Almost Official

by Ruby Reade

  'Thank you for the lovely insight. I know all that, but it is complicated with work. Dad is trying to get me to agree to keep seeing Amy until the work is done and keep the pair of them sweet, so we get paid.' I slump back down again. I thought getting out for a drink would make me feel better, not worse.

  'How do you expect to get back with Lucy if you're still seeing that sket?' He asks the reasonable question.

  'How am I supposed to run a business if I don't get paid?' I ask the more practical one and he nods in acceptance of defeat. 'Anyway, I was hoping she wouldn't have to find out.' I say with a grin and his head shoots back up.

  'No, no, no, no, no. Haven't you learnt anything? Anything at all?' He asks me incredulous.

  'Nope. But it is the only option I have.' I say more confidently than I feel about pulling it off. If I can just keep them apart, then things will all work out nicely. Anyway, we don't have long left on the job so as soon as that is done then I am home and dry.

  'The way your luck has been going mate, I would say it's a dicey game. And if anyone asks, I never knew. Jen would jack me in, in a flash if it gets out.'

  'You have it all wrong, my luck is about to change and it's on the up. It couldn't get any worse, so there is only one way for it to go. Better.' I stand up and gulp the remaining five mouthfuls creating too much gas to handle. When I let out a large burp, the release is instant. 'Let's go.'

  ***

  I pull up onto my drive followed by Pete's mum's car. If he hadn't blocked me in, I would be sorely tempted to drive straight back off again when I see Amy huddled on my step. She is making so much noise that I am surprised she doesn't get arrested for disturbing the peace.

  I sigh and step out of the car. The last thing I want to do is give her a hug, but that is exactly what I do. I try to imagine pound signs while I stroke her hair. 'Shhh, shhh, there, there, baby girl. I told you not to get upset I wasn't saying anything bad about you. I thought I wasn't good enough for you baby.' I soothe and almost make myself sick.

  'You...huh huh...you re-eally...huh huh...upset meeeee...huh huh. But I forgive you.' She sobs and chokes into my neck.

  I hear Pete getting out of the car behind me, curiously watching the unfolding drama. I suppose we must look funny. She is desperately trying to cling onto me, but I am trying to comfort her, yet not touch any part of her so we look like we are doing a strange sort of dance on the front lawn.

  'Your dad told me how you always push girls away if you really like them because you don't get hurt.' What the fuck? 'I just want to promise you I would never ever hurt you and I will always want to be with you. I think, I mean I know, I love you.' What. What. What?

  She is like a boa constrictor suffocating and holding me so I can't breathe, and I feel dizzy. She is squeezing all rational thought out of me.

  'See you inside mate.' Pete has had enough and leaves me to it. That's it, go inside and drink my beer while I am dying here. Thanks, mate.

  'Really? My dad shouldn't have said that to you.' I tell her, prizing her fingers off my neck and try to smile, but I can't quite manage it.

  'Don't you worry about a thing. You have me now. Remember, anything that upsets you, upsets me so I want you to cheer up while I go and make myself pretty for tonight.' She kisses me on my open mouth before trotting over to her car and waving before she drives off. Happy she has her own way.

  I lean against the car door and want to tear my hair out. I am going to murder my dad for this.

  On cue my phone comes to life and I steel myself, ready to head into a full scale rage off.

  'Dad.'

  'Kevin.' He says, but I stay silent. I want to let him make the first move and see what he has to say for himself. 'I know what you are going to say, but don't. I have had a day of it. You and your wandering cock has landed the company in the shit. So, don't you even think of going off the deep end at me for expecting you to get us back out of it. I have done all the smoothing over and now it's your turn.' He is still in stern business mode, and there is no arguing with him when he has decided he is right. I still go ahead anyway.

  'Dad. This is ridiculous. The girl is crazy and wants to plan our future together. I won't do it. Her dad can't refuse to pay on the grounds I won't take his fucking daughter out. What a fucking mistake she has been.'

