Beth sat down hard on the chair, jarring herself back to reality. Her menu folder sat open on the table. She slammed it shut, got up and shoved it unceremoniously into the back of the cupboard where it belonged.
At the back, out of sight.
She should just throw the damn thing out. She couldn’t even manage to cook something as basic as roast beef, mashed potatoes and damn vegetables! She wasn’t fit to be a chef. She wasn’t good enough and she never would be.
She swiped angrily at the tears still pouring from her eyes. Suck it up, Beth, you’re just not good enough. It was time to face facts. She was someone who loved cooking but she could never be a proper cook.
She sat back down at the table, filled her wine glass to the brim and took a big drink. Is this what her life came to? A glorified maid? She looked at Helga, who was cleaning up the mess she’d made and for the first time since meeting her, she resented her presence. She just wanted to throw Helga out. And that frightened her. Who had she become? Helga was lovely. Here she was, washing the dishes and cleaning up the evidence of Beth’s fuck-up.
She downed the rest of her wine and refilled her glass. ‘Helga, can you get my tablet for me, please?’
Helga turned from the full sink, ‘Sure thing, honey.’ She dried her dripping hands and left the room to find it.
While she was gone, Beth laid her head down on the table and closed her aching eyes. They were so raw from crying they felt like she had broken glass as lids.
‘Here it is, Beth, oh!’ Helga said as she rushed back into the room. ‘Are you sleeping?’ she whispered as she crept closer.
‘No,’ Beth moaned, rocking her head back and forth on her folded arms. ‘I just wish I was dead.’
‘Oh, Beth, it’s not that bad, I swear.’ Helga slid into the chair next to her and patted her arm.
‘Helga,’ Beth croaked.
‘Yes?’
‘Please go away. I’m s…sorry, but I…I c…can’t…’
Beth felt Helga rise from her chair. ‘Sure,’ she said quietly, ‘I’ll be in my room if you need me. Goodnight, Beth.’
Beth waited until she heard the steps creaking as Helga went up to her room before she found the strength to open her eyes and lifted her head. Her tablet was there beside her on the table.
Beth dragged it closer to her and flipped the cover open. She typed Culinary Schools Canada into the search engine.
Pacific Institute of Culinary Arts jumped out at her and she clicked through to their website. It was gorgeous, but somehow that just made her feel even worse. She read through all the information she could find about the professional programs. Six months of pure cooking pleasure. And then she clicked into the fees. Holy Shit!
Eighteen thousand dollars! She slumped further into her chair, disappointment washing over her. There was no way she could afford that. No way at all. Not to mention the extra charges of twenty five hundred for uniform, toolkit, textbooks and registration, let alone accommodation. It was not possible.
She sat there for a long time thinking about how she could come up with that kind of money. The money she made from the guest house was put back into the ranch. Since the film company rented the land, the ranch was doing better financially, but it wasn’t until the final payment came through that they would really be out of the woods. And as good friends that she and Helga had become, she couldn’t ask her for that kind of money. But how else was she supposed to gain experience?
She glanced the remains of her dinner on the counter.
Obviously much-needed experience.
Except…maybe she could volunteer with the catering company looking after the film crew. She’d met them when she brought the German chocolate cake in three weeks ago. The lady in charge seemed really nice, even if the other chef was slightly standoffish.
She got up from the table and poured the rest of her wine down the sink. She needed to be ready for tomorrow.
‘Hi, Bob,’ Beth waved at the older man manning the gateway into the film set.
He waved back at her and opened the gate. ‘How are you today, Beth? Still working out there on the ranch?’
She rolled to a stop beside him. ‘Of course. We’re all getting ready for the filming to be moved out there. We’re really very lucky they decided to shoot in town first.’
‘Well, they’ve certainly been busy in here. Did you know every single person I’ve let through these gates has commented on your sister’s painting inside the town hall? You should be very proud of Rachel. I just wish she was here to see it.’ Bob smiled kindly at her, his eyes crinkling in the corners.
Beth knew people still had a hard time knowing whether or not if they should mention Rachel to her. That was one of the awful things about death. No one wanted to talk about the people who’ve passed.
‘Thank you, Bob. I’ll be sure to tell Mom you said so. She’ll be so pleased. And we are all really proud of Rachel, that painting is amazing. I’m so glad it’s there for everyone to enjoy.’
‘Well it’ll be famous now for sure, with it being featured in the movie and all.’
‘Rachel would have loved that,’ Beth smiled, thinking about the reaction her sister would have had knowing her art would be in a movie starring her favourite actress. ‘And how’s Jill, Bob? Is she feeling better?’
‘Yes, she sure is. She got the all-clear from the doctor last week too. Hopefully they’ve gotten all the cancer this time. I’ll tell her you asked. She’ll be so pleased.’ Bob stepped out of the way and waved Beth through the gate.
‘See you later, Bob,’ she called through her open window as she drove by.
She parked outside of Helga’s trailer, next to her new SUV.
Beth had meant to get here earlier in the morning. She’d wanted to get here at day break when she knew the crew kitchen would be prepping for the day, but Ben called around this morning and she’d spent longer talking to him than she meant to. And now she was running late.
She wasn’t sure if now was a good time to go and ask for a job. It had the potential to change her life and she was terrified they’d say no to her; she didn’t have a backup plan.
She knew it was time she stepped out of the shadows. Life was too short to live on the side lines. If she could get this job she would hopefully be so busy she’d be able to avoid Kelsey and Mark at least until the filming finished and by then she’d have enough experience to get a proper job in a kitchen somewhere far from Bassville and the drama she’d found herself in.
Taking a deep breath, she pulled the door handle toward her and shoved open the door of her old beat-up truck. She swung her cowboy boot-clad feet onto the pavement and, with a straight back, strode across the lane to the centre of the town square where the portable kitchen trailer and marquee were set up.
With a confidence she didn’t feel she walked up the steps of the trailer and knocked on the closed door.
She heard shouting coming from the inside and took a step back as the voice grew closer. Seconds later, the door flew back on its hinges.
‘Oh, it’s you, Cake Girl,’ the man jeered at her. He was intimidating, standing there in his white chef’s jacket. Beth thought he looked too tall and thin to be a chef but she recognised him from when she brought the cake when the crew had first arrived.