hyped up for the camera, to create conflict, but there’s something in his expression now that unnerves me.

  ‘You can call me JoJo if you like.’ I smile at him, hoping to encourage a thaw. ‘Should I call you Cal?’

  I instantly feel like I’ve been over-friendly, like I’m coming across as a fan girl he needs to fend off. The brief pause before he answers surely confirms it. Or it’s even worse, maybe he’s seen the sex tape. I hug my arms even tighter around me and do my best to avoid direct eye contact. He really does have the most piercing blue eyes; the camera didn’t lie about that. He also has the kind of penetrating gaze that makes me feel like he can see absolutely everything.

  ‘Sure, no problem.’ Cal flashes me the same polite smile as we make our way into the kitchen and then he turns to greet Poppy. I can’t help noticing she gets treated to a genuine, wide smile that makes his eyes crinkle just a little bit.

  Hmm.

  ‘We’re going up to the Château to see my parents before dinner,’ Leo says. ‘Would you like to join us?’

  ‘No, I’ll stay with the dogs,’ I say quickly, even though we all know Barney is happy to snooze in his basket and the little ones are always welcome up at the Château.

  ‘I think I’ll stay here too, Leo, in case Joanna needs a hand with dinner.’ Poppy stands close to me. I know she’s worried about me from the frown lines on her forehead. ‘We’ll see you later, okay?’

  Once Callum and Leo have gone I let out a sigh. I hadn’t even realised I was holding my breath, nor how tense I was. It’s the first time I’ve met anyone from the celeb scene since I moved here. The fact he says he’s seen Sex in the Suburbs makes it so much worse. He probably watched my life implode. I was naive to hope he might arrive without any preconceived ideas or prejudice about me.

  I bite my lip and try to swallow down my irritation. Then I turn to Poppy and make sure there’s a smile on my face for her benefit.

  ‘You’re going to help with dinner?’ I ask, raising an eyebrow. Poppy isn’t exactly known for her culinary skills and is basically happy to leave the kitchen as my domain.

  ‘Well, I can make you a cup of tea if you’d like one?’ Poppy asks. ‘I just didn’t feel right about going off and leaving you on your own.’

  ‘I’m fine, Poppy, honestly, you don’t need to worry about me. I’ll have that tea though, thanks,’ I say, sitting down at the table and getting out my phone so I can run through my checklist for dinner. I’m determined it will be perfect.

  ‘And maybe a tiny bit of chocolate?’ Poppy heads for the kettle. ‘After all our mothers aren’t here to tell us we’ll ruin our dinner.’

  I think my consumption of chocolate is probably low down on my mother’s list of the things she worries about with me. I’ve heard plenty about Poppy’s mother though and can appreciate Poppy might have had to move to another country to escape the constant criticism, or at least keep it at a distance.

  ‘Go on then. I’m always happy to be plied with tea and chocolate. You’re very good to me. Can I marry you?’ I ask and smile when Poppy giggles.

  ‘I would but I’m already marrying Leo.’ She turns from the kettle, leaning back against the counter while it boils, and faces me. ‘Should I be calling you JoJo? Is that what you prefer to be called?’

  I look up from my list, considering my answer.

  ‘I don’t know. My family and friends call me JoJo but I’ve got used to being called Joanna. Honestly I don’t mind. You can call me what you like, it’s no biggie.’

  I left JoJo behind in England and thought I was happy to see the back of her, to reinvent myself. But I’m in a better place now so maybe I could be JoJo again. Odd that Callum ‘Cal’ O’Connor should be the one to reintroduce my nickname.

  ‘Did it go okay, do you think?’ I frown down at my list. Have I played it too safe? Maybe I should be trying something more complicated for dinner but I’d rather cook something I’m confident about and do it well. I’m feeding Cal, not trying to win his approval.

  Yeah right. I grimace inwardly.

  ‘Of course. It was fine, nothing to worry about,’ Poppy says firmly.

  ‘I wasn’t a bit … you know?’

  ‘Absolutely not.’ She places a bag of Maltesers next to my phone.

  She must’ve got them in specially, which is so sweet of her. She knows they’re my favourite.

  ‘And you look gorgeous in that dress,’ she adds.

  ‘Hmm.’ I glance down at my cleavage. ‘Maybe I’ll go and get changed.’

  ‘Absolutely not.’ Poppy snatches the bag of Maltesers and holds it out of my reach. ‘And anyway, if you change now it will look like you dressed up specially to meet him.’

  ‘Which I did.’ I roll my eyes. ‘You made me.’

  I don’t add that I didn’t need too much persuading. I was hardly going to meet the cool celebrity chef wearing my old leggings and bobbly cardigan.

  ‘Yes, but you don’t want him to know you dressed up for him. Play it cool.’

  ‘Poppy, I’m not playing it any way. I told you I’m not interested in a relationship, I’
m just interested to meet a professional chef.’ My cheeks heat up as I remember Cal’s intense blue eyes and that penetrating gaze. If anyone is playing it cool it’s him, only I suspect he’s not pretending. I’m a little bit disappointed about how meeting him went. He thinks I’m just another fan girl, which I kind of am, a little bit, but that’s as far as it goes. ‘So, no attempts at matchmaking, okay?’

  ‘I s’pose.’ Poppy nervously chews her lip as she places two mugs of tea on the table and lets me have the chocolate back. ‘Actually, there is something else I wanted to talk to you about, while Leo isn’t around.’

  ‘Oh?’ I pop a Malteser in my mouth.

  ‘You know I want another dog?’

  Ah, so that’s it. She’s clearly been looking at rescue websites again.

  ‘You always want another dog.’ I laugh, relaxing as I realise the subject is moving on from Cal.

  ‘Well, I could do with some help, to, you know, support my position.’ Her eyes are wide and hopeful. ‘I’m not asking much, just a little discreet lobbying perhaps.’

  ‘In other words, you want me to help you gang up on Leo to persuade him to give in?’

  ‘Something like that.’ Poppy chews her lip again. ‘You see, there’s this puppy.’

  Her grin is half pleading, half rueful and I can’t help grinning back.

  ‘And I suppose this puppy is exceptionally cute? Yes, of course, ask a silly question.’ I roll my eyes. ‘What’s his story then?’

  ‘He was abandoned when he was only four months old, poor little thing.’ Poppy’s eyes flash with uncharacteristic anger.

  ‘You really think Leo will say no?’ I ask. ‘You could dig your heels in. Say there’s always room for a little one … ask for him to be your wedding present?’

  ‘I can try. I mean we’ll be a five dog household once we’re living together full time and six isn’t really that much more than five.’ Poppy shrugs. ‘I can’t bear to leave him in rescue, he’s a sweet little thing. I can’t stop thinking about him. Maybe if I can’t, you could possibly …’