  'Granted, you didn't make a good choice, but it’s only until I can get the money out of her dad. Just take her out and become ill, then stay out of her way.' He sighs down the phone at me. I can picture him in his office running his hands into his knotted hair and searching for a fag. I hope my hair lasts as well as his.

  'Look son, I wouldn't ask you to do something if it wasn't important. She is a pretty girl, take her out and I will sort the rest out, okay.' He tells me more than asks. I hear the lighter click and deep breath out.

  'No, I know you wouldn't. Shit.' I collapse onto my front doorstep. 'Just call me as soon as you get the money.'

  'Sure. Talk later.'

  'I can't wait for that call.' I say, but he has already ended the conversation.

  The door opens behind me. I look up at Pete who is waiting with two cracked beers.

  'Thought you might be in need.' He says handing me one.

  I don't answer, instead gratefully taking it and swallowing half in one.

  'So? What happened?' He asks, dropping down next to me.

  'Welcome to male whores are us.' I roll my eyes and finish my drink.

  'Hey, and you said it couldn't get worse.' Pete helpfully reminds me.

  'I'm scared she is going to kidnap me and lock me away in her room.' I confess.

  'I guess it depends on the girl in question, but that is some men's fantasy.' He muses.

  I hate my life.

  Chapter 12

  Lucy

  Back at work and already my face is aching from fake smiles. I have only been here twenty minutes.

  My muscles rejoice when the smile falls off my face as Kevin walks through the door.

  Is there no escaping this man?

  'That jumper, I don't like it. It detracts from your pretty face.' He says bluntly, no hello, no fake chitchat, just a back-handed compliment.

  'Hello, I'm fine, thank you for asking.' I answer pulling a face at him. See I can act childish to.

  'I must have sinned in a previous life to have to suffer the punishment of seeing you again.' He retorts but is smiling.

  'Oh that is, a shame. I, on the other hand, am delighted every time you walk through the door. I might suggest if you don't want to see me then buy coffee from somewhere I don't work, or have one at home.' I say giving him a full-on glare hoping that he will get the hint.

  'You know you shouldn't listen to anything she says, hopefully she will be sacked soon.' He loudly whispers to Miranda.

  'Lucy is a brilliant manager, and if I didn't know better, I would say your behaviour is classic of someone in love.' She says flicking her hair and walking off into the kitchen and leaving me alone with him. Bloody staff.

  'I'm not that desperate.' He charmingly calls out to her.

  'A coffee to go, with a side order of spit, for the man who loves me please Mike.' I ask Mike who has unwittingly walked out into the twilight zone.

  'I think this is more of a dislike/hate relationship than a love/hate one.' He tells me with a smile.

  'I think you might be onto something there. I dislike how you are being with me today, and I hate you. Is that what you meant?' I ask fluttering my eyelashes.

  'Not exactly.' He admits.

  'So, you love me, love, love, loooooove meeeeee.' I sing at him to see just how annoying I can be. If it works, he might stop coming in and bothering me.

  'Lucy.' He warns.

  'You do, you luuuuuurve me. And I am the luckiest girl in the world.' I finish with a sigh and goo goo eyes.

  He shakes his head and walks out, leaving his coffee behind, Mike bewildered, and me and Miranda hysterical.

  Well that certainly livened up my day.


  I watch him walk down the road and my stomach sinks. The laughter dies out, and I know I am going to spend the rest of the day anxiously watching the door half wanting, and half dreading him coming back.

  I miss our play arguments, winding each other up until one of us cracks unable to keep a straight face any longer. I wonder if he laughs with her like that.

  'Luce, I need six cappuccinos and two mint chocolates to go please honey.' Kate calls out to me as she walks over.

  'You been relegated to the coffee run now?' I ask grabbing the paper cups and swiftly getting on with her order.

  'Huh. Not by choice, trust me. Stacey decided that she was sick today which really annoys, oh my god. That is the man that you, you know.' She doesn't finish distracted by the sight of Nigel.

  'Ssssssshut up. I know.' I hiss at her. 'He also happens to be my new boss.' I stop and smile at him when he raises an eyebrow at us whispering to each other.

  The night Alex told me I had the job, me and the girls decided it was an appropriate time to celebrate at the Dogs, toasting my newly employed status.

  Nigel walked in looking all rich and perfume advert material. 'I love that man.' Just popped out loudly causing him to turn around and stare at me.

  Now as mildly embarrassing this was, it could easily be banished to the junkyard of similar incidents banned to the back of my mind, and hopefully forgotten forever. To say it was hugely embarrassing when Alex introduced him as the director just wouldn't cover it. I visibly cringed and shrunk myself into the smallest possible size I could.

  His greeting of, 'I just know that you are going to love, it here.' Accompanied by a wink and laugher just compounded my mortification. I don’t know why this keeps happening to me.

  'Excuse me dear, is anyone working today?' I turn to the lady who must be about one hundred and ninety years if she is a day. She is only three foot and living proof that age does shrink you.

  'Of course madam.' I smile sweetly whilst shoving the tray of drinks at Kate and point to the door under Nigel's watchful gaze.

  The Pensioners are without a doubt the grumpiest, most critical group of people that come here in search of tea, and occasionally coffee if they feel daring.

  They feel the need to explain everything to me as if I am a five year old and call me dear repeatedly. When they decide my service isn't up to scratch, as it rarely is, they tut and huff, looking around affronted trying to catch an innocent bystanders’ eye, so they can make someone else see just how incompetent I am.

  'I'll take two CREAM cakes dear.' The miniature old lady in front of me shouts the specific word I need to know. I can't work out if she is doing it to make it clear, or maybe her hearing aid needs changing. They all do it though. This woman is not a one off.

  'No. Not those ones dear. The FRESH CREAM cakes on THIS SHELF dear. Hmpf.' She points her knobbly old finger further down the cabinet. I take a deep breath.

  'I'm afraid these ones aren't made with fresh cream. These cakes have fresh cream.' I tell her and point to the cakes I originally went for.

  'Really?' She says, literally hanging sarcasm all over it. She then sighs and looks about her to see if she can get anyone else's opinion on this and prove me wrong.

  'Would you like these fresh cream cakes or the ones you picked out?' Big bright smile. I love my job. I really love my job. Okay, I hate it but then who doesn't? I seem destined to always hate my job.

  'I want FRESH CREAM CAKES, dear.' She shouts again trying to get her point across. I throw my arms in the air before I can stop myself. Why she keeps pointing to the cakes not made with fresh cream, I don't know.

  'Lovely.' I smile at her, box the cakes up she asked for and hand them over. There is no point arguing with her, she will just go home and complain that cream doesn't taste as good as it did in the good old days.

  'Nicely handled.' Nigel whispers in my ear as he brushes himself past me. I feel myself turning the colour of the cherry on the cake I have just sold.

  'Are you okay dear? You look awfully peaky.' The lady asks taking her box of not fresh cakes. I stifle a nervous laugh and nod at her, before Jamie comes into view at the end of the queue.

  She frowns and leaves me to it. The queue diminishes pretty quickly. Before I know it he is waiting to be served.

  'Hello Mr Writer.' I greet him and feel Nigel's presence behind watching me again.

  'Hello my pretty little waitress. The staff are friendly here.' He calls out the last to Nigel and wiggles his eyebrows at him.

  'Alright mate.' Nigel waves back at him.

  'Stop annoying me. What do you want?' I ask whipping him with my towel.

  'Well a hot chocolate and your number wouldn't go amiss.' He grins and leans in to wink at me.

  'My number?’ I didn't have him down as the assertive type.

  'I was going to ask the other night, but I chickened out.' I notice his eyes crinkle up when he smiles, it softens his face. I still think I prefer him with glasses though. 'Lucy.' He clicks his fingers to get my attention.

  'Oh sorry, I.' I start to answer then a traumatic sight nearly has me keeling over. One of The Pensioners has bent over to pick up her bag and is now displaying what appears to be an industrial sized sanitary towel which is half hanging down her leg. The sight makes me want to die young.

  'Lucy?' He tries again. Still trying to decide if I should say anything or not, I can't answer.

  'Hey anyone home?' He asks. Dragging my attention back to him I smile and try to focus on what he wanted.

  'Sorry, really, I am sorry. What did you say again?' I ask him. Thankfully, the lady’s husband has clocked it and now is highly embarrassed. I watch him reassuring her, kissing her cheek and helping her to the toilets. At least she has someone who cares.

  I realise he has been trying to talk to me again and turned to watch the scene that has clearly distracted me.

  'Did you want me to write it down?' The cheeky sod asks me. Bloody write it down. I'm not incompetent.

  'No, but you can write my number down if you want?' I say. See, Kevin isn't the only one who can find somebody else. He scribbles it down on the back of a beat-up notepad looking very pleased with himself.

  'What are you doing Saturday night?' He asks.

  'Not a lot, why?'

  'Seeing as you have been good enough to give me your number, I thought I would take you out for dinner or something. If that is okay with you?'

  'Right. Of course. That sounds, great.' I feel cornered and not sure if I actually want to go on a full-blown date yet.

  Before I can get to deeply concerned Nigel calls out, 'Lucy, quick. I need help in the kitchen.' I turn around to see what the fuss is, and watch astounded to see a tidal wave of soapy water flooding out of the kitchen.

  'Duty calls. Ring me later.' I say to Jamie before running in the direction of a helpless Nigel. Bloody men can't do anything on their own.

  'What the hell?' I ask standing in the middle of the chaos. Nigel is steadily trying to sweep the water into a dustpan and into the sink, while Mike who keeps his head down is trying to mop it up. I can see the colour of his ears and it isn't hard to guess who caused the problem.

  'Mike over here thought it would be a fantastic idea to add half a bottle of fucking washing up liquid into the frigging dishwasher, even though there is a massive fuck off sign saying not to.' Nigel helpfully informs me with a shrug of his shoulders and a shake of his head.

  I turn to look back into the coffee shop to see if Jamie had left.

  'Hey. Sorry to interrupt your love life but we could use a pissing hand here.' Nigel practically shouts at me. I throw my hands up at him and start grabbing towels.

  'Try turning it off at the plug, at least then it will stop anymore coming out otherwise we'll be here all day.' I order Nigel.

  'My shoes.' Is all he says looking horrified and then pointedly looking at mine. It would seem mine are more expendable than his.

  'Oh, move out of the sodding way.' I shove past him. Bloody patheti
c men.

  I wade over to the rabid looking machine. If it were a dog, I would put it down. Satisfied that the water has started to drain away, irritation seeps in when I notice I would be drier if I had jumped fully clothed into a bubble bath. I growl through my teeth and look up at the ceiling.

  'The hand dryer is broken.' Miranda helpfully tells me, back from lunch to witness the end of the catastrophe.

  'Fabulous. Of course it is.' I say without moving my mouth.

  'Look it's almost closing time, so why not go home, get ready and come to mine for a party to celebrate you starting here.' Nigel consoles me. I have to say it works and my mood instantly lifts.

  'Going home early, and a party. Maybe I should sabotage the coffee shop every day.' I tell him with a huge grin already halfway out of the door.

  ***

  It's only half past eight and I already have tunnel vision and numb teeth. Perhaps agreeing to a party on a Thursday wasn't the smartest of moves when I need to get up in the morning, but how could I turn down a party in my honour?

  Every time I turn around Nigel is there with a bottle handy to top up my wine. I'm sitting on his kitchen counter talking to Mike who still has that vague look on his face. I don't think the alcohol is helping him to become anymore sociable.

  As soon as Mike vanishes from the room, Nigel slides over to me and is so close that I can almost taste his Gucci aftershave.

  'Do you want some more wine?' He asks. Instead of answering I stare down at his hand that is now rubbing my thigh. Miranda chooses that perfect moment to walk in.

  'Hey guys.' She shouts and dives in between us. I'm not sure if I am pleased for the rescue or annoyed because I wanted him to continue. Nothing is making too much sense to me anymore.

  'I need a wee wee.' I announce and catapult myself off the side with very little grace, and nearly crash into the cupboards opposite.